Chapter 30
Brooke
I pause for a moment as I’m typing an email to Charity—unsure of how to word something—when a soft knock on my door startles me. I look up and see Hannah, the receptionist from the management suite standing there. She and I have chatted a few times in the break room and she’s a really sweet girl.
“Hey, Brooke,” she says, her voice shaking a bit. I notice she’s wringing her hands.
“What’s up?” I ask casually, but an icy feeling of dread starts to seep through my veins.
“Um…Mr. Carlson is here, and he’s in Mr. Rutherford’s office. He’s asked to see you. There’s an attorney with him.”
I actually go dizzy for a moment. Christian Rutherford, the general manager, is with the team in Pittsburgh. They will be playing the Titans tonight at 7 P.M., 4 P.M. our time. I plan on putting the live stream on my computer screen so I can watch it while I work.
Or, at least that was the plan. I’m not sure what the hell is going on right now, but I don’t feel good about it based on Hannah’s demeanor. The fact that the owner of the Vengeance—who I know normally resides in Los Angeles—is here in Phoenix with an attorney to see me is cause for pretty big alarm.
“Do you know why he wants to see me?” I ask her hesitantly, wanting to know, and yet, not wanting to know.
She shakes her head but leans inside my office a bit more to whisper, “I heard them talking about a lawsuit, but I’m not sure what it’s about.”
A lawsuit? What in the hell?
I stand from my chair, dismayed that my legs are shaky. I follow Hannah from the administrative suite over to the management suite, rubbing my sweaty hands on my skirt to dry them off. I’m assuming it’s proper etiquette to shake the owner’s hand and not kiss his ring when I walk in, and well, I don’t want to have gross hands.
Hannah stops at her receptionist desk and gives me an encouraging smile. “Good luck.”
My brain spins as I walk toward Christian’s office, trying to figure out what this could be about. The only thing I have to be guilty about is perpetrating a fake relationship to the people in this organization, but that’s not criminal, nor do I think it’s suit worthy. The person we’ve offended the most is my father, and he would never do anything to take it out on me.
I wish I could just slip into one of the empty offices I pass and call Bishop. He would calm me down. He’d tell me to hold my head high. But I can’t disturb him with this. Not on a game day when his head needs to be in the game and not worried about me. I miss him so much, and it’s telling that he’s the one I want to turn to for security.
Instead, I put one foot in front of the other and walk like I’m on a very short plank to the general manager’s office.
As I approach, I can see Mr. Carlson pacing back and forth behind Christian’s desk with a cell phone to his ear. He’s one of those men who talk with their hands, so while one hand holds the phone, the other is gesticulating wildly.
He’s an insanely attractive man, and I find it odd that my brain would even go there. I’ve only ever seen pictures of him, but they don’t do him justice. He’s the cliché of tall, dark, and handsome with raven black hair and what appear to be even darker eyes. He looks mysterious and dangerous and I think I’m going to puke.
There’s another man sitting at a small round table near the bank of windows. His head is bent over some documents. He’s short, squat, and bald with the beady eyes of a shark. His head lifts as if he senses my approach and he waves his hand to get Mr. Carlson’s attention. He points at me through the open doorway and Mr. Carlson’s lips tighten into a thin line when he spots me.
By the time I make it inside, I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a heart attack the way my heart is racing. I give one last swipe of my hands on my skirt and enter.
Mr. Carlson is setting his phone on the desk, and when he looks back to me, his scowl disappears and I’m rewarded with a smile that’s blindingly white. “Miss Perron,” he says as he walks around the end of the conference room table, hand extended toward me. Shit…hope my hands are dry enough. “I’m so glad you could come over so quickly to meet with us.”
Our hands clasp and I can feel the clamminess of mine against the warm dryness of his. He doesn’t mention my sweatiness, and when he releases my hand, he pulls a chair out for me at the round table.
I take it, thankful to be sitting so I don’t fall if my knees give way on me.
As Mr. Carlson is sitting in the chair adjacent to me, I can’t help the words that come out of my mouth. “Am I in trouble, Mr. Carlson?”
