Chapter Fifty-Six

They walked into the offices together just under an hour later. Raquel texted Darcy to meet her in the conference room as soon as she got in. When they arrived, Raquel was talking to a man in a dark suit.

Natalie knocked on the glass door and opened it when Raquel gestured for them to enter.

“Natalie, what a surprise. Good morning. Darcy, thanks for coming in on such short notice.” Raquel gestured to the man in the suit. “This is Hank Dunlop, our head of programming for the live sports division.”

Darcy shook his hand. “Of course, nice to meet you.”

Natalie followed suit.

Hank squinted at Natalie like he was trying to place her. “Carpenter, you just missed making the team for the Olympics, right? Lucky for you they needed someone to spar with Darcy.”

Natalie couldn’t keep from making a “what the fuck” face. She looked at Raquel. Was it possible she was invited to a meeting to get insulted?

“Why don’t we sit down,” Raquel said before Natalie had a chance to respond. Natalie took the seat farthest from Hank and Darcy sat next to her.

Hank leaned back in his chair, seemingly unaware that he’d insulted her. Unaware or unconcerned with her feelings. “Girls, we’ve been really impressed with the ratings for your little segments.”

Natalie ground her teeth together. Could this fucking guy be more patronizing?

Raquel cleared her throat. “The ratings have been better than we had hoped and the engagement has been off the charts.” Raquel’s mouth twitched at the corner, leaving Natalie to wonder if she could see that she and Darcy were no longer pretending for the cameras.

“Exactly,” Hank said. “And we want to take some of that to our hockey broadcasts.”

Natalie sat up in her chair. Darcy looked stunned.

Hank grinned. “Well, I see I have your attention. We’d like you, Darcy, to join our pregame studio for the Canada game. We think it would really appeal to our hockey fans who might not be as familiar with the women’s game.”

Darcy blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Of course, we all know your playing career speaks for itself, but we think having you in the studio might bring some of our men’s hockey fans to the broadcast. If we can’t have the man himself, we think they’ll be interested in seeing Marty LaCroix’s daughter.”

Darcy looked like a deer in the headlights. Natalie bumped her under the table with her knee.

Raquel cut in. “What Hank’s trying to say is you’re a huge name in women’s hockey and would be an asset in the studio for the Canada game. Who better to talk about the Canadian’s women’s team than one of its biggest stars?”

“Who are they playing?” Natalie asked. She was sure she knew the answer.

Hank smiled. “The next game is the marquee matchup with the U.S. team. Your old team.”

She knew how she would handle this kind of fuckery on the ice. She’d start with the butt end of her stick to his stomach, a quick chop of the stick on the top of his foot, and if all of that didn’t work, she’d find a way to deck him behind the ref’s back. Too bad the ref, Raquel, was sitting right there, staring at her.

She swallowed. “So, you want us in the studio together, talking about our old teams?”

Hank looked at Raquel, who shuffled the papers in front of her.

“Actually, Natalie, Hank is only looking for Darcy to join the team they already have.” She gave a tight smile. At least she knew this sucked.

“Right,” Hank jumped in. “LaCroix is a household name, even in the United States. We’d be stupid to pass up the chance to have her join the team.” He smiled at her like she was five years old.

Natalie’s face flamed with embarrassment. They didn’t want her. They took a look at what she and Darcy did as a team and decided she was expendable. Her ears started ringing. Hank’s mouth was still moving but she couldn’t hear anything he was saying. It was like shame at being left off the team, again, had blocked all sound from reaching her ears.

Darcy’s hand found Natalie’s leg under the table. She squeezed. “I don’t understand. You said you liked our segments, which we do together, but you only want me for the studio?”

Hank nodded. “You two are funny and your little segments are cute, but that’s not our style in-studio. We offer a more serious look for our fans. They want to know what to expect, the players to watch, that kind of thing. We want you to provide commentary before the game, not make the audience laugh by falling on your asses.”

Natalie pushed her chair back from the table, but Darcy clamped her fingers around her thigh.

Hank narrowed his eyes at Natalie. “No offense, Natalie. We just don’t think you bring what we need to the table. I’m sure you understand.”

Unbelievable. She looked at Darcy, hoping to see anger in her eyes. Instead, Darcy was looking at Raquel and Hank.

Natalie stood up, aware that she was rapidly losing her shit and wanting to leave before she screamed at someone with the power to fire her ass. “I understand that despite saying you think our segments have been such a success you want to hire her because of her last name.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“She’s right. We’re a team. Whatever it was you saw on the screen that you liked so much, and the engagement Raquel mentioned, that’s because we’re a team.”

Raquel ran a hand through her hair. “Darcy, you’ve been begging me for three years to get you on the hockey broadcast. This is your shot.”

Darcy looked up at Natalie, her eyes pleading. For what? For Natalie to give her blessing to do this thing without her? To toss her aside for her own opportunity? Jesus Christ.

Natalie took a step toward the door. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you need me here for this.”

“Natalie,” Darcy said, her voice low and pleading.

Natalie turned, a grim smile on her face masking the seething shame-injected anger burning in her chest. “It’s fine, Darcy. It’s your dream. Good luck.” She yanked the door open and strode off down the hallway, refusing to let her anger turn into tears. Not in front of that jackass, Hank, or even Raquel.

As she walked toward the bathroom, she kept hoping to hear footsteps behind her. But when she reached the bathroom, she ventured a glance back toward the conference room. Darcy was still seated, talking to Hank and Raquel. She hadn’t followed her. From the looks of it, she hadn’t even paused a moment before diving into planning for her big debut.

Not good enough for another team. Not important enough for Darcy to fight for. Natalie leaned against the sink and stared into the mirror. What the fuck was she doing here? This job? Darcy?

Of course, it stung that they didn’t want her for the job and that they insulted Darcy by picking her because of her last name, her famous father. But worse than those insults was the fact that Darcy hardly fought for her at all. She got what she wanted and set Natalie aside.

Natalie blinked and tears fell into the sink. What was it about her that made her so easy to discard? Were her expectations too high? No. This was why she kept people away. So they couldn’t hurt her, disappoint her.

The door to the bathroom creaked open. Natalie cupped her hands under the water and splashed her face quickly.

She didn’t have control over much, but they weren’t going to see her cry.