Chapter 1 #2
Lucia felt eyes following her everywhere she went, from the streets of Richmond, to the training facility, and into her office.
It made her skin crawl. Those who were brave enough came up to her and apologized, which only made her feel worse.
All it did was remind her of the fact that the affair and inevitable breakup were entirely public knowledge.
She’d never minded being in the spotlight, but to be humiliated so publicly felt like more of a violation than usual.
Her phone buzzed for the fifteenth time in five minutes—whether from Max trying to get her to come home and listen to his thousands of excuses, or from journalists hunting her down for an exclusive, she couldn’t be sure.
If she caught one more sympathetic glance, she was going to take a baseball bat to the glass-encased trophies and accolades of the Vipers franchise.
Or not.
But the thought of it was certainly cathartic.
Apparently, spending the night on Isa’s couch had imbued her with the same vicious fantasies of retribution as her closest friend. Maybe she’d have to crank up that rock playlist Abby had created.
The intact (for now) glass reflected the now-perpetual crease between her brows.
She grimaced at the shortness of the skirt she’d borrowed from Isa, and the woman before her grimaced right back.
Charlotte was very forgiving, and Lucia hoped she could look past this transgression just this once.
Just while she figured out how best to pack up her entire life during Thursday practice.
All she wanted was to get back to her work. She wanted to disappear for the next fifteen hours, crunching numbers and watching film in her not-so-spacious office. Instead, her brain kept getting sidetracked by the whispers, louder than if her colleagues had been speaking directly into her ear.
She’d hoped to find solace in Charlotte’s office, but the door had been closed.
It was a sure sign John, the general manager, had something important he needed one of the analysts to work on as soon as inhumanly possible.
She hoped the task would be assigned to her so she could finally pay attention to the voice in her head telling her to put her headphones on and stop listening to the unending gossip that threatened to swallow her whole.
She’d been right. When the door opened, John gave her the smallest of nods.
“Lucia.” He pronounced her name wrong, the c of her name coming out like an s rather than a ch, but she couldn’t complain since she hadn’t even expected him to know her name at all.
Before she could process that fact, he’d disappeared down the hall, no doubt headed to the beautiful penthouse office he spent most of his time in.
Charlotte stopped at the doorway, a momentary panic sweeping across her face. She waved a frowning Lucia in.
“Good morning, Lucia.” Charlotte closed the door gently behind her, Lucia’s frown becoming more pronounced.
This was new. Charlotte never had closed-door meetings with the analysts, besides for their annual reviews. Bile rose hot and fast in Lucia’s throat, her body already beginning to decipher the look on her boss’s face.
“Have a seat, please.”
“Uh, why are you being so formal? Are you…” Lucia let out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you firing me?”
She’d meant it as a joke, but Charlotte’s silence was answer enough. Lucia lurched toward the trash can beside her boss’s desk and heaved. The fact that she’d hardly eaten anything that morning was clear as Charlotte ran over to hold her hair and rub her back, making soothing noises.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” When she noticed Lucia was no longer heaving but also not moving from the trash, she grabbed a water bottle from her mini fridge and forced it into Lucia’s hand. “Drink this and sit, please. I promise it’s not all bad news.”
When Lucia felt more stable, she followed Charlotte’s directions and sat, refusing to make eye contact. Charlotte clicked her mouse a few times and then clasped her hands together, laying them on her large, walnut desk.
“As you saw, John was just talking my ear off. He was telling me that he believes your…situation, for lack of a better word, might cause issues with his—”
“Is this about Max?”
“Star quarterback.”
“You can’t be serious. Max cheats on me, and I get punished?”
It was so like this profession to penalize the woman in this situation. Why should her personal life have had any bearing on her career? Especially when said personal life involved her being a victim?
At least the apologetic look Charlotte gave her was sincere.
“I’m so sorry, Lucia. You know you’re my best analyst by far.
Hell, with your qualifications, you should be my boss.
But unfortunately, my hands are tied. I tried to convince him that you’d be mature about”—she waved her hand—“everything. But he was firm.”
Tears were welling in Lucia’s eyes, and she wasn’t sure she could keep them from falling.
How was this fair? She hadn’t done anything wrong.
She was a hard worker. She’d put in more hours than any of the other analysts, and, as Charlotte had said, she was one of the strongest analysts in the franchise. Maybe even the league.
“This job is—you have to understand, it’s all I have right now. I—I don’t know what I’d do without it.” Her pride was fighting a losing battle against blubbering, and she thought about dropping to her knees and begging.
“He’s very insistent that Max Clark remains at peak performance. But I thought this might happen, so I put out some feelers yesterday when I saw the news.” She paused, something dawning on her face. “I’m sorry, by the way. I haven’t said that yet, but I was so very sorry to see…that.”
Charlotte’s figure doubled in Lucia’s eyes as the tears bubbled over. Charlotte handed her a tissue before turning her monitor to face Lucia.
“Like I said, I put out some feelers. I thought John might pull something like this. Clark is his everything and can do no wrong. But you’re very highly sought after, too.
And while most teams don’t have the bandwidth or budget, they’re all well aware that you developed GameFlow Analytics and are falling all over themselves to move money around. ”
Lucia let out a pathetic sniffle, wiping her eyes angrily. She hated looking weak. One more reason for her to hate Max.
GameFlow Analytics was a software she’d begun developing in her senior year of college, though it hadn’t been complete until right before she’d joined the Vipers.
She’d patented the software which, at its most basic level, integrated live game data and used machine learning to offer recommendations in real-time.
Selling it to the league had skyrocketed her stock in the analytics market greatly.
During the three years she and Max had spent apart between college and her move to Richmond, she’d been bouncing from team to team, doing general analytics and starting her career with team quarterbacks.
When she’d finally gotten the kinks out of GameFlow Analytics, she’d breathed a sigh of relief, because she knew it meant she’d have a higher chance of getting a job in Virginia with Max.
After the sale, she’d had offers from all over the country but had chosen to go to the Vipers. For the prick.
“At the moment, only the Sabertooths have been able to find money to take you on, and they’re offering quite a raise if you join them.
You’d be doing general analytics, just like here, and they’d also like you to continue working on your quarterback software while you assist their quarterback.
Apparently, despite their championship win last year, he’s been struggling through preseason. ”
It only took Lucia a moment to remember the arrogant asshole at the helm of the Charleston Sabertooths. Her whole body went rigid. “Not Colton Beaumont. Tell me it’s not Colton fucking Beaumont.”
Charlotte turned the monitor back, seeming to realize Lucia was uninterested in looking at the email on the screen.
“It’s either you take the Sabers up on their offer today before I can formally fire you, and you can say you resigned for a better position”—Charlotte grimaced, apologetic— “or I’m forced to fire you, and the offer potentially comes off the table. ”
Lucia would have almost rather been fired. Almost.
Max may have stripped her of her pride, but he wouldn’t take away everything that she’d worked so hard for. She would take the job, even if it meant helping someone she detested.