Page 18 of Power Play

“I’m fine.” I add in a laugh to really sell it, and for half a second, I believe myself. “It’s no big deal. I’m not going to lose any sleep over him.”

Except last night when I was in bed, negativity raced through my head. It was an endless spiral, self-deprecating thought after self-deprecating thought until the sun came up and I could focus on the day, not my shortcomings.

I’m not pretty enough.

I’m not successful enough.

I’m too much of an inconvenience.

There’s someone better out there.

I never used to have such shitty self-confidence, but when someone you love repeatedly tells you you’regoodbut notgreat, over and over again, it wears you down. It burrows into every corner of your soul until you’re left with nothing but fractured pieces of yourself. Nothing but attempts of trying to move on and giving up instead.

“It’s okay. Really.” I smile at the last guys climbing onto the plane, bleary-eyed, yawning, and five minutes late. “He wasn’t for me. The next one probably won’t be either, but I figured I’d have to go through some trials and tribulations before I found someone to have fun with.”

I pull a pen out from behind my ear to try and open my notebook, trying to distract myself from the plane rumbling down the runway.

I’ve always hated flying, and focusing on anything other than the physics behind lifting in the air andstayingin the air is the only way to keep from panicking.

“We’ll find you a nice Texas boy at dinner. A man who can wear the hell out of his Levi’s.” Lexi glances at me. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah. You know I hate take off and landing.” I squeeze my eyes shut and grip the armrests, attempting to take a deep breath. “I’ll be okay.”

“Think of hot cowboys with boots and hats we’ll see at dinner. And, hey, if we die, at least you’ll go out with a vision of a sex god on your mind.”

“Small victories.” I laugh nervously as the wheels come up and we lift off the ground. I crack an eye open and breathe a sigh of relief. “That’s freaking terrifying. I don’t know how people do this every day. Forty-one times a season is more than enough for me.”

“Get to work, love bug.” She pats my thigh. “So we can have a rootin’ tootin’ good time tonight.”

Hours later,I yawn and stretch my arms above my head. My back is sore from the flight to Austin, and I’m tired from a busy day that shows no signs of slowing down.

I’ve barely had any time to catch my breath. As soon as the plane touched down, we were on the bus to the arena where the guys went through their full practice routine. Now it’s off to the hotel to meet with the broadcast team to go over tomorrow’s agenda.

As a chronic ten-minutes-early type of woman, I’m ahead of schedule, so I take a grateful breather outside the conference room. Voices travel through the door that’s been left slightly ajar, and I hear a deep laugh. I pause, wondering what’s so funny, and stop to listen.

“I swear to god, if I have to hear her ask one more stupid question about how their early skating years shaped their career in the NHL, I’m going to lose it,” someone says, and I recognize the voice as Charlie’s, my boss. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s slept with half the team already. Their mouths hang open when she walks around. Bunch of fucking teenage boys.”

My fingers curl around the door handle. I grip the metal so tightly, my knuckles turn white. I put my ear to the door and press my body against the barrier so I can hear without making my presence known.

There’s no way in hell I’m walking in there right now. Not until I know who they’re talking about so inappropriately.

“You don’t think she’s hot? I bet she’d look nice bent over your desk,” Doug, his co-announcer, adds.

“She’s not horrible to look at. We could tag-team her. It’d probably loosen her up a bit.”

“It’s cute she thinks she’s going to have a permanent spot on the crew. I almost feel bad for her. She does all that work, and no one is ever going to see it. At least she wears tight skirts. Gives us something to look at.”

“She’s so goddamn sensitive though,” Charlie says. “She couldn’t get through that interview with Miller talking about his childhood last season without crying. It was embarrassing.”

“I’ve always said women should stick to the boring work: HR. Accounting. Leave the sports to the men.”

“They can’t even do HR right. I’ve had complaints against me for years, and I’m still here. Good fucking luck getting rid of me. Who would they replace me with?Her? She’d sink us. I have almost as much power in this organization as the fucking CEO, and I know I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hey.” A throat clears, and a third voice joins the conversation. “Feels like we should be focusing on the schedule for tomorrow’s game, not talking about someone who isn’t here to defend themselves.”

My hands shake as I step away from the door. Then another and another until I can’t hear them anymore. Until I can’t hear their laughter or the vile comments they’re making.

Understanding dawns.

---