Chapters (48)
- Cover
- PRAISE FOR ALEXA MARTIN’S PLAYBOOK SERIES
- Titles by Alexa Martin
- Dedication
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Epilogue
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“Yes sir, I am.” I set the newspaper back on his desk, careful not to disturb the rest of the mess cluttering the surface. “We sent out a statement this morning that has gone over pretty well. It was vague, but we were waiting to hear the response from the public before releasing anything else.” I pause to see if Mr. Mahler would like to interject, but when he just takes a sip out of the crystal glass, I carry on. “We want to make sure our message doesn’t get twisted. The only thing worse than saying nothing is saying everything. We want to make sure we have a direction when we speak so that the public doesn’t feel like we are just saying what they want to hear.”
“Hmmm.” He pulls from his cigar again, his eyes, which match the amber liquid he’s sipping, narrowing as he assesses me. I hold his eye contact and refuse to cower under his gaze. “You are so young, I wasn’t sure you could handle the job. But you’re very articulate. I’m impressed.”
Well, that’s a backhanded compliment if I’ve ever heard one. But, it is still a compliment. And considering my last interaction with Mr. Mahler, it does for me what the liquor he’s sipping does for him. Warmth flows through my system and the tension I woke up with finally begins to dissipate.
“Now here is the problem as I see it.” He sets down the glass and his cigar and steeples his fingers in front of his face. “We can put out as many statements as we want. We can listen to the public and try to take a stance that keeps their anger in check, but nothing is going to change if every time we get them settled down, Quinton steps back on the field covering logos and kneeling during the anthem.”
This is the problem that’s been haunting me since I saw Quinton walk out of the tunnel yesterday. How do I support his message, but also the organization I’m paid to represent? “We can only say so much if the entire organization isn’t on the same page, and that includes Mr. Howard.”
“Exactly.” He smiles wide. His bright white teeth are on full display and instead of feeling reassured, a spiral of unease blooms in my gut. “That is why I’m assigning you to Quinton.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Until that moment I had all of my emotions in check, but there’s no masking the panic lacing my words.