Page 136 of The Assist
“You want time to deliberate?” Ben offers, cool as ever.
Mike nods stiffly. “Ten minutes.”
Ben and I rise. We wait outside the boardroom, in the same hallway where Dylan kissed me for the first time. My hands shake, even though I’ve kept calm. Even though I know we presented everything we needed to.
Ben exhales slowly. “You good?”
I nod. “You were brilliant.”
He shrugs. “I just hate watching people try to intimidate someone smarter than them.”
I smile faintly. “You always did get righteous on my behalf.”
“I’ll stop when you stop needing backup,” he says, softer.
The door opens twenty minutes later, not ten. Mike’s the one who comes out. He doesn’t look smug. Or angry. Helooks tired. “We’ve reviewed everything,” he says. “The board has agreed not to pursue disciplinary action.” The air leaves my lungs in a rush. “We’d like to issue a joint statement,” he adds, “clarifying that the relationship does not constitute a breach of conduct. If you’re willing to participate.”
Ben doesn’t even look at me. “She’ll consider it. After the language is vetted.”
Mike nods. “Understood.”
He hesitates, then adds, “Mia, I’m sorry it came to this. You’re valued here. That hasn’t changed.”
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I just give a tight nod.
Ben claps me gently on the back once we’re outside. “Well,” he says. “That was fun.”
I let out a laugh that’s more of a sob. “I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” he says. “You stood your ground.”
I pause. “Do you think I did the right thing?”
Ben slings an arm over my shoulders. “You fought for the person you love, Mia. And you did it without sacrificing your integrity. That was theonlyright thing to do.”
I wipe at my eyes, and for the first time in days, I feel something close to peace.
“Can we find Dylan?” I ask.
Ben grins. “I think he’s been waiting all morning.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
DYLAN
I’ve been sitting in the fucking equipment cage for forty-five minutes pretending to help Murphy sort gloves. He’s got no reason to be down here either, other than the fact he knows I’m one wrong look away from throwing a punch through a locker door. Again.
“Want me to go stand guard upstairs?” he asks. “Send a coded knock if they try and push her out the fire escape?”
I grunt. “You’re not helping.”
“You sure?” Murphy says. “Could knock on the boardroom door and scream, ‘Leave Britney alone.’ Might lighten the mood.”
I shoot him a look, and he shrugs.
It’s too quiet in the building. That fake kind of quiet that means something big is happening in a room you’re not allowed into. The rest of the guys are out on the ice for a light session, and Coach Bentley’s giving me space, which I both appreciate and resent. I hate not knowing. I hate that she’s facing it without me.
Murphy leans against the wall and checks his phone. “You’re not gonna survive the wait. Want me to distract you with photos of Jacko’s dog in a tutu?”
