JACKSON
Park City, Utah
I’m a hollow shell of myself when I pull open the door to the Center the following morning. My eyes are so puffy from last night’s cry-fest that no amount of under eye concealer can make them look normal. My wet hair is braided because I couldn’t be bothered to do anything with it after my shower. My limbs feel like they weigh fifty pounds each, and as I walk across the empty lobby with its huge two-story windows, I’m carrying the weight of everything that I’m losing.
I came in extra early, knowing TJ would be here and hoping no one else would be yet. I find him in the weight room, exactly where I expect him to be. And as if he knew I’d be here early to see him, he’s organizing the dumbbells rather than getting his own workout in.
“Jackson Hole.” The way he says my nickname—the same way you’d greet someone in the receiving line at a funeral—sounds more likegoodbyethan the word itself ever could.
“I’m so sorry, TJ.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, but the words seem to stick in his throat and come out raspy.
“You gave me this job fresh out of school, before I was probably ready for it—”
“You were ready.”
“And I fucked it up. But Itoldyou this wouldn’t work out. Back when Nate first joined the team.”
“You were successful beyond belief. And I hate what this one mistake is going to cost you.” He shakes his head the same way my father used to when I’d disappointed him. Even from his position squatting next to the row of dumbbells, he has an air of authority.
“So it’s definite, then?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe for support.
“Nothing’s definite. But Jackson—” He lets a long sigh escape his lips as he stands. “I don’t know how we could keep you on staff with those photos out there. It is a very clear violation of your contract.”
“What about Nate?” I ask. I can’t stand the thought of him losing his spot on the team because of me. That whole strip tease during his workout was my idea, and I’m prepared to admit that if it will save his racing career. There is still so much he can accomplish, and I want him to have that opportunity. Even if he decides not to continue past this season, I want that to be hischoice, not something forced on him because of my fuckup.
“Nate doesn’t have anything in his contract that would disqualify him from racing because of this,” TJ tells me, and I relax for the first time since walking into the Center. “Which is why, as I’m sure you know, we called him back to Austria so he could train with the team for this weekend’s races.”
Thankfully I’m already leaning against the doorframe, because I think that’s all that’s holding me up right now.Nate is in Austria? No phone call. No text. Nothing. He flew to Europe and didn’t even tell me?
I can hear the blood pounding in my head, but I refuse to lose my composure in front of TJ. I take a deep breath and draw on any strength I’ve got left to get me through the rest of this conversation.
I can’t force any words out, so I just nod, acting like of course I knew Nate was in Europe. Because yesterday we were making plans for the future, and less than twenty-four hours later, while my life is completely crashing down on me, he’s already left without telling me.Again.
“For now I’ve been instructed to put you on an unpaid leave,” he tells me.
“While what?”
“While they decide what to do about the situation.”
“Who has seen those pictures besides you and Matt?” I ask, wondering if there’ll be some kind of investigation. If me keeping my job hinges on anyone else seeing those photos, I’m out.
“No one that I know of. Matt sent them to me only. I haven’t shared them with anyone else. But I had to report the fact that they exist. I’m sorry, Jackson,” he says when he sees my face fall. “I had to. Which is when HR said to put you on administrative leave while they investigated the allegations that you’d breached your contract.”
I’d reviewed my contract last night after Sierra left. Sure enough, there was a clause in there about not being involved in a sexual relationship with any of the athletes on the team.
“We’ve both seen the photos, TJ. We know that I’m in violation of my contract. And if an ‘investigation’ means anyone else is going to have to see those photos in order to come to the same conclusion, then I’d rather resign.”
“I hate to say this. I really wish I didn’t have to. But that might be for the best,” he says. “There’s no reason to drag it out.”
Again I nod, not trusting my voice.
“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” TJ tells me, taking the steps between us quickly and wrapping his arms around me. He rests his cheek on top of my head. “I really hate to lose you like this.”
“I did this to myself,” I mumble into the space between his pec and bicep.
“It still feels wrong to let you go,” he says.