“So, are you girls coming to Atlanta?” Preston asks, changing the subject.
“We’ll be there,” Taylor answers him, then pointedly looks at me. “Right, Gabby?”
“Yes, I said I would go this time.” I roll my eyes.
“It’s not our fault you’ve become a workaholic.” Ivory calls me out from across the island where she’s preparing the toppings.
“I’m not a workaholic!” I protest, thoughI am a workaholic.
“Yes, you are,” they all say in unison.
“Fuck you guys.” I pick up my drink and down in it one gulp. The vodka hits my bloodstream, making me feel light and floaty.
Miller wraps me in a hug from behind. “Ah, it’s okay Gabby-pants. We love you anyway.”
“Don’t you need to go make sure the burgers aren’t burning or something?” I wiggle out of his embrace.
“Come on, man.” Preston opens the door. Miller follows him out as Taylor hands me a fresh drink.
“How are things going?” she asks. Ivory looks up from where she’s chopping a tomato to let me know she wants to know as well.
“Why are you here again? You were just in town.” I deflect, posing the question to Taylor.
“Nope. Not about me right now. It’s your turn. You’ve been avoiding letting us in.” She lowers her voice when Ivory turns around and asks, “Does this have anything to do with that hot new rookie?”
Shit. I need to come clean about my troubles at work. Ivory still doesn’t know about Chase, and I definitely don’t want totalk about my feelings about him stumbling back into my life a few weeks ago. So far, he’s respected my request to keep it professional. It helps that I’ve done everything I can to avoid any interactions with him.
Sighing, I lean back on the barstool and prop my knee against the island. I wish we were having this conversation on the patio. It’s much more comfortable, and Ivory’s backyard is an oasis.
“I’m just so tired of playing the game, ya know?” I lament to my two best friends, knowing they truly get it.
“I do know,” Taylor agrees. She joined a well-known publicity firm right after graduation and has been busting her ass ever since. Today, she’s her own boss and one of the top agents and publicists in sports. I’m still in awe of her every day. “There are many games we play, though, so I need you to be more specific.”
There are several games women play by nature—the fitting in game, the self-doubt game, the imposter syndrome game, the dating game—but the career game is the one plaguing me most these days.
“The only female in a male-dominated industry game. It’s exhausting. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have a place in this league and thankful that the front office took a chance on me when the Troubadours were starting…” I trail off, not sure how to articulate my thoughts.
"But the other guys in the office are dicks,” Ivory supplies, causing me to chuckle.
“They are!”
“Who is the dick today?” Taylor asks, taking a sip of her margarita.
“Ricardo,” I huff. He’s not in the office much because he’s one of the team’s scouts, which requires him to be on the road ninety percent of the time. Thank god. “He refuses to call me Gabrielle. It’s either Gabriel, Gabe, or ‘that lawyer girl.’ It’s infuriating.”
Ivory rolls her eyes. “I can’t stand him. He’s such a douche.”
“From what I can tell, no one in the office really cares for him,” Taylor adds. She occasionally stops by the office when she’s in town and consults with our communications team. I haven’t figured out the dynamic yet, but she just says she has time and likes to mentor them.
“How does he still have a job then?” Ivory asks, looking between us.
“He’s really good at what he does, unfortunately. The Troubadours need top talent to keep competing, and he has brought that talent.”
“Still. His behavior is inexcusable. Have you said anything?” Ivory protests. She stood up to her toxic bosses at the studio when she terminated her contract with them and started Serentia Productions. It took her a long time to break the mold, but she’s a fierce advocate for women taking back their power now. It’s admirable. Something I wish I could do myself. This isn’t a situation where I can be like Ivory, though, so I shake my head sadly and take another sip of my drink.
“That would only make it worse. I’m not going to be a tattletale and prove him right.” Besides, Mark, my boss and the general counsel of the team, is almost as bad as he is when he bothers to show up. When he doesn’t, all his work gets pushed onto my schedule, which I honestly prefer if the alternative is dealing with his misogynistic attitude.
“How would you prove him right?” Taylor muses.
