Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Chelsea
Nerves fluttering in my chest, I approached the general manager’s office. His personal assistant sat at the desk in front of his doorway.
“Mr Fergus asked to see me,” I said.
“Of course.” She smiled warmly. I bet she did to everyone. Even those about to be fired. “Go right on in, he’s expecting you.” She jerked her head in the direction of the ajar door.
“Thank you.” I stepped over and knocked before placing my palm on the door and pushing it open further.
The GM sat beside his desk, his phone to his ear. He waved for me to come inside and sit in the seat opposite him.
“I totally agree,” he said to whoever he was talking to. “That wasn’t something we expected… I realise that, but we’ll be better prepared the next time.” He was silent for a moment before chuckling. “There’s always a next time. None of us are in any doubt… Exactly.” He chuckled again. “Okay, I have to go. Tell Bob to pull his head in. Yeah, you too.”
He ended the call and placed the phone down on his desk.
“You wanted to see me?” I said, trying like hell to keep my nerves from showing.
Bruce Fergus was in his fifties, his hair streaked with grey, particularly around his temples. He was an undeniably attractive man who used to play rugby himself. As far as I could tell, he seemed committed to the sport in general, and the Smashers in particular. The guys respected him, which might be the only thing they all had in common.
“Yes, I did,” he said. He leaned forward, his elbows on the top of the desk. “Doctor Stuart speaks highly of you. It’s his opinion that I owe you an interview for a position with the team.”
“I’m sure you don’t owe me anything,” I said carefully. “But I’d appreciate the opportunity.”
He sat back and crossed his arms. “That’s true, I don’t, but I respect the opinion of Doctor Stuart. What do you think you can bring to the team that another doctor can’t, Doctor Miller?”
Apparently we were going straight into interview mode. I would have liked time to prepare, but this was my chance to demonstrate my ability to think on my feet.
“Commitment,” I said firmly. “I understand the ins and outs of the team and what the job entails. I’m ready to be on call all day, every day, and all night. I’m ready to undertake any and all training to increase my knowledge and qualifications.”
“Hmmm, that’s a very ‘interview candidate’ answer,” Bruce said. “What do you, as a person, hope to give to the team?”
“If you don’t mind me being honest, sir, I love the Smashers. I love everything about them. I love the game, I love their commitment to it. I love Dusk Bay. The first time I ever saw a game of rugby, I knew what I wanted to do with my life. This is it. Working with this team.”
“And if you don’t get that opportunity?” His expression gave away nothing.
“Then I’ll work somewhere else and wait for another position to open up,” I said. “And I’ll apply again and again until you hire me.”
“And if I never do?” he shot back.
“You have to retire eventually,” I said, not blinking.
He chuckled. “That’s true. I admire your tenacity.”
“It’s taken me this far,” I said. “This practical placement has been incredible. For me, it’s confirmed this is what I’m meant to be doing. From the moment I walked through the door, I felt like I belonged here.”
“This place has a way of doing that to you.” He seemed to be thinking back to the first time he stepped foot in the stadium.
“It does,” I agreed. “If you don’t mind me saying, I think the team deserves people who are ready and willing to give them their all.”
“And you think that’s you?” he asked.
“Yes, I do,” I said. “One hundred percent.” I paused for a moment. “No, I don’t think it’s me, I know it’s me.” Storm’s cockiness must be rubbing off on me. Did Bruce know about my relationship with the guys?
He’d be one hell of a poker player, because I had no idea what he was thinking. He could be humouring me, and he could be genuinely interested in what I had to say. Either way, it was making me increasingly nervous.
“No wonder Doctor Stuart likes you,” Bruce said. He didn’t elaborate on that. “You have final exams to sit?”
“Next week,” I said. “After that, I’ll be ready. I can start full-time on Monday week.”
“You don’t want a break before jumping into working full-time?” he asked.
“The season starts right after,” I said. “I accelerated my degree to do this final component over the Christmas trimester. I wanted to time it so I was ready in time.”
“That’s some foresight,” he said.
“When you want something, you have to do what you have to do to make it happen,” I said. “I’m sure you know that. Having played rugby at a professional level, you would have made sacrifices to get there. It would have been worth it when you made the winning try in the grand final and held up that cup. Before doing a shoey.”
I’d taken the time to research him, including watching a video of him drinking champagne out of his football boot. A strange, but proud Australian tradition.
He chuckled again. “Best moment of my life. The win, not so much the shoey. That tasted as good as it sounds.” He grimaced, but his face relaxed into a smile.
I grinned. “I bet it did.” It must have been full of all sorts of sweat and germs. As long as no one asked me to do it, I wouldn’t judge them too harshly.
