I wanted to scream.
I wanted to rip down the walls.
I wanted to find her.
"You hate me right now," Rick said calmly. "And I don't blame you."
Slowly, I lifted my head and stared at him. The side of my jaw twitched, and I knew I couldn't let a single word escape my mouth until the rage lessened. But all I could think about was her. How she'd feel when she heard about this.
"If I find out that you got a single second of footage of Molly without her consent, or a single moment we thought was private … if there's a fraction of a frame on that film that makes her look like she's being disrespected, I will make your life hell on earth," I vowed.
In the seconds after I spoke, it took me a moment to realize that he started smiling.
"What?" I snapped.
"And you still don't see it," he mused.
I shoved my hands into my hair and tugged on the strands. "Quit talking in circles, Rick."
He leaned toward me. "Think about what you just said to me. It wasn't about how you look, if you come off bad, or if it tarnishes your reputation. You'd tear my life apart if I did something to her."
My hands dropped numbly into my lap.
"She stepped back because she cared more about you being focused going into this season. She stepped back because it hurt her too much to be around you. And you let her. I'm not saying that you care less about her, but holy hell, Noah, for such a smart man, you are a fucking idiot when it comes to what you feel."
I swallowed roughly.
He turned his laptop and punched a few buttons. "There, I'm sending you our rough concept trailer. I'd intended to show it to you today before you and Beatrice lost your ever-loving, control-freak minds," he mumbled. After he snapped the laptop shut, he faced me again.
"H-how did you know?" My voice sounded like someone took a rusty, chewed-up chainsaw to my throat.
"Please," Marty said. "The day she stopped filming with us, you flipped the switch into Terminator mode. It was like watching a cyborg pretend to be a human."
I gave him an unamused look.
He tapped his camera. "Can't argue with me on this, buddy. I have it on film."
Rick held up a hand. "On film or not, whether you agree or not, I like you and I like Molly. I think you guys are great together." He leaned in. "But if you can't pull your head out of your ass long enough to realize what you found in her, then you don't deserve her."
Chewing on his words was slow and uncomfortable because the grain of truth was so big that it was unavoidable. I stared at him for a minute before speaking.
"I thought you weren't supposed to force action."
He laughed. "You know, my wife was filming a nature documentary a couple of years ago, and a flock of penguins got stuck in a ravine. The crew had to watch, completely helpless, as dozens of birds tried and tried and tried to get out to no avail. And if they did nothing, that entire flock would've died. So they broke their rule about intervening and carved stairs in the ice and snow, and the penguins marched right out of that ravine as soon as they had the chance."
I shook my head. "Not sure that's a flattering comparison if you're me."
He slapped me on the back. "They were smart enough to climb those stairs, Griffin. All I'm asking you to do is open your eyes. Once you do, your life will never be the same."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Molly
My office was quiet as I typed out a reply to an email that had been sitting in my inbox for all of two minutes. The plus side to absolutely no social life for the past eight weeks was that I was on top of my game at work.
Sure, the dark circles under my eyes were as dark as the movies I'd been bingeing, and I'd accidentally bawled my eyes out watching a holiday romance movie on Netflix when I was too lazy to get up and find the remote, but at work, I was slaying.
Turns out having your heart bruised up was excellent for your professional life.
I was a quick email replier, and Noah was breaking sack records left and right.
Okay, fine, my accomplishment didn't sound as impressive as his, but I'd take my victories where I could get them.
I typed harder, ignoring the impulse to pull out my phone and watch the footage of him getting the game ball in the locker room from the day before. He'd looked ... bored.
In the seven times I watched it the night before, tucked under my covers so Isabel couldn't hear me and hide my phone, I studied his face. He was smiling, but behind his eyes, I saw no spark. Absolutely nothing. And it tore uneven holes in my heart.
Someone knocked on my office door, and I called over my shoulder, "Come in."
"I hope I'm not interrupting," my boss said quietly.
Something in her tone had me pausing before I swiveled my chair to face her.
"Not at all," I said, watching her warily as she walked into my office and closed the door quietly behind her. "How was your weekend?"
She didn't sit, simply curled her fingers around the back of the chair facing me on the opposite side of my desk.
"Enlightening," she answered cryptically.
"What happened?"
"I need you to answer a question for me, and answer it honestly, Molly."
Her formality, reminiscent of when she first started, had me sitting up straight. "What is it?"
"How long have you been in a sexual relationship with Noah Griffin?"
My skin prickled hot, then ice, ice cold, sweeping between both extremes in a rush from the top of my head to my toes. "I'm not in one," I said instantly. "I haven't spoken to him in weeks."
Eight weeks and three days and like, six-ish hours. Not that I was counting with every miserable beat of my heart.
Beatrice exhaled slowly. "Then I’ll clarify. Have you ever been in a sexual relationship with him?"
The breath halted painfully in my lungs as I opened my mouth, but no words came out. At her question, all the memories I'd locked tight into a black box in my mind came tumbling out, one after another, after another. The pieces of my time with him that I missed so desperately. And it showed on my face, I knew that like I knew my own name.
