Page 12 of Playing to Win

“We have to give the media a reason for Braydon’s ranting. And you’re it.”

My beloved boyfriend was so upset that I went to the party with Faith last night instead of going out with him that he’d gotten drunk and complained about Faith. Not because she stole his thunder, just his girlfriend’s attention.

“He was invited to the party though. Cooper asked him.”

Kira paused. “Does anyone else know that?”

“I have no idea.”

She made a note. “Cooper will cooperate. As long as no one out there knows that he could have been at that party, we can make this work. We’re counting on you, Jayna.”

At least Kira had more faith that I could do this than the suits had. I was torn between thinking it was stupid and wanting to prove them wrong. “Okay, when do we begin?”

“He’s on his way. No time like the present.”

Chapter5

Pinky swear

Braydon

Findingmy way around the Blaze arena was a challenge. I was ten minutes late when I finally found door 415 with a plaque that readKira Martin, Manager, Media Relations. I’d hoped this meeting was about something else—maybe talking about me staying up for a few games—but no, they called me in because I was a media relations problem. I pulled in a breath, willed my head to stop pounding, and knocked on the door.

A woman’s voice said, “Come in.” It was loud enough that I flinched before opening the door.

Inside was a medium-sized office with a large desk, covered in paper and files, as well as a laptop. Behind it sat a middle-aged woman with perfectly styled dark hair and a severe expression on her face. She didn’t stand, just stared at me.Yikes.

Sitting on one of the chairs in front of the desk was a woman about my age. Her hair was blonde, short and curly, her eyes brown, and she would have been cute if it wasn’t for the frown on her face as she glared at me. She had a computer on her lap, and a wooden cane leaning against her chair.

After a moment of silence, I spoke. “Um, hi. I was told I was supposed to be here? I’m Braydon Mitchell.”

Neither woman looked surprised to hear my name. Neither looked very pleased about it either.

“Come in and close the door.” The older woman’s voice was sharp.

Why was I here with the Blaze media people? Yeah, that video was messed up, and I deserved to get in some trouble for it. But the Inferno guy would be taking care of that, wouldn’t he? Was it because I was in epically bad shit? Like, bad enough that they wanted to end my contract? No, that would be Player Relations, not PR.

Maybe they needed me on the bench for another game before De Vries was back? But if it was just for another game or two, would they care?

The woman behind the desk cleared her throat. Right, she’d told me to come in.

I shut the door behind me and owned up before they started to chew me out. “This is where I need to start apologizing?”

The younger woman’s eyebrows lifted. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

I pushed back my hair with fingers that trembled. I quickly shoved my hands into my dress pants pockets. No suit today—it needed dry cleaning, but I’d done the best I could for this encounter. Dress pants, shirt, and a tie that felt like it was strangling me, but I’d do anything to salvage my career.

“I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I’m embarrassed about that video and that’s not who I am. When I called my parents last night, after the game, I learned something upsetting, and that’s why I went to the bar. I don’t get drunk. Like, I have a two-beer limit that I always stick to. My roommate showed me the video, and I did say that, and shouldn’t have, and I’m really sorry.”

“Sit down.” The older woman waved me to a chair in front of her desk.

I sat, an empty chair between me and the younger woman, but she leaned back as if I was toxic. Wait, did I not shower well enough? I tried to discreetly sniff but couldn’t notice anything. Didn’t help my anxiety.

“I’m Kira Martin. This,” she indicated the woman beside me, “is Jayna Templin, our media coordinator. You’ve caused a problem for us, Mr. Mitchell.”

I still wasn’t sure why the Inferno guy, Steve, wasn’t dealing with this, but my brain was not operating at top levels after last night, so I just said sorry again and waited.

Ms. Martin tapped her fingers on the desk. “I’ve seen the full video, not just what was posted online, so I don’t want to hear about any context bullshit. You have a lot of ground to make up for after that self-indulgent outburst. That’s why you’re here.”

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