44. Connor
CONNOR
TEN MINUTES EARLIER
The first two hours of the drive home fly by as I’m still high on Tolliver’s win. Eden’s win.
But with four hours still ahead of me, my right leg starts to ache, and my eyes begin to droop. I pull off to get a Red Bull and stretch for a minute.
“That’s $3.43, big man,” the attendant says when I get to the front of the checkout.
I gulp a sip and open my door. As I’m crouching down, my phone rings. Checking the caller ID, I see it’s Milo.
Huh. Better get it.
“Hi, Milo. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” His voice is clipped, and my antennae go up quickly. “Where are you?”
“I’m, uh—”
He sighs. “Never mind. I know.” He knows…what? Shit.
“Okay.” As noncommittal as I can get.
“A picture was posted on a big soccer blog of you and Eden. Have you seen it?”
Oh fuck. This is not good. “No.”
“Well, it makes certain things clear. I suggest you go look at it. I need you in my office at eight-thirty tomorrow. Can you make that work with the Waves?”
Tomorrow is Tuesday, our normal off day, so we don’t have practice. “Yes. Yes…”
“See you then.” He hangs up.
I slouch in the seat and immediately open an internet browser. It takes a few tries of creative word searches, but I eventually find the picture.
I’m holding Eden tightly, with our lips locked, as she leans against me in her gear.
The picture’s completely unambiguous.
I need to reach her…
BUZZ.
EDEN: Hi, a post went up that includes a picture of us kissing. I’ve limited the damage, but long story short, Tina saw it, and I’m going to have to tell Dad. We can talk more in the morning?
I shut my eyes. Del is going to know too? Fuck. Another relationship I might have screwed up.
I don’t want Eden to worry about that, though. He’s her dad, so whatever she decides to share with him, I’ll support. Instead, I tell her about Milo’s request.
CONNOR: I’m not going to be back until late, so I’ll call you after I meet with Milo.
EDEN: Okay, drive safe. We’ll figure it out.
CONNOR: You were incredible today. Don’t let this ruin it.
EDEN: It won’t.
CONNOR: Text me when you’re home, just so I know you’re safe.
The next morning, I walk into Milo’s office sick to my stomach.
My brain is screaming to run, lie, avoid—but I can’t do that.
I can’t do it to Milo, and I can’t do it to Grace. He’s supported me through the Waves process, made the postseason job offer. And my sister put herself out for me to be here. It’s her livelihood. Milo is her boss.
I can’t lie anymore, and I can’t hide. I’ve fucked up so bad. While Eden may be worth it, there are going to be consequences.
Because something tells me this will not go as easily with Milo as the Waves tryout situation six weeks ago.
He reinforces this as soon as I walk in. “Sit down.” Crisp, cold.
“Thanks for…meeting me.” Maybe I should have rehearsed more, but if I’m going to stop lying, to stop holding these secrets, perfecting a turn of words won’t matter.
Being contrite is my best defense. It’s easy to be genuine on that front, because it’s what I feel.
“You didn’t give me any choice.” His anger is clear, if controlled. “Care to explain what the hell you were doing in Georgia, kissing our client?”
I exhale. Just fucking tell the truth.
“We…uh, we’re together, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“How long? Did it overlap with the time before your leave of absence?”
“Yes…but only by a week.”
His face is stone. “A week?”
“Yes.”
“So when you sat in here and told me you wouldn’t keep any other secrets, you were already lying?”
Technically, he told me “no more secrets” as opposed to me making any promises, but arguing that point won’t make a difference.
“Yes.” I squeeze my lips together. Apologize Connor. “Milo, I’m so sorry. I really…I shouldn’t have held this back from you…”
“Lied.”
I relent. “Yes. I…didn’t handle it properly. I apologize.”
“The thing is, if you’d been honest from the beginning, we probably could have figured it out. Kept you out of projects for Eden. Had some kind of metaphorical wall between you and her account.”
“I screwed up…” My stomach churns as I struggle to respond.
He doesn’t wait for me, anyway. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. The integrity of the firm is essential.”
My gut is like a rock, my forehead heavy. “I understand.”
The pain on my face must be apparent because his eyes narrow, watching me for a beat, and then his demeanor softens.
“Your time at SLP is officially over. I’m rescinding your job offer for the junior associate position.” His voice is noticeably calmer, despite the harshness of his words. “I know this is not fun to hear, but it’s business, and you betrayed my trust.”
“I know.”
“I hope that you find success in the NFL, truly. No one is perfect, and if you can learn from this, you’ll be better for it.”
The evenness in his tone helps me recenter a fraction, and I remember one other dynamic to this.
“Milo, one thing. Grace, she didn’t know anything…”
His face tightens again. “Oh, I know. Grace doesn’t have the capacity to lie like this, for weeks. I suggest you talk to her before I have to update her myself. I’ll give you through tomorrow to handle that.”
“Thank you.” And after a hasty goodbye, I leave his office.