Page 20 of Just One Season
Throwing money at problems doesn’t always solve them, but maybe in this case, it would.
CHAPTER 7
Abs for Days
LUCY
Monday, September 23
Istare at the email in my inbox, my cheeks high with a smile. I was hoping to hear back quickly from Friday’s phone interview with Winchester FC, but first thing Monday morning—so the afternoon in England—was even faster than I imagined.
To: Lucy Knox
From: Marcie Lancaster, Winchester FC HR
Date: Monday, 23 September
Subject: Congratulations & Next Steps
Dear Lucy,
We were all very impressed with your phone interview on Friday. We’d love to move you on to the next stage of the process for senior director of marketing and public relations for Winchester Football Club located inWinchester, England.
The next step is a video interview in November. I will send you a list of dates and times to see if any work for you. If you progress after that interview, we’ll ask for references and schedule you for an in-person interview in January. The job will start on or before 05 May 2025.
I squeal and read the rest of the email, the blood pumping through my veins. Isowant to do this on my own. I do not want to use my father or my old boss at DC FC as a reference, but after eight years there, I don’t have much choice.
That’s why I’m here.
I want to prove to myself—and Winchester FC—that I’m the best person for this job. That’s why I have to kick ass at this job for the Blizzard.
After starting at DC FC, I got promoted to manager within a year and director a few years after that. But with each promotion, I got the side eye from coworkers who assumed I was moving up because of my father. I’d been so frustrated to be stuck in the same job with the same responsibilities for the past five years. Richard kept telling me to be patient, that he’d give me progressive work soon.
I started to think my father was holding me back on purpose. To keep control of me.
But my coworkers had made a fair assumption. My father had helped me with so many things in my life.
In high school, I’d made the top team at a big youth soccer club but sat on the bench for most of the games. I preferred to be on the sidelines cheering anyway, or the admin offices working, or even helping coach the local elementary school kids.
I’m sick of my father assuming he knows what’s best for me. I’m thirty-three years old, and I’m done with men trying to control me.
But when I got a text from Ron this morning, it really threw me. We haven’t spoken since he dropped off that box of stuff.
And Taco.
Ron
Hey. Can I call you sometime today?
I ignored the shit out of that text. What could he possibly want to talk to me about? At first I was hurt that he’d not reached out after we broke up. But then I realized it was a blessing that he was just going to let me get on with my life without him.
Something that wouldn’t have been possible if he’d been down the hall at work.
I gather up my laptop and notebook so I can head to Lina for our one-to-one, then pause at the door to my office to take a few deep breaths.
Each morning since last week’s locker room incident, I have to pep talk myself into coming into work.
The humiliation of walking into a locker room full of half-dressed hockey players.
