Chapter 23
AVA
Nervous energy pulses through every cell in my body as the digital screen on the elevator ticks up to three. This is it. My chance to impress Jonathan Towers, the Gliders’ general manager. If things go well, I might have the opportunity to lobby for a permanent mental performance coach.
Or, at the very least, a contract extension.
Assuming you don’t let Banks run roughshod over you today.
I won’t. Probably.
To be honest, I was surprised to be included in the meeting, but he said Towers requested my presence. That has to be a good sign, right?
The elevator doors slide open, and I wipe my palms on my thighs one last time.
Relax, you can do this.
Totally. I’m a fully empowered boss babe and I control my future. Or something like that…
I make my way to the administrative offices housed on the third level of the Triada Center. I’m fifteen minutes early, which should be early by anyone’s standards, but it’s my first meeting with the Gliders’ GM, and I want to make a good impression.
The receptionist flashes a megawatt smile as I approach the desk, and I feel myself relaxing in turn. “How can I help you?”
“Hi, Ava Washington.” I hitch my bag up on my shoulder, which is more habit than necessity. “I have a meeting with Jonathan Towers at three.”
Her fingers fly over her keyboard as she confirms the appointment, but then her brows knit together, and she frowns.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see that meeting on Mr. Towers’s schedule. Are you sure you have the right date and time?”
I’ve spent the last two days preparing for this appointment. It’s the single most important meeting I have this week. There’s no way I got the date and time wrong.
“Can you double-check? Perhaps my name isn’t on the invite. Dr. Stuart Banks is also attending. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”
“Dr. Banks?” She flashes me a sympathetic smile. “I checked him in for a two o’clock appointment nearly an hour ago.”
My stomach drops. No, no, it’s not possible.
I fish my phone out of my bag and pull up my calendar, confirming the meeting details.
Relief floods my chest, and I hold the phone out to the receptionist. “I think there’s been a mistake. The meeting invitation says three.”
The receptionist nods slowly. “That invitation is from Dr. Banks. The invitation from Mr. Towers was for two o’clock.
It looks like Dr. Banks put the wrong time when he added you to the meeting.
” She sighs. “It’s an easy mistake to make, and an easy one to avoid.
He should’ve just added you to the original invitation instead of creating a new one. ”
This was no accident.
Banks gave me the wrong time on purpose. I know it as surely as I know the sky is blue.
How could he do this to me? We’re supposed to be on the same freaking team. And if I can’t trust him to give me correct meeting times, how can I trust him with…anything?
Anger bubbles up from the pit of my stomach, red hot and molten, bringing with it the intense desire to scream.
Proper ladies don’t have public meltdowns.
No, they just throw out passive-aggressive platitudes and razor-sharp smiles.
But this isn’t the receptionist’s fault, so I force a smile and thank her for her time.
I’m still standing in the lobby, debating my next move when Emerson appears.
“I thought that was you!” she says, grinning. “What brings you over to admin?”
I lead her away from the receptionist’s desk and quietly explain the situation.
By the time I’m done, Emerson is so heated, there are flames shooting out of her eyes. “What an asshole. You know he did that on purpose, right?”
“I know.” I shake my head in disgust. “The man’s slicker than a slop jar, I’ll give him that.
In one swift move, he’s managed to make me look either disorganized or completely disrespectful.
Heck, probably both.” I sigh. “It’s not the impression I’d hoped to make, and it certainly won’t help me land a permanent position with the Gliders. ”
“Ava, you can’t let him get away with this.”
“There’s not much I can—”
The quiet hum of male voices interrupts our discussion, and Banks steps into the lobby with a man I recognize as Jonathan Towers.
Maybe it’s not too late to salvage the situation.
“Give me a second. I’ll be right back.”
Smoothing my blouse, I stride across the lobby, head held high.
I’m mentally running through a polite interruption, but Banks saves me the trouble.
“Ms. Washington, nice of you to join us, but we’re just wrapping up.”
How dare he…
So not the time for justified outrage.
Ignoring the dig, I offer Jonathan Towers my most winning smile and extend my hand.
“Mr. Towers, I’m Ava Washington. It’s so nice to meet you.
” We shake, and his grip is firm, but not overly so.
That’s a good sign. “I apologize for missing today’s meeting.
