Flying back homeand parting from Jon was miserable. Who would have thought that I’d get all attached and needy?
“Girl!” I’m practically thrown to the floor, barely catching myself. Jazz is hugging me from behind, her arms wrapped around my waist.
“What the–!?”
I try to spin around and peel her arms off my, but she’s not budging. She’s clinging to me like a baby koala.
“Shut up. I was worried sick about you when I found out what happened. A fucking stalker, Mar!? Why didn’t you say something?” She’s now changed tactics to giving me a not-so-gentle shove.
“I didn’t think it was a serious situation. I mean, you even said you get creepy fan mail all the time,” I argue.
She rolls her eyes at me like I’m the biggest idiot in the world. “Yea. Creepy dick pics. None of them are coming to my house or threatening me. You could have gotten seriously hurt.” Her darks eyes well with tears quickly and I crouch down and give her another big hug. “I was scared somethingdidhappen to you. You’re my only real friend out here. I can’t do this shit without you,” she sniffles against my shoulder.
It’s been so long since I had a close friend like Jazz. The last close friend I had was Becca, and that turned out horribly. “Just promise me,if our friendship fizzles out, you won’t kidnap my boyfriend and try to kill me in a seedy hotel room,” I joke.
“Is that what fucking happened?!”
Before I can give her the entire story, Dahlia finds us and leads me to the meeting room with the directors of the PEW. Dahlia sits next to me, and Ashleigh is on my other side.
“First of all, Margeaux, we need to apologize for not doing better to protect you,” Dave says. His thinning black hairline is dotted with sweat.
I stay quiet, giving him a chance to finish.
“The question is what are you guys going to do to change things so something like this doesn’t happen again?” Dahlia speaks up, clearly pissed off.
Mitch shifts in his chair, his bulky arms testing the limits of his polo. “Well, to be fair. Margeaux, you never told anyone about this situation…”
“Don’t you dare pull that shit here, Mitch!” Dahlia stands up, leaning over the table. “Who was she supposed to tell? What would people have said?It’s part of this life. That just means you’re on your way to becoming a star.Fuck that shit! I didn’t take this job to see this sport and organization stay the same. I’m here to help push it into the future. The women’s division has tripled in popularity over the last five years,” Dahlia begins, then glances over at Ashleigh who is already pulling up something on her laptop.
She spins it around, facing the screen to the directors. “More teenage and pre-adolescent females are tuning into the PEW each season. The sales and marketing department is already getting more requests for female athlete appearances, and events.”
I stay quiet, absolutely impressed by these two women. Maybe I should take a business class or two. Learn more about these types of things.
“Word is already getting out about the incident with Margeaux; I highly doubt she’s the only athlete– regardless of gender– who is receiving inappropriate mail from fans. This organization needs to stand behind its athletes. So, again, gentlemen, my question to you is, What. Are. You. Going. To. Do?”
Another ninety minutes of meeting and discussing the future of the PEW has me feeling even more secure and confident in my decision to compete in this sport. Mitch and Dave shared plans for improved athlete safety and welfare. Which will also include access to counselors and therapists, regardless of whether you’re a first-year rookie or a seasoned veteran.
Mentally exhausted, and ready for a nap, I stand up.
“Just one more thing, Margeaux,” Mitch says before I can leave. I keep my face neutral even though I’m so grumpy from all the travel and not having a chance to check my phone to see how Jon’s doing. “Did you drop in at a place called Frankie’s Gym while you were in Paramount?”
My entire body goes rigid. Fuck. Did somebody snap a photo of me making out with Jon in the men’s locker room? Am I now going to be charged with public indecency or something?
“Uh. Yea. About twice a day. There wasn’t much else for me to do while I was stuck there awaiting my sentencing,” I say with probably a little too much snark, but whatever.
Mitch doesn’t seem phased as he continues. “Well, Frankie, the owner, loved having you there. He said the energy you brought was great, and once people heard you were dropping in at his gym, he noticed an increase in attendance during those hours.”
“What are you getting at, Mitch?” Ashleigh asks. Her usually perky and bubbly tone faded away about twenty minutes ago. I can see her phone lighting up with unanswered e-mails and messages.Thiswoman needs a vacation.
“He offered a partnership,” Mitch says.
“A great opportunity to grow and expand PEW,” Dave adds. “He wants us to build a training facility in Paramount. He would be a part owner of the facility.”
My jaw drops. Is thisreallyhappening?
“When?” Dahlia asks.
“How?” I ask.