"Dammit, Molly," she said under her breath. "You lied to me. You lied to me."
I stood slowly, hand clutched to my chest. "Beatrice, I'm so sorry."
"I wish you hadn't done that." She shook her head, gripping the back of the chair even more tightly. "I can't make an exception for you, Molly. I had a rule, and you violated it."
The reality of what she was saying had my skin rushing hot again, blood pooling under the surface in a way that had my face blazing with embarrassment. "Beatrice, please."
She held up a hand. "I had specifically laid out the rules in that job agreement that we discussed and that you signed. One was my no fraternization with the crew or any subject of the documentary. And two was the discussion we had about honesty. About trust." She paused, and her eyes went suspiciously bright. "Do you know how furious I was when I thought someone had taken advantage of you? I looked you in the eye, and I took you at your word when you told me nothing had happened. I trusted you."
My voice cracked when I interrupted, a messy, inconvenient truth falling from my lips. "I fell in love with him, Beatrice. It wasn't some meaningless fling."
It was the first time I’d admitted it out loud, and my heart squeezed painfully.
"And in the process, you broke the trust I had in you," she threw back. "Now, I look back on you requesting the change in your role, and I question it. I question your ability to set your emotional state aside and do your job. I question your ability to think through your choices before you make them."
Dashing a tear away from my cheek, I cursed how easily I seemed to cry when it came to anything surrounding that giant brute of a man. "I've been doing my job," I told her. "And I've been doing it well. You know I have."
"Was it about Noah? Your request?"
Slowly, I nodded.
Beatrice dropped her head and sighed heavily. "Thank y
ou for being honest, Molly." Then she lifted her gaze back to me, and I felt very much like someone about to face a one-woman firing squad.
Ready.
Aim.
And her finger squeezed.
Fire.
"You have until noon to clean out your desk. Your employment with the Washington Wolves has been terminated. Someone from HR will be here shortly to take care of the paperwork."
I sank back into my seat and dropped my head into my hands, tears falling freely now as she walked quickly out of my office. For my whole life, this place had been a hub, a central figure for my family. Even before my dad died, before my mom walked away. I couldn't remember a time when I hadn't run through the halls like I owned them. And now, I'd be walked out with a box in my hands. The fact that she'd left me alone at all should've made me feel slightly better because even though I'd lied, even though I'd broken her rules, she trusted me enough to give me some privacy.
At a moment like this, a girl would normally call her mom. My hands shook as I picked my phone up from my desk and thumbed down my favorite contacts. The phone rang once before Logan's wife, Paige, picked up.
"What's up, buttercup?"
At the sound of her voice, I broke down, blubbering and crying and failing to get even a few intelligible words out.
"Molly, Molly, calm down," she instructed. "I'm driving, and hang on, I'm pulling over, but I need you to tell me if you're hurt. Are you okay?"
"Beatrice just fired me," I got out.
"What?" Paige yelled. "Oooh, I will burn that bitch's house down."
A watery laugh escaped me. "I messed up, Paige."
"Oh honey, you couldn't have messed up that bad. You're so good at your job," she said. "Hang on, let me text your brother."
"No, Paige, don't interrupt his practice." I inhaled, slowly getting control over my tears. "I'll come over after I leave here. I have until noon to clear out my things."
She was quiet and, knowing my sister-in-law, quiet was dangerous.
"Paige," I said again.
"Hmm?"
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing. Just ... imagining you having to box up your desk and how that makes me want to rip her hair out."
I laughed again. "I hope Emmett isn't in the car with you. You're way too bloodthirsty to be in mom-mode right now."
"Hi, Mol," he piped up in the background. "Mommy looks scary right now. She's got angry eyes."
"I'll bet." I rubbed my forehead. "I need to start going through my things. And, ugh, someone from HR will be here soon."
"Bullshit, this is complete and utter bullshit," she muttered. "What happened? What's her reasoning for firing you?"
"Can we talk about it when I come over?" I asked wearily.
"Yeah, sweetie, we can." She was quiet for a second. "I love you. It'll be okay."
"Love you too, Paige."
The call disconnected, and I snatched a tissue from the box behind my computer monitor, noisily blowing my nose. It took me a few minutes of doing my best zombie impression before I started opening drawers and staring blankly at what needed to stay and what I should take with me when I heard two things at once.
The stomp of a man's feet.
The click of heels coming from the opposite direction.
"Paige," I whispered. "What did you do?"
Logan arrived at my door just before Allie Sutton-Pierson did.
"What happened?" they asked in tandem.
Logan ripped his hat off and rushed over to me, wrapping me in a hug that had me fighting not to go blubbering again. "I'm so sorry, Mol. This is bullshit."
I was wiping my face when Allie closed the door to my office.
Allie was just past forty, and as she stood, arms crossed, worried expression stamped on her stunning face, she looked barely over thirty-five. "She wasn't in her office when I walked down, but I will have words with her as soon as I see her."
"It's okay, Allie," I said. "You don't have to do that."