I was looking forward to speaking with you, but unfortunately my invitation had the wrong start time. ”
The urge to glare at Banks is strong, but I resist. He’s friends with Towers, and I can’t afford to make a worse impression than I’ve already made.
“Please call me Jonathan and don’t worry about the meeting.” He smiles, revealing a set of teeth so perfect they have to be the product of post-hockey dental work. “Stuart brought me up to speed.”
I’ll bet he did.
“I’m glad to hear it.” It’s a struggle to keep my smile fixed in place, but I manage. “If you have any follow-up questions, I’d be happy to answer them.”
“I appreciate the offer.” He laughs and turns to Banks. “You’d better watch out, Stuart. This one will steal your job if you don’t keep coming up with out of the box ideas like that Fear in a Helmet exercise you were telling me about.”
Banks took credit for my work? Why? He’s a PhD. He hardly needs to prove himself.
Because he could. Because he’s a miserable troll of a man with an ego the size of the East Coast.
The knowledge is of little comfort, but at least now I know why he didn’t want me here today.
“I need to get back to work,” Towers says, still grinning. “But I’m pleased with the progress y’all have made this season. I was worried after the first few games, but we’ve got a winning record for the first time, and things seem to be moving in the right direction. Keep up the good work.”
I want to say something, to point out that Fear in a Helmet was my breakthrough, that Banks’s involvement with the team is minimal, to pitch the benefits of a full-time mental performance coach, but the words are lodged in my throat.
Towers turns to me. “Ms. Washington, it was nice to meet you. I hope next time we’ll have an opportunity to chat more about your role with the team.”
I nod, unable to find the right words, and then he’s gone, leaving me alone with Banks.
“Did you tell him that Fear in a Hat was your idea?” I already know the answer, but I want to hear him say it. Want him to look me in the eye and admit what he did.
“You should be thanking me right now. I did you a favor.” Banks straightens, doing his best to look down his nose at me. “Do you have any idea how it looks to blow off a meeting with the GM? I thought it best not to draw attention to your absence.”
I clench my hands at my sides. My nails dig into the fleshy part of my palms, but I welcome the pain. “I only missed the meeting because you put the wrong time on the invitation.”
Banks is unfazed by the accusation. “Is that what happened? I’ll remind Judy to be more careful in the future.”
Of course he’s using his assistant as a scapegoat. I’d expect nothing less at this point.
“What’s done is done,” he says. “You need to forget about this meeting and focus on your work with the team. You heard Towers. He’s pleased with the way things are going. If the team keeps winning, there just might be a place for you next year after all.”
Banks is only dangling the carrot to make me comply, and as much as I’d like to tell him to pound sand, I’m not going to do it. No matter how furious I am right now, I can’t afford to make waves. Not when things are finally starting to come together.
He clears his throat. “I won’t have time to stop by the training facility next week, but let me know if there are any major developments.”
Oh, I’ll let him know alright.
He turns to go and then pauses, as if he’s just had a thought. “You can skip the weekly report this week since we’re in lockstep.”
His tone is condescending, as if he’s doing me a favor. Like throwing me a bone will make up for the fact that he squeezed me out of the GM meeting and took credit for my work.
The audacity of this man is staggering.
Banks stares at me for a long moment, as if waiting for me to thank him. When he realizes it’s not going to happen, he boards the elevator and leaves without so much as a goodbye.
“I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you have to start standing up for yourself,” Emerson says when I rejoin her. “If you don’t, that man will continue to shit all over you.”
“Wow. Tell me what you really think,” I deadpan, ready to throw this entire day in the trash.
She holds up her palms in self-defense. “I know I’m just a lowly intern, but I see a lot more than people think, and that man is a narcissistic asshole.”
“You won’t get any argument from me.” I snort. “I think it might actually be a job requirement.”
“Come on.” Emerson hooks her arm through mine. “There’s something I want you to see.”
She leads me out of reception and into the open-concept office space of the Gliders admin team.
Her desk is in the middle of what can only be described as a greige cubicle farm.
It’s as far from the windows as you can get, which I guess tracks for an intern, but she’s made the space her own by tacking up pictures and adding some colorful planters.
“Check this out,” she says, pulling up a video on her computer.
The file opens and Smitty’s grinning face appears on screen. He’s about to take the ice at the training facility, but the admin, presumably Emerson, is blocking his path.