“You’re right. That wasn’t cool. I would never bring her into this and definitely don’t want to create any animosity. I love your daughter, Coach.”
“You love her?”
“I do.” A smile breaks out at the mention of my feelings for Ivory, despite my best efforts to school my expression. Seemingly appeased for the time being, Coach lowers back into his chair and crosses his arms.
“Look, Fields. I respect you. You’re a good man. My bug hasbeen through a lot. She tries to be strong but a lot of people in her life have failed her. I can’t say that I’m okay with this. Time will tell in how you treat her and what she tells me. But for now, I’ll let it go so long as this isn’t a distraction for you.”
“I would never do anything to hurt her. She’s not a distraction. She’s my peace.”
He gives me a curt nod, switching back to business. “I’m going to assume that you are not in playing shape.” I open my mouth to respond but he cuts me off. “That was not a question. You took three months off from training and haven’t been in the cages. You’re not at a complete disadvantage because players haven’t been allowed in during the association and league negotiations. That changes this week. Small groups of players at a time will be allowed to alternate use of the facilities. I expect you to be here every single day busting your ass.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You should also know that the office called up Chandler. He plays second too.” Coach may as well have kicked me in the balls and then punched me in the stomach. This has come out of left field. In March, there was no direct competition. Now, I’m fucked.
I clear my throat fighting to remain professional. “Was there a reason for the move?”
“The official line is that we need more depth due to the state of play.” So, basically the team was hedging their bets and vetting a cheaper player in a less risky season. This year is a throw away year for all intents and purposes now.
“Understood.”
“Prove to me you still belong here, Preston.” Resting his forearms on the desk, he leans forward spearing me with an intense look. I nod. “Dismissed.”
I leave Coach’s office and head for my truck. It doesn’t matter what my contract says. It doesn’t matter what my contributions to the team have been in all my years here. One mistakecould cost me everything. But Ivory will never be a mistake. If I hadn’t gone on that trip, I wouldn’t have met her.
She is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’ll get focused and prove my worth. But I won’t apologize for the decisions I made to get here. Hot water or not, they brought me Ivory.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Ivory
June 25
“You’re under contract, Ms. Crenshaw.” Brad Adams, the sleazy studio executive glares back at me through the computer screen. The past two weeks have been exhausting dealing with the press and the pushback from the studio on letting me out of my contract. I’m over it and ready to be free.
“A contract that you have already breached, Brad,” my attorney argues from the bottom square of the gallery view on my screen.
Brad doesn’t care about the restrictions and is in his cushy corner office. The studio’s lawyer sits beside him as they murmur back and forth. Too bad he actually knows how to work the mute button. I would love to be a fly on the wall in that office.
A text pops up on my phone drawing my attention.
PRESTON:
Good luck, Hollywood. I’m so proud of you. Call me after. X
Despite the long distance, Preston continues to show me I am a priority. When I told him I wanted to leave the studio, hewas so encouraging. Anyone else would have probably told me that I was being irrational and throwing away my career. But not Preston.
It makes me feel bad that I haven’t fully clued him into my plans yet. I’m working to nail down more specifics before I do. He needs to focus on the game right now, and not worry about me and the choices I am making. He hasn’t shown me anything but support from the start so my fear may be unfounded. It’s hard to let go of some habits though.
Tuning back into the conversation playing out on the screen in front of me, Brad bristles at whatever my attorney said.
“Ivory, sweetheart, we can work this out. If you leave now, it’s career suicide. You’ll never be able to shift into directing without us.” Brad’s condescending tone grates on my nerves. Pre-Belize Ivory would have believed his lies. Pre-Belize Ivory would have let his demeaning treatment pass without comment. But I’m not that person anymore.
“First of all, do not call me sweetheart. I am no such thing. It is not only unprofessional but condescending. Especially in this setting. Second, as if my reasonings weren’t valid enough before, that statement alone tells me that you do not respect me. Nor will you give me a fair and equal chance if I stay with your studio.” I’ve found my voice. I refuse to be the quiet little show pony that stays in her cage.
“You cannot sit there and blame the studio for not getting a pilot season because of the pandemic,” Brad scoffs.
“The project you promised me was canceled. Not postponed. Not paused. Not pushed aside to later.Canceled.You have zero intention of putting it back on the calendar. You have no plan for moving it forward at all. Therefore, you leave me no choice. I want out.” I’m fuming.
