Barton’s parents would have been proud of him; mine would be disgusted with me.

I stared at the latest email from Leona on the screen of my laptop. She wanted another update. Barton’s agent had been in touch to say that sponsors were few and far between at the moment. No one wanted to sponsor a player who kept his head down and got on with the game, and Barton had been scandal free for weeks now.

I’d been giving Leona regular updates on my progress, but I’d always told her that things would kick off soon. They never did. Barton had taken my advice on board and now he was behaving himself in public. The visit to the children’s hospital had gone as expected; the news had leaked and he’d looked like a hero.

I drafted an email explaining that Barton would get plenty of publicity once the season started. He still had a reputation for being a touch hotheaded, and there were bound to be a few flare ups on the field. I couldn’t control those. I stared at the email for twenty minutes and then deleted it.

Time to take a stand. I kept the next email short and to the point. It would get me fired, but I didn’t care anymore. I considered keeping it vague, but then thought ‘fuck it,’ and wrote everything up in detail. Leona would try to fuck up every job interview I went to for the next ten years; I wanted an email that I could use to defend myself if necessary.

I am not happy with the current approach the firm has adopted for Barton Fenner. I understand the rationale behind making him look bad in public, but ultimately his career would be better served if he continued acting positively in the public eye.

Barton may lose some sponsorships, but from my time spent with the client, I don’t believe he would take issue with this. While Barton initially appeared to thrive off bad publicity almost as much as good publicity, he now prefers to develop long-lasting relationships with sponsors that will help him project a positive image to the public.

I cannot, in good conscience, continue working for this client when we are in effect jeopardizing his career.

Please confirm that you are happy for me to support Barton in his goals going forward.

Regards, Kristi

The email was basically my letter of resignation. There were more important things than my fledgling career. So what if I didn’t get a job after this internship? There had to be other jobs. I was only twenty-one; I refused to believe my career could be over before it had begun.

Even if it did cost me my career, some things were worth it. Some people were worth it.

I read the email over again and again, but didn’t change a word. It was ready. I hit send and then immediately went to the ‘Sent’ section of my emails and forwarded it to my personal email account. I took a photograph of the email as well. I wanted proof that I’d sent this email to Leona, because she seemed like the type of boss who could make emails disappear. And people, probably.

Once I logged off, the metaphorical weight off my shoulders disappeared in an instant. It was all out of my hands now. I might have just fucked up my life, but the email was out there and there was nothing I could do about it anymore.

One feeling that didn’t fade was the guilt. Without the fear for my job clouding my judgment, I now realized just how much I’d betrayed Barton. I’d pretended I was just a disgruntled employee who’d had no choice. But I’d had a choice and I chose to work for Leona. I’d done my best for Barton though. Hadn’t I? Was there more I could have done to help him if I’d not been trying to keep Leona in the dark?

I knew the answer to that one. I’d only done half a job at best for Barton. I’d been juggling my loyalties towards him and Leona. Now all three of us were going to lose.

“Kristi, I’m heading out,” Tasha yelled. “And I’m staying at Clyde’s tonight, so you and Barton have the place completely to yourselves. No interruptions, I promise.”

“Sure you haven’t arranged for Mom and Dad to pay a visit this time?” I joked.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’d completely forgotten that I’d invited them over.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“What? Why are you saying it like that?”

“Oh come on, Tasha. You wanted to introduce Clyde to Mom and Dad. It was sweet.”

“That wasn’t it at all,” Tasha insisted. “We’re still just having fun, and I really wish you wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“What’s gotten into you today?” I snapped.

Tasha had been acting funny all day, and it was beginning to get on my nerves. I hadn’t heard back from Leona after sending that email, so my job was still in limbo. What did Tasha have to worry about?

“Nothing,” Tasha replied. “I’ve just been getting an earful from Mom and Dad about Clyde, so I could do without it from you as well.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have introduced him to—”

“I didn’t mean to,” she yelled.

“Okay, okay. Whatever. You two are still getting on alright though?”

“Fine. We’re just fine.”

“So you’re stressed and on edge because…?”

“Because people keep asking me questions about him. I just… I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do with him now.”

“You’ve never struggled to keep men entertained. Trust me, I’m in the room across the hall, I know.”

“We’re not having any problems in that area,” Tasha said. “Far from it. It’s the other stuff that bothers me. We go out for dinner, sit in and watch television, or just play games with his roommates.”

“And that bores you?”

“No. Not at all. But it should. I usually hate all that stuff.”

I laughed, but quickly stopped. Tasha was being serious, and she looked genuinely anxious about her evening with Clyde.

“You usually hate all that because your previous ‘boyfriends’—and I use that word lightly—couldn’t hold a conversation if their lives depended on it. You’ve never dated a guy you’ve actually connected with mentally as well as physically.”

Tasha frowned and looked at me curiously. “When did you become the expert on relationships? Never mind, I know the answer to that one. Around the time Barton stuck his huge cock in you.”

“Partly,” I admitted. “But also when he took me up to his parents’ house and we spent the night there.”

“You did? You never told me that.”

“I knew you’d ask loads of questions.”

“What happened? What was it like? Was it weird being there even though his parents are dead? Clyde told me they passed away a few years ago.”

“Point proven. It’s a lovely house and we had a great time. We just… talked. A lot. We fucked as well—”

“Of course.”

“But mainly we talked.”

“Shit,” Tasha remarked. “You’ve tamed him.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. He’s still pretty wild when he wants to be. And when I want him to be.”

“Go easy with him,” Tasha said seriously.

“You want me to go easy with Barton? Have you seen the size of him?”

“I mean emotionally. Look, maybe I’m being a bit dramatic about all this with Clyde, but I bet Barton is feeling something similar. He’s used to being a free spirit like me, and now he faces being trapped.”

“I don’t think I’m trapping him. Am I?”

“Not a good choice of words, but you know what I mean. Just remember, that this is new for him. It might have him feeling so nervous he wants to throw up. For example.”

“Why don’t you tell Clyde how you feel?” I asked, desperate to take the conversation away from Barton. Tasha meant well, but I hoped Barton wouldn’t throw up at the mere thought of me.

“He wouldn’t understand,” Tasha replied. “I think he’s falling in love with me.”

“Oh shit. Well, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Just tell him you need more time.”

“I will. In the meantime, try not to get too obsessed with Barton. I may have to break Clyde’s heart, but it will be even worse to see you get yours broken, too.”

I nodded and smiled as Tasha walked out of the apartment.

“Too late,” I said to myself. “Too damn late.”