He blinks at me in surprise, his eyes then turning sympathetic. “No, not at all, but we do have something that’s very troubling that we have to discuss with you. And it’s Dominik. Not Mr. Carlson.”
No way I can call him that, so I just won’t call him anything at all. “What can I help you with?”
I’m actually impressed that my voice comes out a bit stronger now that he said I’m not in trouble.
Dominik—and I deem it’s fine for me to use his first name inside my head—nods his head toward the man I have to assume is an attorney according to what Hannah said. His eyes definitely appear sharklike. “This is Fred Gruber. He’s the organization’s lead counsel based here in Phoenix.”
“Hello,” I say politely.
Mr. Gruber just nods at me, his intense stare starting to wig me out slightly.
“Brooke,” Dominik says to get my attention. When I let my eyes slide back to him, he says, “We were served with a lawsuit today filed by Nanette Pearson.”
“What?” I gasp.
“I understand she’s a friend of yours from New York and had been staying with you recently while she visited the Phoenix area, right?”
I nod dumbly, unable to answer the question.
“She’s sued the organization for sexual harassment,” Mr. Gruber says, holding up one of the documents lying on the table before him. “She specifically named Sebastian Parr, Dax Monahan, and Erik Dalhbeck in the complaint.”
“What?” I gasp again, this time sounding slightly hysterical. “I don’t understand.”
“We don’t either,” Mr. Gruber clips out. “That’s why we want to know what you know. We understand you’re directly in the middle of all of this. We figured it would be less…stressful to talk to you informally like this rather than to have to subpoena you to a deposition.”
“Fred,” Dominik chastises the attorney with clear warning in his voice for perhaps taking such an aggressive stance. I get it. They’re going to play good cop/bad cop with me.
“Brooke, we really need to know all the facts so we can adequately protect our players and employees from this lawsuit,” Dominik says gently.
I nod, sort of understanding that, but I’m also sort of starting to feel numb.
From the top of my head, down to my toes.
“Mr. Carlson,” I manage to say past a very dry throat.
“Dominik,” he corrects.
I swallow as I nod, trying to lubricate my vocal cords. “Dominik…I’ll be glad to help in any way I can—”
“That’s not all,” Fred interrupts, and I can tell by the way he’s leaning toward me that he’s been dying to throw this at me. “Miss Pearson’s attorney leaked the story to the news when they filled the lawsuit this morning. Miss Pearson is claiming that your relationship with Bishop Scott is a sham, and that you are secretly having an affair with Sebastian Parr, which is how you got your new position in merchandising.”
That’s when the room starts spinning, and I can vaguely hear Dominik call my name in alarm. I slap my hand on the table in a desperate attempt to stop the dizziness.
To my surprise, it actually works.
I focus in on Dominik and manage to rasp out, “Not true. The affair part with Sebastian.”
“I believe you,” he says immediately. “You see…Sebastian had reported to Christian Rutherford last week that he’d interviewed Miss Pearson for a potential job within the organization. He went to Christian immediately after the interview, quite upset because Miss Pearson made a pretty vulgar pass at Sebastian. He wanted to report it and get it on the record.”
“Do you believe him?” I ask somewhat bluntly. I have to know exactly how Dominik views this, because I know his opinion will matter the most.
“Christian believed him wholeheartedly,” Dominik says neutrally. “And I have to trust Christian. Why? Do you doubt him?”
“Actually, no I don’t,” I tell him. “Nanette had told me after the interview that she had willingly given him a…um…had oral sex with him voluntarily and at his direction. There was something about it…I just…I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but it just seemed really out there. Is that making sense?”
“We think Miss Pearson set up this whole sexual harassment lawsuit merely as a way to make a buck,” Fred Gruber says imperiously. “We think she’s revealing your dirty laundry to the press to just make things more interesting and to keep the spotlight on herself. Tear at us from the inside so to speak.”
My gaze goes from Fred to Dominik. “Mr. Carlson—”
“Dominik,” I say quite pissily. “I swear to you…I did not have an affair or anything of that nature with Sebastian. And yes, the relationship with Bishop started out on not quite a legitimate level for personal reasons that I don’t think are anyone’s business, but it’s not a sham now.”
