Page 62 of Playing Rucking Hard

Skye scoffs. “Kareene, come on. If any of us had a player sniffing around, you think we wouldn’t report it immediately?”

I don’t let myself flinch. Skye is giving me an out, creating the narrative. All I have to do is let it happen.

Kareene studies us, her fingers tapping against her desk. “Because there are rumors. And I don’t need to tell you how dangerous rumors can be.”

I force myself to meet her gaze, steady. “I don’t know where they’re coming from, but they’re wrong.”

Kareene exhales through her nose, unimpressed. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She watches me for a long moment, waiting for me to break. But I don’t. I can’t. “Each of you signed a contract. Did you understand it?”

“Yes,” we say in unison.

“Do you understand that the penalty for fraternization with players is immediate sacking?”

“Yes.”

“I want to make it very clear that we know a player has made several unauthorized visits to the cheerleader’s locker rooms. Formally accusing him of stalking will have serious consequences for him and the club.”

Beside me, Kelli squirms, and I’m glad I never confided in any of my friends.

“But if you come forward now and explain that a player was making you feel uncomfortable, that you feared for your job if you accused him of sexual harassment, then I can help you.”

I decide to speak first, “I can’t speak for the other cheerleaders, but I’ve always found the players respectful. Even when Skye and I were at the charity event, they were like our big brothers.”

“How so?” Kareene looks to Skye.Come on, Skye. Back me up.

“You know how those events are,” Skye shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Alcohol flows, and wives get forgotten. Emma and I worked the event and had each other’s backs when the sleazes got too much, but Cooper and Dylan stepped in a couple of times.

“How so?”

Again, Skye answers. “Physically, they’d step up and introduce themselves. If the sponsor or donor was impressed, they engaged them in football conversation. We could wait a minute or two before excusing ourselves from the conversation and move away. If guys weren’t sports fans, then the players would ask if they could have a word with us about the auction.”

“Is that right?” Kareena stares at me until I want to look away.

“But we also used it to our advantage and set up a new sponsor for that tool company, batteries I think?” I look to Skye, who nods. “Mackenzie Badley asked Dylan Fleski to call us and thank us for our assistance in landing the new sponsorship deal.”

“Dylan?” Kareena confirms, and I nod.

“He also asked if I was okay after an incident I had with a biotech executive.” I think back to the night and decide a little exaggeration could come in handy. “He saw I was upset after rescuing me from an uncomfortable situation and asked how I pulled up.”

“Is that all?”

I share a glance with Skye before responding. “Isn’t that enough? We were there as representative of the Southern Mavericks, but some sponsors or donors don’t understand the difference between cheer and whore. I can’t speak for Skye, but I think it says a lot about the Southern Mavericks’ culture that the players wanted to look out for Skye and me even though it wasn’t part of their job.”

“I couldn’t have said it better,” Skye agrees. “What about you, Kelli? Any issues with the players?”

“Loki gave me some of his game day tickets when I had my family coming to Sydney. He didn’t need them and heard I was four short.”

“Kelli’s not going to get into trouble for getting free tickets?” I say, almost accusingly. “You can’t call that fraternization?”

“No, no, Kelli’s fine,” Kareene mutters, almost to herself. I want to relax, but I’ve watched enough thriller movies to know that the minute everyone relaxes is when the villain strikes.

“Kareene, cheerleaders talk. Dancers talk,” I say, taking the lead. “As far as players go, the Mavericks are worth cheering for. They are good guys. I can’t think of one who gives off stalker vibes.”

Have I done enough? Can Kareene see through my façade? Skye, Kelli, and I remain sitting, our backs straight and hands on our laps as seconds turn into minutes and it feels like minutes turn into hours. In reality, it’s only a minute or two before Kareene nods and leans back. “If that changes, I expect you to come to me first. Understood?”

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