Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
JACKSON
Park City, Utah
I’m a hollow shell of myself when I pull open the door to the Center the following morning.
My eyes are so puffy from last night’s cry-fest that no amount of under eye concealer can make them look normal.
My wet hair is braided because I couldn’t be bothered to do anything with it after my shower.
My limbs feel like they weigh fifty pounds each, and as I walk across the empty lobby with its huge two-story windows, I’m carrying the weight of everything that I’m losing.
I came in extra early, knowing TJ would be here and hoping no one else would be yet. I find him in the weight room, exactly where I expect him to be. And as if he knew I’d be here early to see him, he’s organizing the dumbbells rather than getting his own workout in.
“Jackson Hole.” The way he says my nickname—the same way you’d greet someone in the receiving line at a funeral—sounds more like goodbye than the word itself ever could.
“I’m so sorry, TJ.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, but the words seem to stick in his throat and come out raspy.
“You gave me this job fresh out of school, before I was probably ready for it—”
“You were ready.”
“And I fucked it up. But I told you this wouldn’t work out. Back when Nate first joined the team.”
“You were successful beyond belief. And I hate what this one mistake is going to cost you.” He shakes his head the same way my father used to when I’d disappointed him. Even from his position squatting next to the row of dumbbells, he has an air of authority.
“So it’s definite, then?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe for support.
“Nothing’s definite. But Jackson—” He lets a long sigh escape his lips as he stands. “I don’t know how we could keep you on staff with those photos out there. It is a very clear violation of your contract.”
“What about Nate?” I ask. I can’t stand the thought of him losing his spot on the team because of me.
That whole strip tease during his workout was my idea, and I’m prepared to admit that if it will save his racing career.
There is still so much he can accomplish, and I want him to have that opportunity.
Even if he decides not to continue past this season, I want that to be his choice, not something forced on him because of my fuckup.
“Nate doesn’t have anything in his contract that would disqualify him from racing because of this,” TJ tells me, and I relax for the first time since walking into the Center.
“Which is why, as I’m sure you know, we called him back to Austria so he could train with the team for this weekend’s races. ”
Thankfully I’m already leaning against the doorframe, because I think that’s all that’s holding me up right now. Nate is in Austria? No phone call. No text. Nothing. He flew to Europe and didn’t even tell me?
I can hear the blood pounding in my head, but I refuse to lose my composure in front of TJ. I take a deep breath and draw on any strength I’ve got left to get me through the rest of this conversation.
I can’t force any words out, so I just nod, acting like of course I knew Nate was in Europe. Because yesterday we were making plans for the future, and less than twenty-four hours later, while my life is completely crashing down on me, he’s already left without telling me. Again.
“For now I’ve been instructed to put you on an unpaid leave,” he tells me.
“While what?”
“While they decide what to do about the situation.”
“Who has seen those pictures besides you and Matt?” I ask, wondering if there’ll be some kind of investigation. If me keeping my job hinges on anyone else seeing those photos, I’m out.
“No one that I know of. Matt sent them to me only. I haven’t shared them with anyone else.
But I had to report the fact that they exist. I’m sorry, Jackson,” he says when he sees my face fall.
“I had to. Which is when HR said to put you on administrative leave while they investigated the allegations that you’d breached your contract. ”
I’d reviewed my contract last night after Sierra left. Sure enough, there was a clause in there about not being involved in a sexual relationship with any of the athletes on the team.
“We’ve both seen the photos, TJ. We know that I’m in violation of my contract. And if an ‘investigation’ means anyone else is going to have to see those photos in order to come to the same conclusion, then I’d rather resign.”
“I hate to say this. I really wish I didn’t have to. But that might be for the best,” he says. “There’s no reason to drag it out.”
Again I nod, not trusting my voice.
“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” TJ tells me, taking the steps between us quickly and wrapping his arms around me. He rests his cheek on top of my head. “I really hate to lose you like this.”
“I did this to myself,” I mumble into the space between his pec and bicep.
“It still feels wrong to let you go,” he says.
I know that my relationship with Nate hasn’t compromised my ability to do my job, and I think TJ knows it too. But I signed a contract, and there’s nothing either of us can do to change that after the fact.
