Page 14 of A Little Too Forward

I wasn’t going for the sweaty, out-of-breath look, but that’s exactly what they’re getting as I huff my name at the receptionist. She stares at me a little too long in shock before realizing we’re in a stare down.

“Right. Sorry,” she stammers. “Please take a seat, and I will let Ray know you’re here.”

“Thanks,” I breathe out, grateful for the extra time to get myself under control. My butt has just hit the chair and I’m reaching into my bag for my water bottle when one of the far glass doors opens, and there is Ray.

“Ah! Right on time! Sabrina, how are you doing?”

I choke on my sip of water. Grimacing, I give Ray a nod of greeting before turning to the side and coughing. It takes me a full minute to get myself under control again.

“Sorry,” I gasp. “Water went down the wrong way.” I sound like a ninety-year-old smoker, but Ray just smiles his practised reporter smile at me.

“No problem. Why don’t we head back into my office.”

Nodding, I follow him through the office doors and into a nice but very white and minimalist space. This is nothing like the chaotic offices of theSphere.

Ray’s office is exactly what I’m expecting. The white theme continues, but he’s got sports memorabilia and pictures of career highlights on every wall and surface. I’m not sure how I feel about such a clean space as I am a creature of chaos, but I give him a forced smile as I take everything in.

“Better?”

“Yes, sorry. Traffic was, well, Toronto traffic, and I had to boot it for the last block.”

“It’s always a nightmare. Having an office central in the city is great, but it definitely has its downfalls too.”

“I can imagine,” I placate him. Ray Montello is the host ofOn the Iceand head of the sports broadcasting department. I highly doubt he worries about traffic when he has a driver to take him everywhere.

“Look, Sabrina, I’m stoked you came in today. I caught the clip of your interview with Daws last night, and I have to say I love your reporting style. Informational but also fun—it’s a unique blend to find in a reporter.”

His wording makes it sound like he’s only seen one interview of mine. My usual styleisinformational…but fun? I wouldn’t exactly call quips and insights fun. Before I can say anything, Ray continues on.

“You’re exactly the talent we’re looking for here.”

My heart rate speeds up. Yes, this is it. The next step in my career. Being a part of Ray’s team of sports analysts won’t provide as much air time as theSphere, but the connections I would make and the exposure—that would be a game changer.Oh my God!

“But—”

The high I was feeling seconds ago shrivels up and dies. My body deflates with just that one word.

“But,” he repeats again, pausing, “unfortunately, we’re all staffed up. I’d love to keep your info in case we need a substitute or even a guest panelist.”

He’s looking at me, expecting something. I realize I’ve just been staring at him, lost in thought and mute with shock.

“Yeah,” I quickly provide. “Yeah, that would be great.” My words are hollow, and I’m sure Ray can see how glassy my eyes are.

“Excellent!” He claps his hands, pushing back his chair and standing again.

Oh, okay. I guess this meeting is over. I had thought I was interviewing for a position today, but turns out I was just here to be fawned over.

Taking his outstretched hand, I give it a firm shake before exiting his office. He doesn’t even try to walk me out. I’ve been expertly dismissed. I keep a small, fake grin on my face as I pass workers and even give a thankful nod to the receptionist.

As soon as I’m back out on the street, I let out a shuddering exhale. My chest feels hot, but the rest of my body is still ice-cold.

What the hell just happened? What I thought was going to be a career stepping stone turned into a goddamn waste of my time and a mindfuck. Why had they even set up this interview if it was just to string me along? And oh my God, what if he hadn’t seen the clip of Max and me? What would Ray have even talked to me about? They’d asked for this meeting before I went viral.

The city life continues around me, but I stay still, watching and waiting for who knows what. I don’t want to stay here, but I definitely don’t want to go home. If I head back to my apartment now, I’ll just wallow in my own self-pity. And eat everything in my fridge.

That will not fly with me today. This is just a minor setback. Something great is just around the corner. So I’ll just keep walking and circling the block, metaphorically, until that opportunity presents itself.

Tipping my head up to the sun and squaring my shoulders, I begin to walk away from the building. I have no idea where I’m headed, but it feels good to be moving. Focusing on something new instead of overthinking the events of minutes ago.

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