“Okay.” I set my glass on the table, finally understanding why Quinton feels so strongly about this. “What can we do to help?”

Bill lifts his beardless chin Quinton’s way. “Well, Quinton’s doing a lot of it. People don’t know this is a problem and because of that, the League doesn’t feel any pressure to make changes.”

Quinton is still as stoic as ever. With a stiff upper lip, he looks unbreakable, but something seems off. I know how unprofessional it is and I’ll kick myself in the ass for it later, but I reach across the distance between us, and wrap one of his fists in my hand. I can’t stand to see him fighting whatever demons he’s fighting without knowing I have his back.

Patty’s eyes follow my movement and a warm smile lights her face as she directs her attention to both of us. “With a new agreement getting ready to be worked out, all we want is a seat at the table during this negotiation.”

“But in order to get that,” Bill says, “we need Quinton to get more current players on board. I’m not sure they understand the power they wield.”

I think back to all of those angry emails I’ve received from the players union and teams around the League and I finally understand why. Right now this is a Mustangs problem, but once people realize the way these retired players are being treated, this is going to be an issue all teams are going to start facing.

“I got you,” Quinton says. “We owe this to you and I will do everything I can to get my peers on your side.”

Underneath my hand, I finally feel some of the tension fall out of Quinton’s body. It’s like as soon as he has a call to action, purpose and determination take hold and nothing can stop him.

“Wonderful!” Patty claps her hands together. “Now can I dig into this board? I’ve never seen such a beautiful spread before.”

As if I didn’t like her enough already. Boards for the win!

Thirty

I feel like I’m living a double life.

And I’m really fucking terrible at it.

At the end of every day, I take a scalding-hot shower to try to wash the grime off me. I just don’t know what to do.

Even though I want to, legally I can’t tell Quinton what I’m doing for Mahler. And I might despise the man I’m planning this event for, but I can’t help but try my hardest as I put in the work. This is still my job. And working in PR, I know there are times where I have to spin something I don’t want to. And yes, this might hurt someone I really enjoy kissing, but I can’t flush my career down the toilet over it.