“I need to clean out my office,” I tell him. “But I’d rather not do it with an audience. Can you work with HR to see if I can come back later tonight and get my personal belongings?”
I think of how much my office has been like a home to me while I’ve worked here.
My degrees hanging on the wall, my photos, the plants Sierra has helped keep alive while I’ve traveled, the spectacular view of the mountains.
I’ll need several boxes and more than a few tears falling to pack it all up.
“Sure, I’ll let you know what they say.”
I give him one last squeeze and step back. “Thanks, TJ, for everything. I’m sorry that I messed things up so badly.”
I take two more steps backward out the door, then speed walk out of that building as quickly as I can.
I’m almost to my car when my phone rings, and I glance at the screen.
The name of Ms. Juarez’s nursing home flashes there and my stomach drops.
She never calls me, she only knows how to FaceTime me from her iPad.
Which means it’s the staff calling, and I sincerely hope it’s not bad news.
I can’t take any more of that right now.
“Hey, Jackson, it’s Patty,” my favorite nurse says with her thick southern drawl. It’s no wonder Ms. Juarez likes her the best, too—shared southern roots and all that.
“Hi. Is everything okay?” I glance at my watch. It’s just past 7:00 a.m., not a normal time for a phone call unless something’s wrong.
“No, it’s not. Jackson, I’m so sorry. She passed away overnight.
” Her words hit me right as I’m opening my car door, and I manage to slide myself into the driver’s seat so I don’t collapse right on the pavement.
“She went to sleep last night and just didn’t wake up this morning.
She passed peacefully, which is a blessing. ”
There is no blessing in her life ending, I want to scream. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” My voice cracks on the word. “I got back late last night and I was going to come visit her today.” Tears stream down my face and there’s no point in even trying to wipe them away.
“She knew you loved her very much,” Patty tells me.
But did she? Did I ever tell her? I can’t hold in the sob, it’s like my heart is breaking right in half and the sound just tears out of the gaping hole.
“She left some stuff for you,” Patty says.
“She . . . what now?”
“I think she knew her time was near,” Patty says, but how could that be? I’d just talked to her three days ago and she was as vibrant and ornery as ever. “Everything was in order. She even had an envelope sitting on her nightstand addressed to you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say when Patty quietly waits for me to respond. “I’m having a hard time processing this. I just talked to her the other day and she was fine.”
“I know she was, which is why it’s good that she was able to leave this life peacefully, without pain or prolonged suffering. Do you want to stop by and pick up her belongings?”
“Pick up her belongings?” I stutter. Nothing makes sense.
“Yes, she had you listed as her next of kin. And they haven’t taken her body away yet. I thought you might want to come down and say goodbye.”
Suddenly I’m on fire. I peel off my jacket, but my skin is burning up and I can’t breathe. My heart is beating erratically, and every beat is painful.
“Okay,” I squeak out. “I’ll be right over.”
I disconnect the call, throw my phone on the seat next to me, push my seat back as far as it will go, and tuck my head between my legs.
I’m not sure that’ll really help, but I’m also not thinking clearly in this moment.
I just know that I’ve lost my job and one of the most important people in my life—maybe even two now that Nate is gone again—in the last ten minutes. And it’s just too much.
I don’t know how long I stay there before the knock on my window has my head flying up in surprise. Sierra’s on the other side of the glass, her features arranged into a look of concern.
I roll down the window as I use the sleeve of my fleece to wipe off my face.
“They fired you?” she asks.
“No, I resigned. But that’s not what this is,” I say, gesturing to my tearstained face. “I just got a call from the nursing home. Ms. Juarez . . .” I can’t quite get the words out, and instead a sob escapes. It’s a guttural cry, the kind you have no control over.
“Oh, no,” Sierra whispers as she reaches through the window and squeezes my shoulder. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” I tell her. “I have to go over there. She had me listed as her closest relative, so . . . I don’t even know what that means.”
“Okay, I’m going to put in for a personal day and I’ll go with you. Give me five minutes to get to my office and grab a few things. I’ll be right back.”
“Sierra, you don’t have to do this.”
“Like I’d let you drive anywhere right now.” She smiles as she squeezes my shoulder one more time before stepping away. “I’ll be right back.”