I gulp, and say, “Sounds good, talk to you soon.”
When he leaves, AJ just lifts her eyebrow and waits for me to say something.
“What?”
“Why did I just get the distinct impression that you were looking for a way out of saying yes to a date with a cute, available guy? Are you... seeing someone?”
“No,” I say, and try to let out a light laugh like the idea is ridiculous, but it comes out sounding strangled.
AJ lifts one of her dark brows, no doubt scrutinizing my sincerity. “You sure?”
“Positive,” I say, but she looks suspicious as hell. Time to change the subject. “By the way, have you made a decision yet about Natalie?”
AJ sighs, her shoulders sinking as she does. “I’d really like to give her another chance, but ultimately it’s not up to me. She reports to Patrick. I’m only involved because a player was part of that situation.”
“I say this as a friend, not as someone who works for you. But that’s bullshit, and you know it. There’s no part of the Rebels organization that you’re not involved in. You hired Lauren and were instrumental in promoting her, even though she reports to Patrick. You’re the one who suggested bringing me on as well. Why is this different?”
AJ sweeps her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “It will be viewed as me giving her a second chance because she’s a woman.”
“Why can’t it be viewed as giving someone who’s young but extremely good at her job a second chance after making an immature mistake?”
“Itshouldbe viewed that way, but given my vocal enthusiasm for hiring more women in professional sports, it won’t be. It’ll be seen through the gender lens.”
“What if I talked to Patrick about it?” I ask. “I know you guys said I should stay out of it, but I’m the one who worked directly with her and can therefore best judge her potential.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to you approaching him about this, as long as Sarah from HR is part of the conversation. But you need to know, going into this, that Patrick is a huge stickler for the rules.”
“Great. I’ll ask them to show me where in her contract there’s specific mention of her not having a relationship with one of the players.”
AJ huffs out a laugh. We both know, from her own relationship with McCabe, that this language is not standard—though who knows, maybe it’s been added for new employees? “People have been fired for far less.”
“People are generally fired for not being good at their jobs. If that’s the case, get rid of Tatum instead.”
“Is she really that bad?” AJ asks.
“She just doesn’t have the mindset for social media. Like, she has no sense of what will hit with our audience, doesn’t follow any of the trends, and hasn’t developed the right tone in her replies to comments. She just... she’d probably be better suited for some other position in communications.”
AJ nods, and I know what she’s thinking but isn’t allowed to say: the Rebels can’t fire Tatum because she just took a medical leave and that would open them up to a discrimination lawsuit.
“All right,” AJ says after glancing at her phone. “Charlie just texted me to come down to the locker room. You coming down to get some video before they take the ice for warm ups?”
“Sure, let’s go.”
The Lamppost is crowded and noisy, and the only thing that seems to distinguish it from any other upscale bar in Dallas is that the owner is apparently a huge Boston sports fan. The walls are littered not only with Rebels memorabilia, but also with souvenirs celebrating Boston’s baseball, football, and basketball teams too.
I chuckle when Aidan stops on the stairs to the cordoned-off VIP section that’s been set aside for our team to take a picture of the huge framed poster of our esteemed quarterback, Liam Walker. I can already envision the trash-talk in the text message he’s typing out as he steps onto the landing of the second floor.
“First round’s on me!” Luke hollers as he hands a credit card over to the bartender.
Cheers go up around the room, drawing the attention of the crowd below—something that probably only AJ and I notice, since we’re bringing up the rear. “Pretty sure everyone elseshould be buying him drinks after that shutout tonight,” she says with a laugh.
“He can afford it,” I say with a chuckle, because with his billionaire trust fundandhis hockey contract, he’s never going to hurt for money. “Man, he’s been on fire this season. It’s so good to see.”
“It sure is,” she says, sounding relieved but not surprised.
“Is it still weird for you, coming out with the team like this?” I ask. During the playoffs last season, I met her at The Neon Cactus when the team had specifically invited her out to celebrate her nomination for the General Manager of the Year award. She’d mentioned then that she never goes out with the team, but this season, now that she and McCabe are together, it seems to be happening more.
“It’s getting... less weird,” she says, right as McCabe and Colt approach. McCabe’s got a cocktail in his hand for her, and a beer for himself. The way he comfortably wraps his arm around her lower back after handing her the drink, so at ease showing his affection for her in public, has a jolt of jealousy shooting up my spine. My eyes meet Aidan’s gaze across the room, wishing he could be pulling me in close like that. But not only is our relationshipnotlike that, it also needs to remain private.
