“Kali, let’s be honest here. Between you and me, who has the charisma for dealing with the sponsors? You tell it like it is, and I respect you for it. But that’s not what the sponsors want to hear. They want sugar, and I’m damn sweet.”
I glanced between him and the tablet a few times. “And the money is because . . . ?”
“The sponsors aren’t going to listen to me unless I’m a team owner. This is so I have authority.”
I sat back in my chair, considering his offer. “So, you think you’re sweeter than me? Prove it.”
He grinned. “Watch this. Give me your phone.”
I hesitated for a minute before I handed it over to him. He started flicking through my contact list.
“Who’s the one giving you the most grief?”
“Lockhart at Digital Revolution.”
He tapped her name and pressed the phone to his ear.
“What are you doing—”
He raised a hand and gave me a face that simply said, I’ve got this. He tapped his foot as he waited. I heard the line click.
“Yes, Ms. Lockhart, please,” he said.
There was a pause.
“Ms. Lockhart? This is Derek Cooper. I’m the new co-owner of Team Defiance.” As he said it, he slid the money order back across the desk. “Ms. Lockhart, let’s talk for a minute. I’m not sure if I understand something right. I hear you’re considering taking legal action against us, and I’m concerned for you. Do you have any idea what that will do to your image?”
My mouth dropped open. He was getting them at their own game. Derek paused as he listened to her speak.
“Listen, people love athletes. They hate big business. I don’t want you to come out of this deal looking like corporate overlords. Do you?”
Another pause.
“I didn’t think so. Look, we’re proud to promote your products. We believe in them. So, let’s work together on this. Tell me what we can do to make you happy.”
He winked at me.
Damn, he was sweet.
“Now, that sounds completely reasonable to me . . .”
With the cell pressed to his ear, he pushed himself out of the chair and sauntered out of my office and down the hall.
My phone went with him.
Not a bad trade for one million. Derek Cooper, you just bought yourself a team.
Maybe officially delegating more of my team-owner responsibilities to the rest of the team wasn’t a bad idea, especially if their talents naturally suited the task. With Derek handling the sponsors, I wondered if he’d mind my being captain again. That’s what everyone wanted to see. Scratch that. That’s what I wanted and what felt best for the team.
I called Hannah into my office next. I’d already involved her in the team’s image. Might as well take it all the way.
“We need to talk about our image,” I told her.
She slowly lowered herself in the chair. “Am I doing a bad job?”
“No, no. You’re doing an amazing job. So, I’m wondering if you want to be our full-time Image Coordinator. On top of coordinating our look, you’ll need to monitor our presence in the media. Stay up-to-date on the latest gossip and figure out the best ways to counter it if it’s even worth the attention. I’m not going to try to control what the media thinks, but we still need to be aware of what they’re saying.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“I can’t be watching the gossip channels anymore. It’s too much of a distraction. But it’s still something that needs to be managed, and I think it’s a role you’re well suited for. I’ll need to sit down with Derek and go over our finances. But you’ll have a budget somewhere in the high six figures, maybe seven. You’ll have to manage that, too.”
Hannah had no reaction, at first. Eventually, she sat back in the chair, her face a blank slate. Was she insulted?
“Thank you,” she said solemnly.
That didn’t sound like a genuine thank-you.
“Hannah, if you don’t feel—”
“No one ever takes me seriously,” she said, and I immediately shut my mouth. “They think I’m all hair and shoes, all about the superficial. That I’m just here for show.”
“I don’t think that—”
“A few times, I thought about changing to suit everyone else. Especially when those rumors about me started in the tabloids. But, really, I love who I am. So, I thought, fuck changing. If people don’t even try to see what’s below the surface, why should I do the work for them?”
Is that how she thought I viewed her? Of course she did. I’d just offered her a job that revolved around clothes and celebrity gossip. Oh God, what had I done?
“Listen, I’m sorry—”
“You’re sorry? No one’s ever thought of me as capable of something more. They treat me like I’m just another pretty face. But now you’re offering me a job that actually combines everything I love and tests my strengths? Kali Ling, I could kiss you.”
I blinked.
Uh, what?
Hannah brimmed with so much excitement, she could barely sit in the chair.
“Coming up with the newest, hottest looks before the other teams do,” she gushed. “Outmaneuvering the press at their own game. Managing a seven-figure budget.” Her voice got higher and more excited with every sentence. “I think I could be good at this. Really good.”
I smiled. Not because I was happy but because of how happy this was making her.
“You will be. Own it.”
“I better get started, then. Thanks, boss.” She bounded out of the chair and headed for the door.
“You know what’s nicest about exciting news, like job promotions?” I asked. She turned back to me and shrugged. “Sharing it with someone.”
She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms.
“I’m not the one who doesn’t share.”
“You sure?”
She looked down at the floor and scuffed her foot against it.