“Maybe we should make that a requirement of all our employees,” he mused out loud. “One shoey each.”
“I have a funny feeling there are laws against making staff do that,” I said lightly. “But if it’s a team spirit thing, you might get a few takers.”
“But not you?” he asked.
In my life, I’d had a variety of things in my mouth, but I still wasn’t interested in this. I held up my foot so he could see my leather sandals. “I don’t think they’d survive the experience, even if they’d hold liquid.”
“Point taken.” He lowered his arms and sat forward again. “How would you describe yourself, Doctor Miller?”
“Firstly, I’d suggest you call me Chelsea,” I said. “I’m not big on formality. Sir.”
He gestured for me to continue.
“I’d describe myself as driven,” I said slowly. “Committed. Dedicated. I tend to jump into things with both feet and throw everything into it. Everything I do, I give it all I have.”
“That seems to be a personality trait for doctors,” he said. “What makes you different from the others?”
The others aren’t fucking half the team, I thought.
At least, as far as I knew, they weren’t. Admittedly, I wasn’t privy to what the other players did in their spare time, much less any other candidates for this job. They could be banging like rabbits for all I knew.
“I’m not looking at this opportunity as a stepping stone,” I continued. “I’m not looking to work here then eventually move to one of the teams in Europe. My goal is to take over for Doctor Stuart some day. I know some people would say that’s shortsighted. That I lack ambition. I disagree. Working for the Smashers would be a privilege. One I’d wholeheartedly embrace. I believe continuity of care is important, and that goes beyond the players’ current situation. If they move into coaching, management or move away from the game entirely, they could look forward to knowing someone is watching out for all their medical needs.”
“If one of those teams from Europe was to offer you a substantial pay raise to move there, what would you do?” he asked.
“I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t consider it,” I said. “I mean, you did say substantial . At the end of the day, I don’t see myself working anywhere but here. It’s about more than money, you know? I think it’s important for people to love what they do, and I’ve loved every moment of being here. It’s not just a job for me. It’s a passion.”
“I can see that,” he said approvingly. “What are you going to do if you end up working with someone who doesn’t agree with you? Someone whom, for whatever reason, you don’t get along with?”
That was a loaded question. Did he know about Storm and Atlas not getting along? Locker room disagreements were nothing new in any sport, much less this one.
I decided it was a generic question and cleared my throat to respond.
“I’ll continue to do my job,” I said. “We can’t always like who we work with.” Now I was thinking about Ivy and her snarky comments. I regretted her death, even though there was nothing I could have done to change what happened. If we’d been friends, she might still have ended up with Frost’s hands wrapped around her throat. She would have been just as dead.
“As long as everyone can be respectful, I don’t see why it needs to impact our work, or the team.”
“What if they’re not respectful?” he asked. “What if they’re just those people who refuse to go along with you, and insist on doing things their way?”
“Then I’ll look at their way and see if it’s better,” I said. “It might be a good opportunity for me to learn a different way of doing things.”
“And if it isn’t?” he asked. “If you can’t resolve your differences and work together, then what will you do?”
“Then I follow team protocol,” I said. “I’m sure there are processes for people to come together to find middle-ground. But that would be a last resort.”
“Why is that?” he asked. “Why not do what you can to clear up any problems before they become bigger problems?”
Because snitches get stitches? I thought.
“Because I suspect you have better things to do than mediate between two responsible adults,” I said. “Anyone who works here should have the same agenda: what’s best for the team. As long as we both want that, there’s no reason we can’t find common ground.”
He nodded. He seemed to like that answer. Or at least, he wasn’t dismissing it out of hand. That had to be a good thing, right? I was sure he wouldn’t have preferred I say I’d go running to him every time I had a problem with a co-worker. No boss wanted that, did they? Divina certainly wouldn’t. She’d make sure staff didn’t work at the same time, if she could. Otherwise, she’d expect them to suck it up and move on.
“All right, Doctor— Chelsea. Thank you very much for coming to see me.” He stood and offered me his hand. “I’ll be in touch. Or my assistant will.”
I shook his hand. I hadn’t expected to be hired on the spot, but I had no idea what he was thinking, or if the interview went well. I hadn’t done many, so I had nothing to compare it to. I felt like I performed well, but I could be completely wrong. Or maybe it went well, and everyone else’s went better.
Overthinking for the win.
“Thank you for your time, sir. I appreciate the opportunity, and the interview.”
He nodded his dismissal and sank back into his chair. Before he looked back down at his laptop, he said, “Call me Bruce.”
“Okay,” I said to the top of his head before stepping out of his office and away.