Chapter 45 Finley
Finley
“Thanks for coming in today, Finley,” White says from across the conference table.
Eli, the head of HR, is sitting at the top of the table, the only other person in the room.
“After a thorough investigation,” White starts, and I force my expression into neutrality as I listen to him say the words from the HR script. This is it. This is the end of my career.
The hollow ache in my chest may never go away, but after spending two weeks at a cabin in the woods doing nothing but hiking and putting together puzzles, I’ve accepted my fate.
White continues, “And in light of new information, we found that you violated clause 4.2 in the Yeti handbook, by engaging in a romantic or sexual relationship with a player.”
I swallow hard. I knew it was coming, but hearing it from the mouth of a person I have so much respect for burns.
White’s gaze flashes to mine briefly before going back to the paper in front of him.
This is the harsh reality of a termination—it has to be by the book.
“There is no way around the fact that you engaged in a relationship with someone with whom you had power over. The investigation, however, showed that the relationship had no impact on playing time or roster decisions, specifically since the player was on IR and not participating in games during the time of the relationship. There is no evidence of favoritism or harm to the team.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, looking between the two men, when he stops reading.
Eli takes a deep breath. “I want to be very clear: what you did was a violation of policy, and we are in no way condoning your actions. However, because the relationship did not compromise competitive integrity or workplace authority, we have decided not to enact the recommended punishment of termination. Instead, you will have a formal, written reprimand in your personnel file. You will have four weeks’ unpaid suspension.
As a condition of your return, you will have completed mandatory ethics retraining.
You are on probation for the next twelve months. ”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“I’m… not fired?” I ask.
White shakes his head. “No. But you are in very big trouble, Coach Blake, and on very thin ice.”
“Of course, sir,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek.
“Oh, and you, Mr. Kane, and anyone else either of you has told about this will be expected to sign NDAs. You will make no public statements about your administrative leave or your suspension.”
I rub the area just below my collarbone. The public speculation has to be out of control by now. A suspension will only make it worse.
As excited as I am to still have the job of my dreams, I don’t know what to do with the fact I’ve lost the trust of everyone here.
We wrap up the meeting, signing documents and going through all the terms of my suspension. Finally, Eli says we’re done with everything and leaves me alone with White.
“I am sorry,” I apologize, hoping he understands just how much I mean it.
He nods, but I can tell from the look on his face how disappointed in me he is.
“I know. Unfortunately, it takes a long time to earn back trust after something like this. We’ll get there—we all will—but it’s going to take some work.
But no one can question whether you really believe in a culture of accountability now.
Most people would’ve just hidden this under the rug.
“I know.” My gaze locks on his. “I know.”
As I start to leave, something White said at the beginning of the conversation flits back into my awareness. “What was the new information?” I ask, turning back to White.
“What?”
“At the beginning of the meeting, you said in light of new information. What was it?”
Uncertainty flickers behind his eyes. “Kane retired.”
“What?” My heart drops to my toes. “No. You told him no, right?”
White shrugs. “I told him it might be for nothing. That it would in no way guarantee you wouldn’t be fired. He knew,” White says, standing from his chair. “I told him not to. He said it wasn’t about this.”
“What was it about, then?” I ask.
White stops next to me. “You’ll have to ask him that. And now that it’s not a fucking dumb mistake for you to be with him, I can tell you: I hope it works out for you two.”
“I—Thank you. We’re not still together, though.”
White nods. “I know. We also confirmed that. Trust me. We looked into everything. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a shitstorm to clean up, and I just lost my head coach for the next four weeks.”
I walk out of the meeting in a daze. Beckett retired.
Even though they told him it wouldn’t save my job.
It’s enough to keep me from focusing on anything as I walk home: the sidewalk twisting by in a blur of sunshine and dogs on leashes.
I know I should turn do-not-disturb off my phone and start interacting with the real world again, but I’m not ready yet.
I’ve talked to Charlotte, but she’s been annoyingly optimistic about the whole thing, and positive thinking was not the point of my time in the cabin.
The separation from my daily life was to come to terms with the fact that the life I thought I was going to live was gone.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t mope. I walked. And I planned. And I did puzzles.
And maybe Charlotte was right. It didn’t end up as bad as I thought.
My dad, well, I’ve avoided him like the plague.
Though there were a few nights in the cabin when I would spiral and listen to the voicemail he left, in which he calmly walked me through all the reasons I’d ruined my entire life with one mistake.
He doesn’t know what the mistake was, but it doesn’t matter.
