CHAPTER 16 JOLENE

I realize much too late I didn't ask who was going to be the new Aces team correspondent, and I think it's because I can't bring myself to admit it's no longer me.

Before I head inside, I take a few deep breaths.

I need to hear Lincoln's voice. I can't fully blame him for this mess considering I'm one-half of the equation, and he's going through a hard time right now, too. The only way we'll get through it is if we're in it together.

I try calling him, but I'm diverted to voicemail.

And I know I'm diverted because usually it rings six times before voicemail picks up. Today it was two, and somehow that just sets off my anger even more.

He's avoiding me and I lost my job. Can this day get any worse?

Well, don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, because apparently the answer to that is yes.

When I head inside, nobody will make eye contact with me, and when I get to Marcus's office, I find none other than fucking Ryan Rivera sitting behind his desk.

I storm past the office and right up to human resources. "Peggy?" I ask, my voice sweet as sugar. "Mr. Rivera hasn't vacated Mr. Dean's office and I'm supposed to be playing Marcus while he's out. Given the sensitive situation between us, can someone from human resources talk with him please?"

She presses her lips together and nods. "I'll send Paul right down."

"Thanks so much."

I wait until she calls Paul and explains the situation, and I wait even longer until he takes the elevator down to the first floor where the sports division is located. I wait until he returns, and he pauses when he sees me.

"Mr. Rivera has vacated the office, Ms. Bailey. You're free to head down," he says.

"Thank you." I offer a friendly nod and head down, and I know it's like I basically told on Rivera, but fuck him. This is all his fault, anyway.

I close the office door so I don't have to face anyone, but the outside of the office is all windows and there aren't any blinds, so I get the pleasure of watching everyone walk by with heads down since nobody wants to confront me today.

I don't know if I've ever felt so alone.

I think about calling my mom to tell her what's going on, but nope…she's mad I chose Lincoln and I haven't spoken to her in days.

Lincoln hasn't picked up or called me since we fought about his brother, and I think Sam is mad at me for suggesting she come clean with Devin about her feelings.

I feel like I'm backed into a corner, and I'm scared what the outcome will be if I don't find an outlet soon.

And no sooner does that thought cross my mind when an email comes through—a forward from Marcus to the entire sports team.

It's a press release. I read the words across the top.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

The Vegas Aces' spokesperson's contact information comes next, and then I read the headline.

Aces Tight End Asher Nash Suspended for Rest of Season following Gambling Violation.

Holy. Shit.

He came clean.

And I find out not from the team coach who I urged to tell the truth…but from a press release?

A fucking press release?

I just lost my job because I'm seeing the coach and he can't give me the courtesy of telling me first?

Wow.

Even as I have the thought, a tiny, apparently rational part of my brain argues that I don't deserve the exclusive on that, and I'm no longer the team correspondent anyway. It's team policy to issue a press release for something like this, but it still manages to cut to the quick.

I try calling him again, but he doesn't answer, and then I call Marcus.

"Hi Jolene," he answers.

I don't bother with a greeting. "Who did you put in as the new team correspondent?" I demand.

"Sanders."

"Sanders?" I repeat. Fucking Sanders?

At least it's not Rivera. I try to remind myself of that fact.

"Sanders," he confirms. "I'm working as fast as I can to get my mother moved so I can come back to the station, Jolene. Please keep your temper in check until I return, and stay away from stories that Sanders is now to cover. Understand?"

I blow out a breath. "This is bullshit, Marcus."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but you've left me no choice. You're getting emotional about a story, and that's the very reason why I had to remove you from the assignment. Is there anything else?" he asks.

"No," I mumble.

He's right. I am getting emotional about this because this is so much more to me than just being reassigned.

I head home, and I just barely beat the boys back. Sam is sulking on the couch when I walk in, and she barely makes eye contact with me.

"Are you mad at me?" I ask.

She sits up and clicks off the television. She shakes her head. "No. I'm mad at myself for listening to you and Lincoln, and Cade is getting teased because of my involvement in the whole scandal, and it's just a mess. I'm not mad at you. I'm just kinda…mad at the world right now, I guess."

I collapse on the couch next to her. "You and me both."

"How was work?"

"Awful. I was reassigned." I put air quotes around the terrible word.

"Meaning?"

"Marcus took me off the Aces and put me back on sports beat, mostly covering women's sports since there's less of a chance I'll end up with a player or coach over there," I say.

"Whoa. Were those his words?"

"Of course not. But the innuendo is sure the hell there."

She reaches over and slings an arm around me for a side hug. "I'm so sorry, babe. I know how hard you worked for the job."

"Then Lincoln Fucking Nash comes along and ruins everything," I mutter.

"Whoa," she says again. "Where's that coming from?"

"If anyone, and I mean anyone, else had gotten that position, I wouldn't be in this mess."

"You know what?" she asks, thinking it over. "Neither would I. Fuck that Nash guy."

"Yeah, fuck him," I say, and we both burst into giggles because it sort of feels like we're down at that rock bottom point where all we can do is laugh our way out of it.

"What are you really going to do?" she asks.

"I don't know. You?"

"I don't know," she echoes.

"Men suck. Let's take the boys out to dinner and put the focus elsewhere."

"Great idea," she says. "Where?"

"Gridiron?" I say a little hopefully, and of course she reads between the lines to see that I only want to go there because I have a better shot of catching a glimpse of Lincoln from there than I do from most anywhere else.

"Fine," she says, rolling her eyes. "But only because they have the best wings in Nevada."

I laugh as the front door opens, and both boys are subdued.

"You two okay?" I ask as Sam and I stand from the couch to greet our boys with hugs.

"Fine," they both mutter at the same time.

Sam and I glance at each other, and she nods.

"You two want to go out to dinner?" I ask, excitement in my tone.

They glance at each other and shrug. "Nah," Cade says.

"Whoa," Sam says, and we're both confused but neither boy is talking. "Hey, how was the science project?"

"Fine," the both say at the same time.

"Okay," I say. "All right. Spill it, boys. What's going on with you two?"

Cade looks at Jonah and widens his eyes as if to tell him to stay quiet, but Jonah starts talking.

"Kids were teasing us today about what's been going on. They said our moms are both liars and that means we must be liars too." His eyes are turned down to the ground as he confesses.

"Oh, honey," I say, and I kneel down and wrap my arms around him as Sam does the same to her son. "None of us are liars, and sometimes kids say things when they really don't understand the whole story."

"I know, but they don't believe me when I tell them the truth. They just believe what their parents repeated." Jonah starts to cry, but Cade remains stoic and quiet.

"I'm so sorry you're having to deal with this," I murmur, and the hate I feel for Rivera rises a few levels as I think about how this isn't affecting just me or just Lincoln. There's a whole network of people he hurt because he was trying to get ahead, and it's such utter bullshit that he wasn't fired on the spot. I'm sorry all of us are dealing with this, but I can't pretend like I didn't make some mistakes along the way, too. "We'll get through it, okay?" I rub his back and he sniffles and nods.

"Who wants ice cream?" Sam asks brightly, and both boys seem to perk up a little at that.

She makes them sundaes while I clean out their backpacks, and we even get them to crack smiles by the time they're done eating them.

I covertly check my phone to see if Lincoln has tried to get it touch, but it's still nothing, and now I'm starting to get worried.

So eventually I text him.

Me: Are you okay? Are we okay?

And then I wait.