Page 112 of The Thing About My Rival

Maybe it fell off in the owners’ office when I was up there yesterday finalizing today’s travel plans.

After a record-breaking sprint up the stairs, the sound of Miller and Leo chatting in their office brings me to a screeching halt. Why are they not in a limo on their way to the airport?

“It’s the only logical thing to do,” Leo says.

Not only is it wrong to eavesdrop on their conversation, I certainly don’t have time for it. But there’s something about the vibe emanating from the gap in the door that brings me to a halt and sends a shiver through me that my grandma would describe as “someone just walked over my grave.”

“When should we tell her?” Miller asks.

My blood runs as cold as if I am, indeed, six feet under.

“Wellnowwouldn’t be good,” Leo scoffs.

“No time would be good,” Miller mutters. “And for the first time in my life I feel bad about laying someone off.” He makes a noise that would indicate he’s shuddering at the thought.

My whole body shudders too, making my knees buckle. I lean against the wall, my trembling hands instinctively reaching for the charm that’s missing from my zipper.

“Exactly,” Leo says. “It’s just business. We were always going to have to pick one of them for next season. And all the common sense says we should go with Hugo.”

It’s like accidentally overhearing two sympathetic doctors discussing how to deliver your terrible diagnosis.

A few minutes ago, this was going to be a great day. Now I want to throw up and cry and punch a hole in this wall all at the same time.

Of course they’ve picked him. Of course they have. Just like I always knew they would. But it doesn’t hurt any less. It actually hurts even more than I ever imagined it would. This moment marks the end of my ties with the Commoners. The club that’s been part of my life since I was two years old.

I push off the wall, take a deep breath into mytrembling chest, and throw back my shoulders. They’re not going to take me down without a fight.

Not that there’s really time for this when I also need to find my charm, get on that bus, and concentrate on the game and getting the guys into the playoffs.

I give a cursory rap on the door while swinging it open. “Hi.”

One look at my face, which feels like it’s on fire, and their expressions immediately scream that they know I heard them.

“Drew, we–”

I hold my hand up to Miller. “Do I not get to fight my corner?”

“This is not how we wanted you to find out.” Leo stares down at his desk and grabs at the only thing on it—Amelia’s soccer ball-shaped stapler. “And I’m sorry, but it’s a done deal.”

“Yes,” Miller says. “Hugo’s already accepted and?—”

My boiling blood turns to ice. “Hugo alreadyknows?”

“There was a rumor that Bayern Munich was approaching him for an assistant fitness coach position,” Miller stammers out. “And we wanted to be sure to keep him.”

“And you were going to tell mewhen,exactly?”

“We thought telling you right before this big game would be unnecessarily cruel. So we decided to wait.”

“But you thought that Hugo knowing I didn’t get the job for days before you tell me isnotunnecessarily cruel?” I mean, what the actual fuck?

“This might be a bit of a catch twenty-two,” Leo says.

Miller thrusts his hands into his pockets and strolls over to the window. “Yeah, we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t. A lose-lose situation. A case of notbeing able to win for losing. We’re kinda between a rock and a har–”

“Yes, I get it. It must be terrible for you.” My fists crunch into tight balls at my sides.

“Sorry.” He turns back to face me, his expression full of shame for trying to brush it off. “The team’s done better than anyone dared hope,” he says. “And a lot of that is due to you.”

---