Page 64 of The Slapshot and the Single Mom
“I still think we shouldn’t wait that long. The sooner we shut this guy down, the better.”
“I’ll let you know,” I promise.
He sighs. “Okay. I’ll keep you updated on talks with the front office. Keep doing what you’ve been doing—stay out of trouble and play the way you’ve always played.”
“Thanks, Max. I will.”
As soon as we hang up, I call Molly. “What’s our social media situation?” I ask without preamble as soon as she picks up.
“Uh, with regard to what specifically?”
“Do you have someone on staff who handles that?”
“That falls under my job duties, though I usually try to let the intern handle it. When we have one, anyway.”
That’s kinda what I thought. I’ve looked at the social media pages for the Emeralds, and while it’s fine, it’s nothing spectacular. “Do you think there’d be a place for a social media manager in the PR office?”
She pauses for a second, and I hold my breath waiting for her answer. “I can’t specifically say yes or no to that question, but I assume you’re asking because you have someone in mind.”
I blow out a breath. “Yeah. Maggie. My girlfriend. She needs a new job.”
Molly hums, the sound not giving away much. “I’m aware that you’re dating the social media manager for Brock Savage’s show. I’ve managed to keep that piece of information out of the media—thank you, by the way, for keeping me updated on when and where you and her make public appearances so I can stay on top of those things. It makes my job much easier.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Based on the virality of the story about you, as well as other things I’ve seen from that show, she does good work.”
“She worked for her ex’s show before she started working for Brock. Managed to get him picked up by a network. Then he basically had her blacklisted when they got divorced. Made it all but impossible for her to find a job in sports media, which is why she works for Brock Savage. I’m pretty sure she’d happily take a new job if she could find one.”
“Oh, really?” Molly sounds much more interested now. “What’s the name of her ex’s show, and do you know how long ago she worked on it?”
“Her ex is Kyle McKenna. I’m not sure if his show still has the same name as it did when it was independent. They’ve been divorced for about four years. So it’d be before that.”
“Good to know,” Molly murmurs. “Have her send me a resume, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Molly. You’re the best.”
She laughs. “I try. It would be nice to have someone experienced focusing on our social media. I have too many other things to handle to do it well. We’ve needed a dedicated person for years, but convincing the C-suite execs of that has been an uphill battle. If I have someone with her track record to present, though …” She trails off. “Like I said, get me her resume. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks again.”
After hanging up with Molly, I call Maggie. She doesn’t pick up, though, so I leave a voicemail. “Hey, Maggie! I have some potentially good news. Give me a call when you can.” And then I turn on the TV to pass the time, waiting impatiently for my girlfriend to call me back.
When she finally does hours later, I nearly drop my phone. I’m a little surprised, honestly, because part of me was worried she might wait until Liam was asleep before calling. Usually if I call during the day, she’ll call me on her way to pick him up, especially if I leave a voicemail like the one I left today.
Hitting the answer button, I grin. “Hey, Maggie! How was your day?”
She clears her throat. “Um, Jack? We need to talk.”
Uh-oh. While I might not have a ton of experience with relationships, I’ve witnessed enough to know that those words never signal something positive. “Okay. I have something important to tell you, too.” She makes a sound that has me concerned. “Are you okay, Maggie? Did something happen to Liam?”
“No, no. Liam’s fine.”
“With your ex? Is he giving you more trouble?”
“No. Well, yes, really, but that’s not—” She takes a deep breath. “Jack, I’m really sorry to do this over the phone, but with your schedule changing and everything, I just …” She clears her throat again as my heart sinks, a cold ball of dread forming in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” she whispers.
“This …” I repeat. “This what? What do you mean?”