Gray concrete shifts to the tiled floor of my apartment building, as I mentally shove my dad out of my mind.
I did make a mistake—and a really fucking big one—but no one is perfect all the time. Not even me. No matter how hard I try.
“Hey,” a deep voice says from down the hall, pulling me from the recesses of my mind.
“Kane.” My eyes meet his. I want to run and jump into his arms. To beg him to forgive me. I was never supposed to sacrifice him.
The sight of him standing in his doorway, a black T-shirt pulling across his chest, is like a balm on my burning soul. My gaze tracks his Adam’s apple as he swallows hard.
“Did it… Are you still… What happened?” he asks. His hands twitch by his side, curling into fists.
And I wonder whether it’s a reflection of the same tension running through me. The one that desperately wants me to run to him. The same one that’s holding me back.
Not sure how to bypass the cracked earth that’s spread wide between us.
“Fin?” he asks.
“I’m on unpaid suspension for four weeks,” I say, the tears I’ve been holding at bay all day finding their way to my eyes.
He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. “Oh, thank God. They said it wouldn’t likely matter.”
Suddenly, I’m standing right in front of him, between our two apartments. I glare up at him, the tightness in my scowl pulling me back into my body. “You shouldn’t have done that! I was the one who crossed a line. I was the one who needed to pay for my mistake.”
I bang his chest with my fist, and it lets out just enough of the swirling desolation in my chest that I do it again. And again. And again.
My fists crash into him as the tears pour from my eyes.
When I start to slow, he wraps his arms around my back, pulling me into him.
I lean my forehead against his chest. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I love you.”
That’s not…
I mean…
Could it be…
Do I…?
Yes.
As much as I don’t want to, it’s as inevitable as the puck dropping at the beginning of a game.
I jerk my gaze to his. “You… what? You can’t.”
He engulfs my hands with his, pulling me flush against him. His lips are millimeters from mine, his breath a warm caress as he says, “In fact, I can.” He presses a light kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Which is for the best, since I do.”
I shake my head. “That’s not what I meant. You can’t retire for me.”
His thumb brushes over mine as he pulls away a little. “I didn’t. I mean, it certainly was a factor, but—” He cuts off, sighing.
“What?” My air supply is running short, as if my nervous system is suddenly unable to keep up with the roller coaster that is my day.
He steps away slightly, a hint of something like guilt flitting across his face.
“I found out right before the announcement that it was possible I wasn’t going to be able to play next season, anyway.
Or that I might seriously hurt my hip long-term if I did play.
” His thumb returns to stroking the side of mine.
“So you didn’t retire in a romantic but ultimately ridiculous attempt to save my career?” I ask, feeling like I can breathe properly since the first time I heard Kane wasn’t planning to play next season.
He shakes his head. “As much as I would love to tell you I sacrificed myself for you to have a chance at happiness, it didn’t exactly go that way.
And since I hadn’t decided what I was going to do when I heard you’d turned yourself in—something I have a lot of thoughts about, by the way—I can’t say for sure what I would’ve done. ”
The smile that breaks out across my face isn’t one I can contain. “I love you, Beckett Kane.”
His lips pull into a crooked, confused smile. “You what?”
“Love you,” I repeat. Because it’s true. Even if he’s not sure whether he’s the type of man to give up his dreams for a woman. Or maybe even more so because of that.
“How is that possibly your response to hearing I didn’t retire for you?” he asks. “Do you have a weird kink for men with hips far worse than they should be at their age?”
Realizing we’re talking about love and kinks in the middle of our apartment building’s hallway, I grab his hand and pull him into my place.
Beckett laughs, following me. “You do, don’t you?!”
“Hard to say.” I push him against the closed door. “I can definitely confirm I have a thing for one guy with old-man hips.”
He twists his hand in the bottom of my shirt. “Oh yeah?”
I kiss him deeply, his lips eagerly engaging mine in a dance that feels like fireworks and coming home.
He pulls me into him, his erection pressing into my stomach in a way that makes it impossible for me to keep in the low moan building in my throat.
“You want to know the best part?” I ask when we finally pull apart, my chest heaving.
“It’s not that you get to keep your job?” he says on a disbelieving laugh.
I tilt my head back and forth. “Well, maybe, but I was thinking the fact that I happen to have a nice little vacation planned for the next four weeks.”
He chuckles. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
I bite my bottom lip and nod. “Want to spend it with me?”
“You couldn’t stop me even if you tried.”