Page 27 of Home of the Brave

“Yes, but she’s not my cameraman. You are.”

I stared between the two of them, watching as Miles seemed to come to the same conclusion that he did need a punch to that face.

“So, Cambrie is coming to work with me?” I clarified.

Miles nodded, but Joe began to speak. “Yes, and we should really get going. Practice is starting soon.”

“Oh no, you have until this afternoon.” Women had the ice for practice first today.

“No,” Joe tapped on his phone. “East starts at nine.”

“Right, the women’s East. Men are after lunch.”

“And I’m here to cover the rise in popularity of the women's teams.”

Miles dropped his eyes to the floor as I felt all my blood pool that way. “What?”

“Again, Vicky, I hope you’re better at interviews.”

“The women’s teams are my––”

“Were your responsibility.” He sighed. “We know this is a money grab to capitalize on their short stint in the public eye. No one is going to care about them in a month, but for right now, they are the headline makers and the big bosses want the best coverage.” He winked again. “So Miles and I will take it off your plate, so you can focus on the men’s teams, since anyone can cover them. The higher-ups are loving the silly content, so keep that up.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Victoria,” Miles sounded nearly as distraught as I felt. “My boss sent the explanation last night.”

“Why didn’t Chris tell me? Why wasn’t I on that email?”

Joe shrugged like he couldn’t care less. “Now you know, so send me your notes. Mike and I have to get going.”

“It’s Miles,” I snapped, but Joe was already walking away.

“I’m sorry,” Miles whispered while he gave me a side hug, his camera bag bumping between us before he hurried to follow Joe to the waiting sedan.

I stared as they pulled away. This wasn’t happening. How could this be happening?

They sent one of the most famous names we have to cover the women’s teams? What bizarre alternative universe did I wake up in?

Sure, the exclusive contract would give them the exposure and publicity the women deserved, but why kick me off covering them? Chris knew how much this meant to me. My personal connections to the players.

Why send in some random football dude when I’m right here?

Now I had to cover only the men? Since anyone can cover them.

This was terrible.

I was in a nightmare.

I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them. Nope, still in the lobby gathering more attention the longer I stood unmoving.

“Victoria?” a woman called, and I glanced toward the doors to see several black cases slide against the marble floor.

I hurried over to find a petite, pink-haired punk rock woman pushing them. Relief washed over me. Cambrie and I had worked together on assignments before, though rarely, and out of the dozens of people they could have sent, she was someone I was excited to work with again.

“You okay?” I pulled the camera equipment to the side and stood to take in her ragged appearance. Her usually straight, sharp bob was a wavy mess, and the purple bags under her eyes almost looked like bruises.

“Oh, thank heaven that was you. I’ve been looking for a luggage cart, but––”