Page 125 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“The executives?” I asked.
“Driving over from FNC HQ in an hour. Some head honcho took the red-eye from New York when they saw Parker's initial report.”
Everything was falling into place.
Right as scheduled, Sloane's van pulled into the parking lot. I watched from the window as she got out, all perky confidence in her designer workout wear, directing her crew like she owned the place. She had no idea there were three extra cars in the visitor section. No idea her entire world was about to implode.
“Gryff, Flynn,” she called out as she entered, that fake bright smile plastered on her face. “Ready for some great content today? I have some really exciting segments planned.”
I bet she did. Today was the day she expected everyone to either come out or refuse and watch her release... what? But I still didn't know what she thought she was going to threaten me with. She'd been doing some fishing of her own, but what was she going to release about me? Photos of me and Artie holding hands? Videos of us kissing? We'd been doing that publicly for weeks now.
But the other guys, they had more to lose. Or thought they did.
“Can't wait,” I said, keeping my voice neutral.
She started setting up with her crew, chattering about storylines and dramatic reveals. “You know, Gryff, I've been trying so hard to find something more interesting about you and Artie. You two claim to be together, but you acted like such, uh, weirdos about it, it makes one wonder if it's all for show.”
“Does it?” I asked mildly.
“I mean, a bisexual football player and a bisexual rugby player just happen to fall in love right when you both need publicity? It's almost too convenient.” She was casting for a fish, and I wasn't biting. “Unless there's something else you'd like to share? Today is a big day for... revelations.”
Before I could respond, the door opened.
“Actually,” Bridger's voice carried across the facility, “today is definitely a day for revelations.”
Sloane spun around. Her face went pale when she saw my dad, Artie, and Parker walking in. Parker was carrying a laptop and a thick folder.
“Mr. Kingman,” Sloane stammered. “So nice to meet you. I didn't know you were coming to practice.”
“Wouldn't miss it,” Dad said pleasantly. “Especially not today.”
“Who's this?” Sloane asked, eyeing Parker nervously.
“Parker Chen, FlixNChill IT department. Cybersecurity,” Parker said, flashing her badge. “We need to talk.”
“I don't understand?—“
The door opened again. This time, a whole group of people in expensive suits walked in. I recognized the woman in front. Parker told us she was reporting all of this to FlixNChill's Head of Original Programming, Tally Tajaria. Beside her was her boss. And from the deference being shown to the older man with them, possibly her boss's boss.
“Ms. Mitchell,” Tally said coldly. “We need to discuss some serious concerns that have been brought to our attention.”
“I don't... what is this?”
“This,” Parker said, opening her laptop, “is your real resume. Not the one you submitted to FlixNChill.” She turned the screen toward the executives. “Ms. Mitchell was expelled from USC's journalism program for fabricating sources. She was sued by two subjects of her student documentary for invasion of privacy and harassment. She filmed them without their knowledge in the women's locker room. Both cases were settled out of court.”
“There was an NDA. Our lawyers said it was all sealed,” Sloane protested.
“Sealed doesn't mean gone,” Parker said. “Especially when FlixNChill's legal team gets involved. You also failed to disclose that your uncle is on the board of the production company that initially hired you. The same uncle who recommended you to FlixNChill.”
Coach Reimann and the Bandits PR director had joined our growing circle.
“But the most concerning discovery,” Tally Tajaria said, “is this pattern of targeting specific players.” She held up a printout.“Ms. Mitchell's personal notes, recovered from her FlixNChill cloud storage. She specifically selected seven players for this season based on their suspected sexual orientation.”
“I was trying to increase representation,” Sloane said desperately. “To make the League more inclusive.”
“By threatening to out them against their will?” The PR director stepped forward. “Ms. Mitchell, the Bandits organization is fully committed to supporting all our players, regardless of orientation. But that support means letting them tell their own stories on their own timeline.”
“She has a point though,” the older executive said thoughtfully. “The League does need to be more inclusive.”
