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Chapters (48)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR ALEXA MARTIN’S PLAYBOOK SERIES
  3. Titles by Alexa Martin
  4. Dedication
  5. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  6. Prologue
  7. One
  8. Two
  9. Three
  10. Four
  11. Five
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Seventeen
  24. Eighteen
  25. Nineteen
  26. Twenty
  27. Twenty-one
  28. Twenty-two
  29. Twenty-three
  30. Twenty-four
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. Thirty-four
  41. Thirty-five
  42. Thirty-six
  43. Thirty-seven
  44. Thirty-eight
  45. Epilogue
  46. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  47. About the Author
  48. What’s next onyour reading list?

My dad raised me with the mentality to be color-blind. I try to live my life like that. I don’t know what Quinton has experienced. I see the struggles Black men in this country face and I’m not so “naive” to think racism isn’t a huge problem. But I’m not okay with him projecting his problems onto me. I’ve had enough people question my validity as a biracial woman—and where they think I belong in this world—that I can’t bite my tongue any longer.

“What’s your problem? Seriously, there’s something wrong with you. I’ve been working with you for two weeks. In that time, name one moment where you’ve felt I’m not qualified to be here. You can’t. Because I’m damn good at my job.” I shove my computer in my bag and start walking to the door before I spin back around. “No! I’m not done here. You’ve made your stance clear. You have a problem with racism and mistreatment in the League. Everyone should! But did you ever consider that by implying I got my job solely because of my skin color, and not because I’ve worked my entire life for it, you’re creating problems too? Yes, I’m Black. And I’m white. I was raised by my white dad. I have white friends. And they’ve never insinuated anything like what just came out of your mouth. So maybe before you go throwing around insults like that, you should check your own bias first.”

And finally feeling satisfied by the look of something other than smugness on Quinton’s stupid face, I make my exit with the sinking feeling that my career is ending with the door slamming behind me.

Eight

Icy.

If there is one word that could be used to describe the state of my relationships with everyone involved with the Mustangs organization, it’s icy.

As much as I wanted to dismiss everything Quinton said as pure bullshit, I’d be lying if some of it didn’t worm its way right into my brain and feed all of my insecurities. Like the fact that Mr. Mahler didn’t even seem to like me before placing this huge task on my shoulders. Or the fact that since he assigned it, I haven’t heard a peep from him. I send him an update every Friday, but he has yet to respond to one email. I’m starting to wonder if he’s giving me enough rope to hang myself. I feel like he took the first opportunity he could find to sabotage my time here.

He set the stage so that if Quinton decides to stop taking a knee, he looks great for working things out. Or, on the flip side, say Quinton keeps kneeling and covering his logo, he can place all of the blame for the lack of progress on me.