Page 46 of In The Game

“No! No, nothing like that.”How many dicks does he look at daily to make him assume this was about nudes?

He relaxes in his chair. “Okay, cool. So what’s the problem?”

“There’s messages that I supposedly sent years ago. But I never check or do anything with my DMs. Julia managed—”Holy shit.

“Who’s Julia?”

Why the fuck didn’t I connect the dots earlier?After I walked her to her car that night at the restaurant, she came onto me and tried to kiss me. Aggressively. I brought it up with the team managers the next day. I figured she’d get a slap on the wrist and wouldn’t be allowed to call me into her office anymore, but that wasn’t the case. She continued her little tirade for the next few months before they finally let her go.Was this her revenge?I didn’t realize she would get fired over it. Would she retaliate this severely?

He blinks at me, waiting for an answer. I don’t have time to explain, and I don’t want to either.

“How do I find out if there’s someone blocked on my account? Not just my Instagram, but all my socials.”

He raises his eyebrows. The kid looks at me like I’ve told him I prefer using the Pony Express to Twitter.

“Sorry, man. I know you’re probably in the middle of some stuff, but can you help me out? It’s urgent.”

He holds out his palm, and I hand over my phone.

“You need a phone upgrade,” he says, tapping around the screen. “Damn, this thing’s slow.”

“I’ll look into it.”

“Instagram, you have a Rahlee789 blocked.” Chills shoot up my spine.

“Unblock her.”

He nods and moves to the next app. “Facebook, Raleigh Dunham?”

“Unblock.”Holy fuck.

“Snapchat, RaleighNotNC.”

“Unblock.” I shake my head; I didn’t even know I had a Snapchat account.

“Twitter—”

“Unblock.”

“Nothing blocked on LinkedIn… Do you use Pinterest or TikTok?”

“Do I look like I use Pinterest or TikTok?”

He chuckles and hands my phone back. “Fair enough.”

“Thanks,” I say over my shoulder as I leave his office.

“Sure thing, Conway. Let me know when you’re ready for that upgrade!” Pretty sure he’s internally cackling at my expense.

As I walk through the Lakes offices back to the locker room, I dig through each social media app, searching for DMs sent to or received from Raleigh. There’s no sign of anything, but I’m sure any evidence was deleted long ago.

When I get back to the locker room, I grab my bag and head out. They might be deleted on my end, but maybe she still has them. Fishing my phone from my pocket, I tap her name from my Favorites menu.

“What do you want, Barrett?”

I look forward to the day when she answers my calls with a smile, rather than all the warmth of a pissed-off DMV clerk.

I push through the heavy doors to get back to my car. “I need to see you. I can’t find any DMs on my end. Are they still on your phone?”

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