29. Noah
29
NOAH
E verything was going to shit, and I had to sit here and pretend like it was just another day.
After Maddy and Anna had filed their complaints with HR, Jennifer had immediately contacted legal and together, they’d come up with a plan to remove Beckett Tate from the building as quickly and quietly as possible.
Unfortunately, that asshole had other ideas.
When presented with the NDA and the offer of two weeks’ salary plus his remaining PTO to get him out of the building—which I’d thought was way too generous—he’d torn up the agreement and stormed out to return to his desk “to get his things.” His fury at finding that he was already locked out of his computer and the network required security to intervene. Only once he was threatened with having the cops called did he finally leave.
And shit got worse from there.
I stared out my office window hoping the view might calm me as I dealt with the first and only phone interview I’d agreed to since the Beckett Tate story broke. It was with ESPN, a damage-control call my PR team thought was an appropriate stopgap before I released an official statement about Beckett’s termination. I would essentially give the reporter nothing, just canned quotes that would begin my spin while making it clear I wasn’t ignoring the controversy.
“It seems that things with your former employee Beckett Tate have gotten pretty raw,” the interviewer—a guy named Dan—was saying. “He’s not holding back on his social media accounts. Have you been keeping up with them?”
Of course I had, filtered through my PR team, but I knew how to play the game. “No, I haven’t. My focus is and always has been my clients, and my employees.”
Dan cleared his throat, like he was bracing himself for what was going to come next. “And speaking of your employees, that leads me directly into my next question. Beckett posted that you—excuse my phrasing here, this is a direct quote—you… uh… fuck your employees. He suggested that you fired one assistant without following company protocol and then quickly hired the one you’re reportedly in a relationship with. His claim is that he was fired for merely flirting with a colleague yet you’re carrying on a full relationship with a subordinate without facing any consequences at all. He believes you’re threatened by him, and that’s why his employment was terminated. How do you respond to that?”
I had to bite my tongue to keep from going into detail about what I’d seen him do in the elevator security footage and what he’d said to Maddy. Had the jackass honestly characterized that as flirting ? Give me a fucking break. But I knew I needed to take the high road, to not let myself get caught up in the bullshit mudslinging Beckett was baiting me with. Plus, legal was involved and watching everything, quietly compiling a dossier for any potential court battles. I had to play my part, not of the furious boyfriend who wanted to bash his face in, but of the concerned business owner looking out for his employees. Which was true, of course.
But man , did I want to beat Beckett senseless.
“Our company handbook very clearly outlines our policies regarding interoffice dating, as well as our stance on sexual harassment. It’s not a difficult distinction to make, at PSM or anywhere else. Relationships between two like-minded, interested parties are permitted. Unwanted sexual advances and verbal or physical harassment is not. It seems Mr. Tate had a problem understanding the difference. For legal reasons, I can’t get into the specifics right now, but we have two reported cases of harassment against him, one of which includes security camera footage to corroborate the accuser’s story.”
“Will you be releasing that footage?”
“I’m not sure,” I answered honestly.
The fact was it almost didn’t matter if we released it at this point. It felt like the damage was done, because Beckett had a big mouth and he’d been broadcasting my “assistant fucking” to anyone who’d listen. The backlash had been immediate and honestly shocking considering my industry regularly dealt with player incidents concerning drugs and sex workers. But people were willing to turn a blind eye to their favorite player in a way that they weren’t for a perceived scandal with a sports agent. Major news outlets had picked up on what Beckett was saying, and I needed to make an official statement if I hoped to stop the hemorrhaging.
Because my clients were bailing.
I’d always preached to my players that they needed to look clean above all else. That if they wanted the big money endorsement deals, they needed to rise above temptation and present a positive image. Thanks to Beckett, it now looked like I didn’t take my own advice. The perception was that I used my position to seduce underlings, and that I was jealous of men trying to do the same thing and lashed out from insecurity. It was messy and humiliating, and players were jumping ship because they said they didn’t believe I was honest about the way I did business.
It pissed me off that people I’d known for years apparently believed I was the kind of guy who would take advantage of my female employees.
My team claimed that a formal statement would help, but I had my doubts. I was furious, raw, and in disbelief that some of the guys I’d poured my heart and soul into helping believed Beckett over me.
“I promised to keep this call short, so is there anything else you’d like to add?” Dan asked.
“Expect an official statement by close of business. Thanks for your time, Dan, I appreciate it.”
I clicked the disconnect button before he had a chance to respond then tossed my phone on my desk. I’d barely seen Maddy since I arrived because I’d been holed up with my damage control team. I didn’t need her for note taking, they had their own assistant on hand who was well-versed in dealing with corporate crises. I was glad to have an excuse not to see her, because I was still smarting about what she’d done.
Not that she’d gone to HR with Anna. It made sense, and I had zero regrets about Beckett getting tossed out on his ass.
