Page 89 of Your Secret to Keep

Raising an eyebrow, I slowly reply, “I feel like this is a joke.” It’s not the most eloquent thing to say, but it’s the only logical thing I can get out.

Megan leans on the table and insists, “It’s not. You’re a strong, motivating woman in sports, and we want to keep you. We need to do some restructuring and find something else for you.”

“What about the intern? The one who got fired before me?”

Megan laughs, putting her hands over her eyes for a flash of a second. “We’re talking night and day if we’re comparing these situations. The Jags executive in question was married, and his wife came to the facility to confront him, and the intern destroyed his office. That’s a great example of what not to do. This is not the same.”

Trent jumps in. “If you’re uncomfortable working here, with the added layer of your relationship with Brooks, we’ll understand. But it’s our hope that you’ll continue here.”

I shake my head. “You’re not for real.”

Almost everyone chuckles and looks at each other around the table. “Yes, we’re for real,” Megan insists.

This isn’t what I expected. Instead of some bureaucratic “you broke a silent rule” cop out, they’re recognizing my value. They’re placing what I can bring the organization ahead of who I’m dating, or what that may look like.

“There’s such power for people like you in this field. You’re inspiring the next generation of girls who love sports, and we’re hoping you’ll do that in Jags purple,” Trent offers, smiling wide and sitting back.

I shake my head, making sure I’m indeed awake, and ask, “Okay. What happens now?”

Someone from HR chimes in, “First, we’ll do some paperwork in regard to your relationship with Brooks. Then we’d like to work togetheron putting out a statement. We can show you a few suggestions but are happy to make adjustments. Plus, Brooks has already made a statement, so—”

My eyes snap upward. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Megan looks to me, brows furrowed. “He gave a statement and it went live a few minutes before the meeting. I thought he would’ve told you.”

The person from HR opens a folder, pulls out a piece of paper, and slides it over to me. “This was all him—a personal statement.”

Recently, my privacy was violated when pictures and videos from my home were taken and shared publicly without my knowledge or consent. I’ve always given everything I have to this sport, this team, and this organization. Now I’m asking for one thing: to keep a piece of my life to myself—the part that includes Lia, the woman who showed up when I least expected but needed her most.

In a sport that’s still dominated by men, Lia is the type of person organizations dream of finding. She’s smart, hard-working, and loves a challenge. The next time you meet someone like Lia, think about what they bring to the sport and the fans, instead of personal details that aren’t yours to examine.

I’m hoping you can respect this request.

Go Jags.

-Brooks Pittman

I look to see everyone watching me. It’s overwhelming.

“We can give you some time to think it over. There’s no rush,” Megan assures me.

My brain is trying to keep up with the mental whiplash I’m going through. I expected to give a heartful apology, thankeveryone for the opportunity, and move on gracefully. Instead, they’re asking me if I need time to think about keeping my dream job.

I’m about to tell them I don’t need time. That I’m one hundred percent in. But suddenly, Brooks barrels through the door.

“You can’t fire her. That’s ridiculous!” Jaws drop and hands cover mouths with each step he takes further into the conference room. “You know that’s not the right thing to do, and you always tell me the Jags get ahead by doing the right things. Trent, you told me that!” He’s pointing and standing in front of the general manager. Everyone’s eyes are wide and Megan is trying not to laugh.

I should say something, but I can’t. My body is frozen.

“Brooks, relax,” Trent urges.

“No, I can’t relax. I have an ex, one Iwishwould leave me alone for the rest of time, and she’s the one who leaked this. She had the pictures taken, but Lia’s the one in trouble? How is that okay? No fucking way.”

“We’re not firing her.” Trent’s voice is collected and calm.

The look on Brooks’ face is absolutely priceless. “You’re not?” He sets his hands on his hips. “You’re not.” This time, it’s not a question. His eyes find mine, only to see my lips pressed into the thinnest of lines.

“No. We need to figure it out, but we want her to stay with the Jags. Is that okay with you?” The grin Trent wears drips with playful sarcasm while people laugh around the table.

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