“Just me?” I squeak out, my voice deciding to take a hike.

“Just you, new girl.”

“Now?” I grab the edge of my desk as my eyes go wide and my knuckles turn white.

“Right now.”

Fuck.

Mr. Mahler is the owner of the Denver Mustangs. He sat in on my final interview and literally did not say one word to me. When he had something to say, he would write it down on the clipboard in front of him and pass it to Paul. Then, he would stare at me with an unwavering gaze as I answered. He didn’t even crack a smile. I actually went home and polished off a bottle of wine as I made cookies because I was convinced he hated me and I wouldn’t get the job.

Obviously I got the job, but I’m still not so sure Mr. Mahler doesn’t hate my guts.

I stand on shaky legs and take a deep breath. “It’s been nice working with you, Paul. Remember me when I’m gone.”

Even though I’ve only known Paul for less than a month, I feel like he was meant to be my work husband. The thought of having it annulled so soon breaks my heart a little bit.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He rolls his eyes and grabs his abandoned phone from my desk. “I never remember anyone after they’re given the axe.”

At my gasp, he dissolves into a very unprofessional fit of laughter.

Rude.

—

THE NEW HEELS I splurged on after landing my dream job drag across the carpeted floors as I make my way to hear of my untimely demise. Thank goodness I didn’t go ahead and buy the cream coat too. Even with Liv’s discount, it would’ve been an obscene amount . . . although it did totally look like one Kerry Washington wore once.

Our offices are located inside the Mustangs training facility. A perk I found to be almost as cool as the discounted game tickets.

Almost.

Now, looking at the empty practice fields through the window-lined hallways, I feel like I’m being mocked. But as Mr. Mahler’s office comes into view, a sense of peace settles over me and confidence infiltrates my veins.

I’m a woman in a man’s world. A biracial woman in a man’s world. I’ve had to work twice as hard as most people to get a foot in the door. I got this job because I was the best choice. Because I’m damn good at my job. I raise my chin and steel my spine. The statement I sent out to the media was great. It was apologetic as well as stern. It made it clear we were taking things seriously while at the same time not jumping to conclusions. It was the best anyone could’ve made of this hectic situation, and I’m sure Mr. Mahler knows it too.