“Thank you for coming in.” Davidson’s tone was professional but not cold. “We’ve completed our review of the situation. Several factors have emerged that I want to discuss with you.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Morris leaned forward, leather legal pad portfolio in hand. “Wesley, during our review of the non-fraternization policy and the circumstances of your suspension, we identified several concerns. The policy itself is overly broad and potentially legally questionable. It prohibits all romantic relationships between different organizational levels without distinguishing between direct reporting relationships and separate departments.”
I blinked, considering what he’d said. That sounded like… good news? Or at least not immediate termination.
“Most organizations today,” Anthony continued, “don’t have blanket bans on workplace relationships. They have disclosure and conflict-of-interest protocols. Our policy needed revision regardless of your situation.”
Sarah picked up the thread. “Additionally, we’ve been monitoring the public response to Captain Lapierre’s coming out and your statement. The fan reaction has been overwhelmingly positive. We’ve received inquiries from several progressive sponsors interested in partnering with the organization. Your professional value to this team is significant. Your expertise in crisis management and narrative framing was evident in how you handled your own statement.”
I struggled to keep up. They were complimenting my PR work? While I was suspended for a policy violation?
Davidson steepled his hands on his desk, his expression serious, but not hostile. “Wesley, I made a hasty decision last Friday when I suspended you. I reacted to the policy violation without fully considering the context or the appropriate response.”
He paused, and I held my breath.
“We’re lifting your suspension effective immediately.”
The words didn’t compute at first. I stared at Owen, certain I’d misheard.
“Now, you did violate the policy in effect at the time. You’ll receive a formal reprimand that will be placed in your personnel file, and a five thousand dollar fine. Captain Lapierre will receive the same—formal reprimand and fine. But your employment continues.”
“I’m… I’m getting my job back?” The question came out barely above a whisper.
“You never should have lost it.” Regret passed across Davidson’s face. “I overreacted to a situation that required more nuanced handling. You violated a policy, yes. But the policy itself was flawed, and my response was disproportionate to the circumstances.”
Sarah added, “The non-fraternization policy is being rescinded and replaced with a disclosure and conflict-of-interest protocol. You and Captain Lapierre will need to file disclosure paperwork acknowledging your relationship and confirming there’s no direct reporting relationship or conflict of interest.”
Anthony nodded. “The new protocol requires disclosure within thirty days of a relationship beginning, annual updates, and immediate notification if circumstances change. It’s designed to address actual conflicts of interest rather than prohibiting all relationships.”
I sat in stunned silence, my mind in a whirl. Reinstated. Fined but not fired. Policy rescinded. Griffin and I could be together openly—or at least with organizational knowledge and approval.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said unsteadily. “Thank you. I—thank you.”
“You’re an excellent PR manager, Wesley.” Davidson’s tone was genuine. “Your work with Griffin has been exemplary. Your handling of the home-opener media coverage was professional and effective. And frankly, your personal statement demonstrated exactly why we hired you. You understand messaging better than anyone else we could find.”
The compliment made my throat tight with unexpected emotion. I’d spent four days thinking I’d lost everything, and instead I was being welcomed back with praise. The fine—five thousand dollars—made my stomach twist. I had savings, but that was a significant amount. Still, I was thankful it wasn’t worse.
Davidson stood, signaling the meeting’s end. “Welcome back, Wesley. I look forward to continuing to work with you.”
I stood on shaky legs and shook hands with all three of them, wondering if this was real. I wasn’t fired. I had my jobback. The policy that had made our relationship forbidden was gone.
Sarah handed me paperwork—the formal reprimand to sign, documentation of the fine, and the new disclosure protocol forms. “You and Captain Lapierre should file the disclosure paperwork together. It requires both signatures.”
“We will. Thank you.”
“And I’ll notify security to return your badge,” she said. “You can pick it up on the way out.”
“Thank you,” I said, the words inadequate for the relief flooding through me.
I left Owen’s office in a daze and walked through the facility toward the PR suite where my office waited. It looked exactly as I’d left it Friday afternoon—laptop still on my desk, tablet and corporate phone still by my keyboard, the organized chaos of my workspace unchanged. Like the past four days had been a strange dream rather than reality.
Natalie appeared in my doorway, her expression breaking into a huge smile. “Wesley! You’re back!” She crossed the room and hugged me, professional boundaries temporarily abandoned. “I’m so glad. I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” The waver in my voice surprised me. This job, this team, this space—it mattered more than I’d realized. “Thank you for holding down the fort.”
“Are you kidding? After watching you handle your personal crisis with that incredible social media post? You just gave a masterclass in PR strategy. We should all be thanking you.”
