“I’ll be direct,” Natalie said, her voice cold enough to frost the glass. “Why am I hearing that one of my interns is running a shadow campaign to rehabilitate Jeff Cross’s reputation?”
My knees almost buckled. “What? No. That’s not?—”
Natalie cut me off with a raised hand. “The board flagged it this morning, and Mr. Evaldson is currently doing damage control. Engagement numbers spiked around Jeff. A suspicious concentration. Sponsors are asking why one untested rookie is suddenly the face of the franchise.”
Was this why Gunnar hadn’t told anyone about us? He must have known about these posts. Maybe he thought I’d done it to… I couldn’t think of why. Spite him? No, he knew me better than that. I needed to talk to him. I reached for my phone, but at Natalie’s sharp grunt, I pulled my hand back. “That’s not?—”
“Then explain this.” Natalie slid a packet of printouts across the table. Hashtags. Clips. Graphics. My admin login had been used to credit every single one during the past week, while my laptop sat on my desk here and I was in Sweden.
My breath stuttered. I flipped through them with trembling fingers. The timestamps matched nights I’d been at my mother’s bedside, then in Sweden with Gunnar. “Let me just contact Gunnar,” I said.
Natalie made an impatient noise, seeming surprised when I pulled out my cell phone. When Gunnar didn’t answer, I sent him a message.
Natalie had said he was with the board. He’d get back to me, soon, and all of this would get cleared up. I sucked in a breath, calming myself so I could answer Natalie rationally.
“Yes, I gave Zaila Jeff’s account, but it appears she’s running a personal PR campaign for him on Wildcatters channels,” Jay said with a smile. “That would be…a serious conflict of interest, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s not true!” my voice cracked. “I never made these. Someone’s using my login. I haven’t even been in the office for the past week.”
That someone was obviously Jay. He’d said as much when Tim asked him a minute ago, hadn’t he? God, how could I have considered him my friend? Given him the benefit of the doubt so many times?
Natalie’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying your credentials were compromised?”
“Yes. I was out of the country with Gunnar, on bereavement leave.” I raised my gaze. “We left the day after my mother’s funeral.” Jay’s expression was unreadable, but something hard flickered in his eyes. “I didn’t have my computer because it all happened so suddenly.”
“From where I’m standing? The evidence still points to you,” Natalie said. “And evidently you have a close relationship with the team owner, so this is a very, very bad look, Ms. Monroe.” She leaned closer. “Gunnar’s going to be censured over this, maybe fined. You will be, too. It will not be pretty, which means my entire team will work ‘round the clock to fix your mistake.”
Natalie turned to Jay. “And you—you were supposed to supervise this young woman, which obviously you didn’t do. Not only that, but Mr. Evaldson came to me last week and reported that you were dumping all of your work on Ms. Monroe’s schedule.”
Jay’s mouth dropped open. “That’s not true! I do my work.”
“Apparently, you don’t. Because if you did, I wouldn’t be in here explaining how bad this is for all of us, now would I?”
My chest heaved. Don’t cry. Don’t let them see you break. “Ms. Patel,” I said, forcing each word past my raw throat. “I would never compromise the team. Never. My work, my loyalty is to the Wildcatters. To Gun—er, Mr. Evaldson.”
Jay’s eyes flared. “The integrity of this organization is not negotiable,” he said. “You’re right, Natalie. I’ll suspend Zaila’s admin access while IT reviews the logs. Until then, you’re relieved of posting duties, Ms. Monroe. In fact, go home.”
The floor tilted under me. Posting was my job. Without it, I was nothing here.
Gunnar, please respond. I need you…
My phone remained silent.
“You’re relieved as well, Mr. Welks,” Natalie said. “I’ll be posting until we can sort this situation out.”
“Me? But?—”
“But nothing. As Ms. Monroe stated, she was out of town. All these posts came from her laptop, which was in this building.” Ms. Patel pointed to the IP address. “If she wasn’t here, which is easy enough to confirm, then you’d better believe I’ll be looking for the real culprit, and I will not be shy about letting the world know exactly what kind of creep would turn their jealousy against someone who’s grieving.” With that, Natalie turned on her high heels and disappeared.
I raised my gaze from the table to Jay. “I thought we were friends,” I said as I pushed past the emotion choking me.
Jay shrugged as he looked away. “Lydia was right about you. And you were dead wrong about me.”
Back at my desk, I collected the last of my belongings, my skin burning as the security guard stood behind me, watching my every move as if I’d actually do something nefarious. Still, a stubborn kernel kept expecting Gunnar to step in, to clear this up—to explain that we were together and I’d never betray him or the organization this way. But what if he didn’t know that? I knew my emotions were spiraling, but I couldn’t seem to bring them down.
Tim stepped into my office—my former office—his face white. “Jay took this too far. I’ll get it sorted. Don’t worry.”
I sniffled and offered him a smile. “I haven’t felt right since my mother died, Tim. Maybe this is fate’s way of telling me I’m not meant to be here.” I nodded to the security guard and headed toward the door.
