Jenna was the one who needed this job.
Jenna was the one who had shown she was desperate for it.
Jenna was the one who bent over backward, taking task after task and spending endless hours working overtime to prove it.
All John had to do was dangle that carrot like Country had so aptly observed. How stupid she was to think that he would have let her catch it. And now here she was in the exact same situation she had been five years ago. At least this time it wasn't the man she was sleeping with, though a twenty-seven-year-old broadcaster from Moosejaw wasn't much better.
She stood and stomped down the stairs, then grabbed a pillow from the couch and screamed into it. When she’d used all her breath, she clutched the pillow to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw until her teeth complained.
Jenna drew a deep breath then relaxed into the couch cushions. What was she going to do? She couldn’t control John being a nepotistic asshole, and lashing out wasn’t going to make her situation better.
She wanted to find her phone wherever she’d left it and dial John’s number until he picked up then straight up quit. But then what? Where would she go from there if she couldn’t use GCBN as a reference?
All her practice analyzing market data and hockey reels kicked in like third gear on a mountain bike, allowing her to slow down and gain more traction. She couldn’t quit. Not yet. But she could keep this story away from John and HEC. Then, she could continue in her position and start putting out feelers for other opportunities. Find a way to get a statement documented from John and Archer showing that she’d been the one to bring Country onto the broadcast. Use that to show she was innovative and motivated to improve ratings. If she got her ducks in a row before February, all the better. Then she could quit when it struck hardest.
Having a plan didn't make Jenna's hands tremble less as she walked back upstairs and pulled her cell phone from the desk. It took her twice as long as normal to tap out a text to Country.
Thank you for passing along the information. I'm not going to give the story to GCBN. I'd recommend you put it out on your TikTok channel so the other networks hear about it there first
She clicked off the screen and retreated to her bedroom. Maybe that wasn't the best suggestion. If Owen watched Country's content as religiously as he pretended, he'd see it soon enough that they might still be able to get good mileage out of social media amplification. She simply didn't care. Jenna flopped down on the bed, mentally exhausted from the past fifteen minutes.
As all her motivation drained like sand through a sieve, Jenna caught a glimpse of how blissful it could feel to give up. To not care. To be satisfied with life exactly as it was.
It was like she'd been trying to claw her way up the side of a mountain through straight scrabble for the past thirteen years. What would happen if she just stopped? If she lay back and didn't fight the slide down to the meadow where she'd started.
Maybe it wasn't worth it. Maybe none of it was worth it.
It felt as if she was untying rough rope binding her wrists and pulling her arms taut. For a minute, she let the ends fly free, and the sensation of floating through space was intoxicating.
But that wasn’t who she was. Jenna gave herself five minutes to rest, then dragged herself off the bed and sat down in front of her computer. She needed to find a new mountain, and that search started now.
_____
For almost two weeks, Country felt as if he'd been caught in the middle of a class four rapid, dragging him under and only letting him up for a gulp of air before burying him again. He put out fires at the ranch during the day, cut it up on the ice at practice, then after the game the past Monday, he’d taken on the role of hype man for Jack and his miraculous ascension to the Flames for their game against the Canucks. All while watching Jenna’s name flickering across his mind like ticker tape.
The fact that Jack had the best game of his life for his NHL debut was a helpful distraction. All of the Snowballs bought seats in the Saddledome as close to the glass as they could get. Even if Jack had sat on the bench, they would've enjoyed one of the rowdiest, most joy-filled games Country had ever attended. They were packed into the dome like sardines, and the energy was electric.
He and Polk had waited to post the news until Monday morning after the team's tickets were secured, but it managed to exceed their highest video's views by a million plays. Everyone loved an underdog story. Turned out they loved it even more when they found out about it from him and his brother. If he had to guess, Jack's eight minutes of playing time probably correlated to the number of petitions from fans on the Flame's Facebook page. NHL organizations wanted to play good hockey, but they were hyper-aware that satisfying fans was an integral part of reaching that goal.
His greatest hope for Jack was that he'd feel and look solid on the ice. That he'd be able to glide off the ice with his head held high. He'd never practiced with the team—hadn't ever played with those guys and felt the pulse of their play. Never in any of his wildest dreams could he have imagined what Jack would pull out.
"How do you keep up with these comments?" Glen Kessler looked from his phone screen to Country standing next to him inside the door of the studio at GCBN.
"I don't. That's mostly my brother."
Glen shook his head. "I can't wait to talk about this game tonight. That shot by Harrison—I think I've watched the replay over a hundred times."
"I think all of Canada has watched it a hundred times." Country grinned as the play rolled in his head. Jack was at a crucial point near the blue line with Obelensky rushing parallel. It was the safe, logical play, to pass off the puck, even if he had the better position. But Jack deked, pumped his legs straight at the goal and launched into a slapping spin-o-rama, gluing the puck to his stick. He fired a backhander, and every fan in the stadium choked on either a hot dog or their own spit as it shot to the back of the net.
Jack had scored on arguably the best goalie in the NHL as a hardship-claimed player who'd been dumped from his AHL team months earlier. Just thinking about it made Country's adrenaline spike to unhealthy levels.
He glanced over, noticing the look of consternation on Glen's face. "You alright, bud?"
Glen winced. "Yeah, I think dinner isn't sitting well. I'm sure it will pass in a second."
Country nodded then rolled out his neck. The number of people he'd heard about being sick in January was starting to mess with his head. He was almost convinced his stomach didn't feel normal.
Glen stepped to the side as the door opened and Jenna walked in. Her eyes immediately lifted to Country's. "Hey."
