Page 17 of The Strike Zone

FOUR

SCOUT

“Hey, Scout, do you have five?” a voice behind me called, just as I hit the button for the elevator.

I spun around to find Ava Martinez, my most senior boss, and VP of marketing, next to Lowe Slater,herboss, and the Lions president of global media communications, standing in Ava’s office doorway.

“Big guns,” Alice hissed as she passed by me on the way back from the bathroom, letting out a low whistle at the same time. “You’re in trouble.”

“Shut up,” I hissed back, though the way my heart automatically raced had me wondering the same thing while I attempted to hurry over to them but in a way that made me seem totally casual and unpanicked.

I wracked my brains as quickly as I could to figure out what I could have done that would warrant a meeting with two of the most senior women in the company.

Was I about to get fired? I don’t think I’d done anything fireable. And no one knew about the ton of Post-its I stole last month for my roommate to use on a bachelorette she was planning. Maybe this was about Cyrus and Joey gawping over players’ butts.

Given the slightly bemused expression on both their faces, I wasn’t sure I nailed the innocent look quite as well as I hoped.

All in all, being called into her office was way out of the realm of my usual day to day.

Ava’s tight curls bounced as she turned back into her office and perched on the edge of her desk, while Lowe took a seat on the couch. I was still glued to the spot in the entrance, wondering what was going on.

I’d never been in a meeting with Lowe Slater before. Not one on one. In fact, she was so many rungs above me on the corporate ladder I’m not sure I’d ever properly spoken to her. It didn’t help that she was married to Penn Shepherd and therefore intimidated 95 percent of everyone who worked in this building.

I knew Ava slightly better, very,veryslightly. She was my boss’s boss, which meant I usually only saw her once a month at the wider team meetings.

It was all the more confusing that they both looked entirely warm and welcoming.

“Come in, Scout. Take a seat.” Ava gestured toward the couch next to Lowe and the spare chair. I sensibly opted for the chair and promptly rammed my hands between my legs to stop them shaking. “We won’t keep you too long.”

“Where were you off to?” asked Lowe, brushing her hands over her jeans and almost blinding me with the giant rock on her finger as it caught the light.

“Downstairs. To the entrance. We’re setting up for some social content with the guys for when they come in today. We’re asking them who was the last person they called on their cell. We usually get some fun answers,” I blurted. “Especially as no one ever calls anymore.”

“Cute, I look forward to seeing it.”

I stared at Lowe, trying to come up with a response, better thanthank you, but I couldn’t. Instead, I smiled.

I mean, obviously she must look at the social channels for the Lions, because she oversaw everything, but the idea that she saw them—that she sawmy work—was kind of a reality check. Because she was married to the guy who paid my salary, and if she didn’t like it then maybe he wouldn’t like it and…

“How did the intern briefing go this week?” asked Ava, pulling me from my spiral.

I nodded with a smile, trying to disguise the surprise she’d even known it was happening.

“Not bad, thank you. They had some good ideas. I think they’ll be an asset to the team this quarter.” Assuming they can stop talking about butts. “They seem very keen to get to work each day.”

In fairness to Cyrus and Joey, they had produced some good work. Better than I expected them to. They’d totally nailed the task I’d set them to come up with content ideas for the next few weeks.

Two days ago, we’d filmed in the locker rooms as part of a before and after to assess the damage done during a game.

We’d gotten down there early before the day started and before anyone arrived. The place was spotless. Everything from towels to water bottles and snacks were all lined up, neat and tidy as usual.

That wasn’t the case when we returned after the game when everyone had left. A disaster zone would be in better shape.

Wet towels were everywhere.

Who had left all the empty cans of Diet Coke piled into a pyramid on the floor?

Who’d left their shirt and shorts on the floornextto the laundry chute?

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