“Look,” I began, “I know what it’s like dealing with someone who doesn’t want to open up. Trust me. But if you take the first step, maybe it’ll make things easier for her.”
She considered that for a few minutes.
“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “But if she doesn’t reciprocate . . .”
“Walk away. You’ve been more than fair.”
Hannah nodded and headed for the door again. When she reached the doorway, I called out to her.
“One piece of advice.”
She turned back to me again. “I’m starting to think you don’t want me to leave.”
“Be patient. If she doesn’t open up, don’t get mad. That’ll just push her further into her shell. Just accept it and leave.”
“I will.” She lingered in the doorway for a minute. “And Kali?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For everything.”
I smiled at her and kept smiling long after she left. All along, I’d been trying to do things right, ever since I took over the team. Now that I’d finally stopped trying and just relaxed, I could see what needed to be done.
Later that evening, when I went to the kitchen in search of dinner, I found Hannah and Lily sitting at the table together. They talked and giggled, and linked hands, playfully stroking one another’s fingers.
I held back in the entranceway to the kitchen, out of sight, watching them for a minute. Though they both looked like they’d cried recently, their smiles were genuine and their eyes were soft with love.
Footsteps walked up behind me.
“So,” Rooke said quietly, looking over my head at the scene in the kitchen, “instead of telling them to be together in front of the cameras, you help get them back together in secret.”
I glanced up at him over my shoulder.
“They look happy. That’
s what matters.” I went quiet for a minute. “I’ve realized that if I’m going to be team owner, I have to give up some of my responsibilities. Managing the team on my own has been empowering in a way, but trying to do everything all alone is just stupid.”
He went still. “Are you not going to play anymore?”
“No, no. I’m divvying up the work. Derek is handling the sponsors. Hannah is taking over our image. And I’m going to talk to Lily, see if she wants to manage marketing, advertisements, and design, like our logos. I think it’ll appeal to her creative side.”
Plus, it tied her responsibilities in with Derek and Hannah. Marketing and design went hand in hand with the sponsors, and with our image. Maybe if I could get her working with other members of the team on things other than just training together, she’d learn to open up some. Even more, it further integrated the team, made us more tight-knit and dependent on each other. It would make us stronger. A win-win situation.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Rooke said. “Look at you, delegating.”
I turned to face him. “I was wondering if you wanted to manage our training.”
He squinted at me, like he wasn’t following. “The trainers manage that.”
I shook my head. “The trainers know fitness. You know martial arts. Plus, you could keep an eye on the team. Watch out for our health, and if anyone slips.”
He hesitated. “With these new pods, I’m not sure that’s really an issue anymore.”
“That doesn’t stop us from partying too hard or working ourselves into exhaustion.”
He didn’t look sure. “Kali, I’m the last person who should—”
“You’re the best person for it. You’ve been there. You’ve picked yourself back up more than once, and you know the signs more than anyone.” I took a step closer to him. “You saw it in me when no one else did, and you knew exactly what I needed to come back from it. You’ve even taught me a few things. That couldn’t have been easy.”
He considered that. “True. If teaching you things is the benchmark for becoming a training instructor, then I should be a sensei by now.”
I reeled back to punch him in the gut, but he blocked my attack, locked his fingers around my wrist.
He grinned. “Is that part of my employee evaluation? Because I think I just passed.”
I gritted my teeth and shook him off. “You’d have to work with me.”
His head tilted. “How’s that?”
“I’m going back to being team captain. So, I’ll be studying the other teams and planning our strategies. Your input on our strengths and their weaknesses would be helpful.”
He considered that.
“Being captain is where you belong,” he said simply. “It’s where you’ve always belonged.”
“How do you figure?”
“You balance us out. When it’s the five of us, it’s something more than a team. I don’t really know how to describe it.”
I did. I knew exactly what he meant.
We felt like family.
I turned back to the kitchen, watching Hannah and Lily talk and giggle with each other. I smiled. Maybe watching them was making me sentimental or something, but suddenly I missed having that kind of connection with another person. One where you felt free. Where you could touch, laugh, and share without hesitation because that person seemed like they were just an extension of yourself.
I leaned back until my shoulders pressed against Rooke’s chest. He went still for a beat, not moving at all, but he didn’t back away, either. As we stood there together, I focused on his breaths, and the way his chest expanded out against my shoulders. I smiled. His breaths were steady. Strong. Like he was at peace.
So was I.
“If I’m watching out for the team’s health,” he began, “does that mean I can trade out your morning coffee for a protein shake?”
“Only if you want to know what it feels like to be my alarm clock.”
He chuckled against my back. “I don’t know. I think I could—”
“Don’t be a hero.”
He laughed again. Though I had my back pressed against his front and couldn’t see his face, I had a feeling he was smiling. I sighed. Lily and Hannah were back together. Derek had the sponsors wrapped around his finger. Rooke was doing well.
The stars were aligning.