The issue was that, once again, she’d made a spur-of-the-moment decision that affected my company without talking to me first. I’d had no time to process what had happened to Anna, or plan for the best way to get rid of Beckett without giving him the leeway to create this massive scandal. Sure, legal had been a part of the termination procedure and the process had been mostly watertight, but the fact that Maddy had done it without even the courtesy of a phone call had me on edge. Anyone familiar with the way Beckett operates would’ve seen this coming and set up the proper guardrails to prevent the PR nightmare we were currently embroiled in. But no, Maddy had gone and acted without letting me be a part of the process, and now look at what we were dealing with.
I texted her to come into my office and she opened the door seconds after I pushed “send.” She was dressed in uncharacteristic black, a simple dress and heels, with her hair pulled back. Even her expression was all business.
“Hey. You okay?” she asked.
“Surviving.”
“How did the interview go?” she sat down in the chair across from me.
“Fine,” I replied, picking up my phone. “As expected, no surprises. It’ll give everyone something to chew on before we release a formal statement, which is what I wanted to talk to you about.” I paused. “I think it’s important to get buy-in from all parties when facing something this big, instead of going rogue.”
Her face went pinched for a moment and I realized the jab had landed.
“Fine, okay. Did PR weigh in?”
I nodded. “They did, but they’re leaving the exact direction and wording to me. Once we have something finalized, they’ll release it.”
“Obviously, you know how you want to address the harassment stuff, but…” she shifted in her seat. “… what about the part about us?”
“That’s exactly why you’re here. We need to discuss what you’re comfortable releasing.”
She studied me for a moment, like she was trying to read my thoughts. “I’m… I’m comfortable being honest. We’re in a consensual relationship, and there was no coercion. We’re together because we want to be.”
She said the last part in a quiet voice.
“Okay, good. That’s what I was hoping you’d say. It’ll play well that you’re adding your voice to the statement.”
She drooped a little. “Are you going to say anything about our relationship?”
“Of course. But your part of it is what matters. People will assume because of the mismatched power dynamic you didn’t have a choice.”
She let out a harsh laugh. “If they only knew how long you made me wait. All the mixed signals.”
I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to think about that period of our relationship. My
focus had to be on PSM and the crisis it was undergoing. “I’m not going to add you to the piece about harassment. That’s well covered in the handbook, I’ll just reference it in the statement.”
My phone buzzed. It was a message from Matthew Garrison, asking if we were okay. He’d known Maddy almost as long as I did at this point, and he knew what we could do as a team.
“Matthew,” I said to Maddy as I responded to his text. “At least I know he won’t leave.”
“How many have?” she asked tentatively.
“Four,” I answered as the fury inside of me kicked up again. “Callaway, Rivera, Braun, and Kamaro.”
“Derek Callaway left?” she asked in shock. “The guy who’s had three kids with three different women, one while he was married to someone else?”
“That’s the one.” I sighed, angry and exhausted all over again.
“Do you need my help writing the statement?” Maddy asked.
I shook my head. “I should be okay. I’ll get your quotes once I’ve addressed the harassment part.”
She stood up. “Do you want me to stay? Or should I wait out there?” She pointed to where her desk was, just beyond the door.
“You can head back to your desk, I’ll let you know when I’m ready for your thoughts.”
“Okay.”
I stared at the blank Word document on my laptop screen, trying to tame my anger enough to write a coherent response.
“Noah?”
Maddy had her hand on the doorknob, watching me with a nervous expression.
“What’s up?” I didn’t mean to sound impatient, but I could hear that it came out that way—and I chose not to apologize for it.
“Are we… are we okay?” she asked. “You seem mad at me.”
Was I? I certainly wasn’t happy that she was part of the reason why I was in this shitstorm. At the same time, that instinct of hers to jump in and help whenever saw someone in trouble was something I loved about her. I was feeling a complicated mix of emotions about everything, and her, but now wasn’t the time to get into it.
“We’re okay, Maddy,” I said as gently as I could manage. “I’m not so sure about my business, but hopefully this statement will help.”
She opened the door quickly. “Right, of course. I’ll leave you to it then. Let me know when you want me to read it.”
Two drafts and eight sets of eyes later, the statement was ready to hit the newswire. Maddy joined me in my office after it went out, kicking off her heels and pulling her legs under her on the couch while she scanned her phone. I stayed at my desk.
“Twitter response is fine so far,” she reported. “Lots of ‘who cares?’ which is about as good as you can get from Twitter.”
A text came through while I was scanning a think piece about workplace harassment and power dynamics by Buzzfeed News.
“Shit,” I muttered when I saw who it was from. “Kevin Ultimo is texting me. He never texts me unless he wants something.”
I knew it was bad news when I saw the word ‘contract.’
“What did he say?” Maddy asked in a nervous voice.
“He wants out,” I said in a flat voice. “He’s breaking his contract.”
Two more texts came through, but I didn’t even bother to look at them. I could almost feel what they said. The statement might have helped, but it wasn’t helping enough.
My pride and joy, the reason I got out of bed every morning, was in freefall and it seemed there was nothing I could do to stop it.