“It isn’t any of my business,” he says quietly, giving me a reassuring smile. “But we will have to address it to the press. I think the truth is always the best course. Your statement can be just that with no further explanation. That will eventually die down and I expect it will be old news sooner rather than later.”
I nod, feeling so very sick to my stomach. My dad is going to know I’ve been lying to him, and no matter how good my intentions were, it’s going to slice him deep. This is going to embarrass Marianne, who has been nothing but kind to Bishop and me, trying to help us as best she could. It’s going to bring a level of jaundice to this organization that will color all the amazing things they’ve been doing as an expansion team.
And it’s all because of me.
“This is all my fault,” I murmur, looking down and twisting Marianne’s ring on my finger.
“It is,” I say lifting my eyes to his. “None of this would have happened had I not just told the truth to my father from the get-go.”
Dominik is shaking his head. “That doesn’t change what Nanette orchestrated—”
“Yes, it does,” I interrupt, leaning forward in my chair. “I brought Nanette into the lie when she came to visit because she knew I had not dated Bishop for as long as we were claiming. And when I made her a part of my deceit, she had leverage over me. It’s why I let her stay for so long, and gave her the opportunity to meet people in the organization and set this up. This is right on my shoulders, and as such, I’m giving you my formal resignation.”
“I’m not the proper channel to do that—” Dominik starts to say, I know only as a stalling measure.
“You’re the owner,” I snap at him, completely not intimidated anymore. What do I have to be scared of? Everything has tumbled apart anyway. “There’s no one more qualified to accept someone’s resignation.”
“Brooke,” he says in a tone that has me shrinking back a bit. It’s commanding, slightly haughty, and a little bit threatening. “You did nothing wrong and did not cause this. I absolutely will not accept your resignation. I’d ask you to think about it. Take some time away from here if you have to, but at least think about it. That’s not a request…it’s an order.”
There’s no sense in arguing with him. He’ll roll right over me and he can’t stop me from quitting. But I need to set that aside for now.
Instead, I give him a cool smile, and I’m impressed with how calm I am right now. “You said you needed to interview me. That you need to know everything I know. Can we get that over with? I’d like to do that, and if it’s okay with you, I really would like to take a bit of time away from here to…think things through.”
Dominik doesn’t look convinced, and in fact looks a bit troubled. But he nods and says, “Of course…let’s get this done. I know this was all a shock to you and you’d probably like to get out of here.”
For the next two hours, I answer everything that Fred Gruber asks. Dominik doesn’t ask a single question, but he manages to shoot me encouraging smiles when I dare to look at him. As far as billionaires go, he’s pretty cool I guess.
When Fred has finally exhausted himself of any other questions to ask, I finally have one of my own. “What are you going to do? Are you going to pay Nanette off? Give her the money she’s asking for?”
Dominik shrugs. “Sometimes that’s the most efficient course of action. It will put it quickly to rest.”
“But she’s lying,” I snarl with outrage. “She pursued Dax and Erik. They did absolutely nothing wrong, and she’s totally setting Sebastian up. You can’t pay her.”
“That’s not for you to worry about,” Fred says dismissively as he gathers his papers. He heads toward the door, but before leaving he says, “Make sure we have your most up-to-date contact info. You’re a critical witness in this case, Miss Perron.”
“Of course,” I say with barely any strength left in me.
“Are you okay?” Dominik asks.
I nod as I push up from the chair. My back hurts. My head hurts.
My fucking heart hurts.
“I’m not coming in tomorrow,” I say bluntly. “I’d like to take a few days away from here. I think I’ll go visit some friends in New York.”
“Think you’ll come back?” he asks boldly.
I don’t answer him but instead twist Marianne’s ring off my finger. I hand it to him and he takes it without any hesitation. “Can you see that stays safe and gets into Bishop’s hands? It’s his mom’s ring.”
Dominik gives me what looks like a sad smile. It’s as if he’s watching the death of something beautiful. “Sure.”
“Thank you,” I say, and then turn for the door.