As the owner of one of the most financially successful football franchises of the past decade, Allie wasn't accustomed to people telling her what she could and couldn't do. "I know I don't have to," she said calmly. Underneath that calm was steel. "But you, your sisters, Emmett, you are part of my family. And I do not like people messing with my family."
Logan rubbed a hand on my back. "Let her help, Molly. You don't deserve this happening to you."
I gave him a sad smile. "You don't even know what I did."
"Because it doesn't matter," he replied instantly.
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, it does. What if I punched her?"
"Did you?" Allie asked.
"No."
"Did you sexually harass her?"
"Of course not."
Logan shook his head. "I knew I didn't like her. Not from that very first meeting."
"Come on, you guys, people get fired all the time. It sucks, but I'll be okay."
Allie propped her hands on her hips, which were wrapped in a sleek black skirt. "People who are phenomenal at their job do not get fired all the time."
Logan chimed in. "Exactly. And you are good at your job."
The two of them started building off each other, tossing ideas back and forth. Words like harassment. Unlawful termination. Performance Improvement Plan. Firing Beatrice. I closed my eyes and tried to tune them out, but finally, I held my hands up, and yelled, "Stop, please!"
They went quiet.
"I screwed up, okay?" I looked at both of them. "I-I slept with Noah on a filming weekend, then lied to her about it when she asked if I'd violated her contract, which included a no-fraternization policy."
Logan's face flushed red, his jaw clenched tight, and he stared at the floor like it held the world's secrets.
Allie deflated like a snipped balloon. "Oh," she said weakly.
"I've stayed away from him since then," I continued, tears building in the back of my throat, "but it doesn't matter. She knows. I-I thought that I’d thought it through all the way. That I knew what I was getting into. That's always been my problem, right?" I wiped my face, daring Logan to argue with the look on my face. "How many times have you had to step in over the years when I didn’t think something through? When I did something because I felt like it or because it was fun or silly or ... felt right at the time."
"Molly," he said on an exhale. "You're young. Making mistakes is a part of life."
"I know. But so is stuff like this, Logan." I shook my head. "I don't regret my time with Noah, but I knew it was a risk when I did it. If this is the fallout of the weekend I got with him, then I'll take it."
Allie sighed. "It still feels wrong, Molly. There's no rule in the Wolves handbook that prohibits a relationship with a player and another employee."
"No, but Beatrice’s contract is different. It's separate from that." I swallowed. "It was a stipulation that Beatrice specifically added to my job description, which hinges on the relationship with Amazon."
Logan glanced at Allie. "So she's right?"
Allie shrugged. "I'm not involved enough when it comes to those types of situations, but"—she nodded—"I think she's right. And not only that, as long as Beatrice isn't firing her for any discriminatory reasons, Washington is an at will employment state. She can fire her at any time without providing a reason."
"That's dumb," he said sullenly.
"You sound like Emmett," I told him with a reluctant smile.
My brother wrapped his arm around me. "I'll take that as a compliment, kiddo."
Allie watched us with a sad smile. "Do you want help with your desk?"
I shook my head. "I'd rather do this alone, if that's okay with you guys."
"Of course." She met me in the middle of my office and gave me a tight squeeze. "You're a rock star, Molly. If there's anything I can do moving forward, let me know, okay? We're always looking for help at the Team Sutton Foundation."
Another job I'd get without blinking because of my last name. I smiled at
her all the same. "Thank you, Allie. I will."
Logan took longer to convince, but after three more hugs and five more offers to stand outside my office while I cleaned up to make sure whoever came from HR was nice to me, I all but shoved him out of the room that wouldn't be my office anymore.
He was just beyond the corner when I called his name. His head popped back through the open door. "Yeah?"
"Not a word to Noah."
Logan opened his mouth to argue.
"No." I pointed a finger at him. "It happened weeks ago. I am an adult, and so is he. You don't get to interfere this time."
He narrowed his eyes. "Define interfere."
After a second, I ticked off the most obvious answers on my fingers. "No yelling, no telling him what happened, no threatening, no embarrassing him or me in front of the guys, because Logan Ward, if you march back in that practice and get in his face about this, I am the one who is embarrassed. Do you understand me?"
Paige had these scary eyes that she used on my brother when she went from I'm serious to I will end you if you cross me. I'd seen them often over the past ten years, and I gave it my best attempt. It must have worked because he grimaced. "Fine."
"I mean it."
He held up his hands. "I promise! Geez. You're as bad as Paige," he mumbled before he left.
I was grinning as he went back to practice. And given the current situation, that was pretty impressive. Everything after that went as smoothly as possible.
I signed some papers. Filled two file boxes. And the security guard who walked me out started tearing up because I'd known him since I was five.
"Ain't right," he said under his breath.
I wrapped my arm around his thin waist and gave him a squeeze. "I'll be okay, Rod, I promise."
He hugged me back, wiping at his face with the sleeves of his shirt after he took my security badge from me. Before I walked out the door into the parking lot, my eyes watered up again as I stared at the red and black logo of the wolf tossing its head back in a howl.
Focused Page 18