At least, until later that night when I sat down at my desk. A random e-mail sat in my in-box from someone simply marked as GuestUser. The subject line read:
You need to see this. Do not reply.
I clicked my nail against the keyboard. The e-mail had made it into my in-box, which meant it hadn’t been marked as suspicious. That didn’t stop my own internal filters from questioning the message. Open. Don’t open.
I opened it.
The e-mail contained several screen captures from a chain of messages traded between two people. The names had been redacted, but the more I read, the more I suspected they were exchanges between Diana Foot and Tamachi.
You said they’d be out of the tournament by now. They better be out this round.
They will. They’ll be bankrupt soon anyway. Really, what does Ling think she’s doing?
You told us these pods would put them up against challenges they can’t defeat. That’s why we allowed them into the tournament.
Stop worrying, Diana. They’ll be out soon. And then they’ll be done for good.
A chill flooded my whole body as I read over the words. The realization left me in such complete shock, all I could do was sit at my desk and blink. I had my proof. There was no denying it now.
They were trying to kick me out of the league.
CHAPTER 17
I don’t know how long I sat in front of my computer screen, trying to process the words I’d just read. My mind was a clogged drain. The information was trying to come down the pipes but wouldn’t pass through.
They were trying to kick us out.
I repeated it to myself over and over, but it still wouldn’t sink in.
My computer chimed again. Another e-mail appeared in my in-box. I hovered over it as my pulse rose another ten beats a minute. Shallow breaths panted through my mouth and my stomach churned, but I pushed my finger down and forced myself to read it. In this e-mail, the screen captures were dated from a few weeks ago.
She cost us millions in PR damage control. I want her to pay as we did.
She is. She’s putting everything she has into this tournament.
A tournament that she’s still in. You said she’d be gone by now.
She will be. Next round, I’ll be sure of it.
Bankrupting her is not enough. She still has the public on her side.
By the end of this, her name will mean nothing.
If this message really was from a few weeks ago, then this must have been when they started to turn the media against us. And now it was coming true. We were going under, both financially and in the public eye.
In that moment, I knew only two things. One, they really were trying to kick us out of this tournament, and the whole thing had been a setup. Two, someone inside the VGL had access to these e-mails and was forwarding me the screen captures.
Three, the VGL was shit.
Four, they’d really pissed me off now.
We’d been invited to this tournament for no reason other than to destroy us. We never should have been here. We weren’t ready, and they knew it. Worst of all, they weren’t just doing it to me. They were messing with my team. Their careers. Their futures. For what? For ratings? Just so I’d shut up and go away?
They’d done it now. They’d found my breaking point.
They’d screwed with my team.
My. Team.
I gripped the edge of the desk, tighter and tighter, until I was trembling, and the desk groaned in response. Everything inside me burned. I stood and
was shaking so hard I had to steady myself against the desk. There were plenty of places I could go in the house to work this off. The training room. The garden outside. Dr. Renner’s office. But one place kept coming to mind again and again, and I could only ignore it for so long.
I marched through the house to Rooke’s door and knocked, straining against my own hand to keep it from pounding.
“Come in.”
When I opened the door, he was lying on his bed, on his side, book in hand. He looked like . . . well, him. And I hated it because it tugged at my heart a little.
I wanted to tell him everything. The e-mails from the VGL. The conspiracy against the team. But when I opened my mouth, all that came out was, “You were right.”
Rooke closed the book and grinned. “It happens sometimes.” When his gaze traced over my expression, his grin disappeared, and he stood from the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“I have these e-mails . . .” I panted between breaths, tears brimming in my eyes. “And the VGL is . . . And now the team . . .”
He grabbed my shoulders. “Whoa, slow down. What’s going on?”
I closed my eyes and forced a few slow breaths through my mouth. Any attempt at clearing my mind or my temper was futile at the moment, but I managed to dial it back a bit.
“Someone inside the VGL forwarded me a series of e-mails. You were right. They’re trying to kick us out, and it’s not just with the game. They’re trying to discredit us through the media, too. They know bankrupting us won’t be enough. They have to find a way to destroy our popularity and reputations, too.”
Rooke stared at me for a minute while he processed that.
“Who sent the e-mails—”
“I don’t know. But someone inside the VGL wants me to know what’s happening.” I swallowed thick as the realization hit me. Numbness took hold of my insides, and my knees went a little weak. “They’re doing this because of me. I never thought about how everything I was doing could hurt all of you. I’m a terrible person.”
He shook his head. “Kali, you’re not—”
“Yes, I am,” I exclaimed. “After I didn’t falsify your drug test, I cared more about what the media thought than how you were handling it. I bought out the team to create a better life for them, then I paraded you around like little dolls for the cameras. And now the VGL is trying to destroy our careers and livelihood just because I spoke out about corruption and tried to make the game safer. I try to do the right thing, and it doesn’t matter because I just mess it up anyway.”
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