Page 35 of Bride Games
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H eart pounding with anticipation of the worst possible kind, Paige crossed the lobby toward Mr. Hales’ corner office. Reporters kept their heads down. The room was eerily quiet. She knew every eye was on her. She could feel their stares. It would have been nice to see Zach before this meeting. He must have had another late night at the hall of fame event. She shook her head.
Paige dodged employees like a pinball machine expert. After being told Mr. Hales was running an hour late, she was relieved she had more time but was desperate to get back to her office. Paige ducked inside, closed her office door, and turned on her computer. She attempted to look busy in a do-not-disturb way. The last thing she wanted was to be ambushed by nosy employees—or see their sympathetic faces. Not now. Not yet. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this first.
She jerked up when someone knocked on her door, only to see a massive bouquet of flowers masking the delivery person’s face. The enormous bouquet was filled with aqua roses. After the man put them on the edge of her desk, she noticed the envelope read: To Ballsy.
Paige wanted to burst into tears. Before reading the card, she knew the flowers were from Tyreek Hill, who had given her that spunky nickname, after she brazenly approached him on the field before game day for her first-ever sports interview. And it had worked. Their incredible interview and field workout had gone viral. Maybe he’s cheering me on. Maybe Tyreek’s on my side after our fun workout last year at the Dolphins stadium.
Paige took a deep breath before opening the tiny card, which simply read: WTF? She put her head in her hands and fought back tears. Shit. I had hoped the NFL players would be too busy practicing to be on social media. This is horrifying—not to mention embarrassing.
She barely had a chance to gather her thoughts when a second delivery person arrived with yet another bouquet. Paige knew she sounded ungrateful when she said, “Now what? I don’t want more flowers.” The delivery person looked confused as she plunked them beside the first bouquet.
Paige stared at the roses. Don’t tell me these are from another NFL player. Or a coach. She gritted her teeth as she slowly opened yet another tiny white card. Shockingly, the flowers were from Trent who said he was sorry about what happened to her, as well as to them personally. He added she didn’t deserve this dreadful attention and was great at her job.
Paige couldn’t stop the tears and bawled. This is the worst. The absolute worst. I want—need—to talk to Zach before my meeting with Mr. Hales. Where the hell is he?
Paige moved both bouquets to a side credenza so they were out of her direct view. When her phone rang, she answered it on the first ring, hoping it was Zach. As she pressed the phone to her ear, she recognized the voice of Mr. Hales’ assistant. “He’s ready to see you now.”
“Thanks.” The usually cheerful assistant hung up before hearing Paige’s response.
As Paige entered her boss’s office, she knew he knew. It was obvious. Bad news was etched all over his face. Mr. Hales motioned toward a striped chair across from his desk. “Have a seat, Paige.”
Before she had time to cross her legs, Mr. Hales said in a not-so-friendly tone, “Let me tell you a little story. As you know, I’m not exactly tech savvy. I don’t even own a computer. But”—he steepled his fingers—“my daughter recently brought me into the 21st century. One rainy weekend she taught me a few tips and helped me follow all my friends, associates, and colleagues. Mr. Hales locked eyes with Paige. “So, imagine my surprise when I saw my star employee trending—I think that’s the term—and not in a good way.”
Finding it difficult to breathe, Paige blinked back the tears pricking her eyes. She held her chin high in an attempt to be her usual sassy, respected, hard-charging professional. “I know, Mr. Hales. It looks really ba?—”
Her boss held both his hands in the air. “I’m not finished.” His tone softened, “Listen, I know we owe our number one ratings spot to you. I have faith you’ll overcome this somehow, some way, but bottom line, I’ve got to pull you off the air for a few weeks, maybe months, maybe the entire football season. Sorry, Paige, but we’ve got to get ahead of the negative publicity. If you’re not on camera, maybe it’ll go by the wayside sooner.”
Paige sucked in her breath and simply replied, “No. I don’t agree with that approach. Let me fight back. Let me tell my story.”
“No can do. I’m the boss and I have a company to run. Employees to pay. Board members to answer to, and advertisers who will not be happy about this at all. I’ve already fielded a dozen calls. If our advertisers pull the plug, that affects our bottom line, employee bonuses, the whole bit.” Frowning, he added, “I’ve also heard from some players and coaches. Some say they refuse to be interviewed by a rookie. A couple of avid NFL fans said you should be banned from covering the games, as did a crusty coach who needs to retire, but that’s between us.” Mr. Hales leaned back in his creaky leather recliner as he stared at Paige. The talent. Maybe the former talent.
Paige sat as still as a statue, hoping this was a nightmare. All she wanted was to cover a game with Zach. Be on the road right now, on the sideline interviewing the infamous, huge, talented players. She couldn’t speak, wondering where the hell her boss was going with his tirade.
Her boss continued, “I know this will sound harsh, but hear me out. This station is bigger than Paige Daniels. I know you’re a huge part of our success. We all owe you a debt of gratitude, but I can’t let the station slide into the abyss over this.” He shrugged. “Terrible metaphor, sinking ship and all, but I’m sure you get my gist.”
Paige found her voice, albeit tiny and shrill. “You don’t want me to cover any games? Be on camera at all?”
Mr. Hales nodded. “That’s right. For the time being. Zach can handle it.”
She sat up straighter. “Are you firing me?”
“No, Paige, I wouldn’t do that. You’ve been a stellar employee up to this point. You just need less air time until this blows over.” Mr. Hales smiled for the first time since their meeting began. “Actually, I have the perfect position for you. In fact, if this atrocious coverage has anything going for it, it’s that the timing is perfect.”
Paige’s eyebrows shot up. “What is it?”
“My wife and I are about to embark on our first cruise. A long cruise in the Mediterranean.” He eyed Paige. “I want you to fill in as station manager while I’m gone.”
Paige swallowed. “I’m not qualified for that.”
Mr. Hales shrugged. “According to the online chatter, you also weren’t qualified for sports. But you excelled.” He half laughed. “Well, until now.” He stood, indicating the meeting was over. “My assistant will be of great help to you. She’s typing up a priority list for you right now—accounting, legal, promotions, community relations, and overseeing human resources, that kind of thing. You’ll be fine, Paige. I have confidence in you.”
Paige wanted to vomit. Instead, she stood and shook her boss’s hand, plastering a fake smile on her face. She’d much prefer curling up in a ball or pounding her fists on the carpet and throwing a tantrum like a child. But that wasn’t her style, plus she needed a job and loved everyone at the station. She knew she had to wait until the stupid, hateful sports scandal blew over. “I’ll do my best, boss.” As she opened his office door, Paige turned back, still holding onto the doorknob to steady herself. “When do you leave for your cruise?”
“Tomorrow.” Mr. Hales grinned as he patted a pile of paperwork. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. I’ve hired new talent. Really excited about this. We got a good one. She’ll temporarily replace you as a sideline sports reporter until this chaos is tamped down.”
“ She? ” Paige swallowed past a lump in her throat.
“Marie Fallon. I’m sure you know her. She used to be with ESPN. This is a huge coup for our station. Huge. She’s incredible. Next to you, of course.”
As Paige attempted to control her anger—and breathing—she asked, “What about Zach?”
Mr. Hales walked toward the door, practically ushering her into the hallway. “Zach will travel with Marie, of course. Just like you did. I really have a lot to do before I leave for vacation. Good day, Paige.”
Oh, my God. I’m in hell.