Page 100 of Thrown for a Loop
I open my mouth and close it again.
“Because if itwastrue…” He pauses to take a gulp from his giant coffee. “I know my newest coach wouldknock on my fucking door and tell me herself.”
Oh.I guess it figures that a grump like Sharp would be insulted whenever he’s the last to know something. “Well, sir…” I swallow hard. “It’s been a busy morning.”
“Abusy morning,” he growls. “In the first place, Bernie is worried you’ll think he did it. And he wants to install a lock on the equipment room.”
“Oh.” I relax a little bit, because that’s easily cleared up. “Tell him not to worry. Whoever did this wascountingon Bernie getting the blame. It’s just logic.”
“It’s justlogic,” Sharp hisses, sounding like a snake coiling to strike. “So you’ve had some time to think this through?”
The question confuses me. “Well, sure. Someone tampered withthe rivets on my skates. But Bernie is too good at his job to give them back to me that way.”
“Then maybe you can tell me, if this is all so fuckinglogical—” He thumps a fist on the desk. “Why you’re not shocked—”Thump.“As—”Thump.“HELLthat someonedestroyed your skatesin your place of work?”
“Destroyed?” I yelp. “That had better not be true. You’re not paying me enough to replace them.”
“Zoe Carson,” he snarls. “I’m only going to ask this once, and I expect an honest answer.” He narrows his eyes at me, and my stomach sinks. “Has anyone in this organization fucked with you before today?”
Gulp.“This is the first time anyone has tampered with my gear,” I say carefully.
“But is it the first time someone in this building has behaved in a manner that does not befit this team?”
And now I’m trapped, because if I say yes, I look like a weak loser. And if I don’t, I’m a liar, and I’ve involved poor Darcy in my deception, too. “There were a couple of rude messages, sir. But no cause for alarm.”
His face turns a frightening shade of reddish purple. Like a ripe plum. “Coach Carson, why would you tolerate behavior like thatagainst a coach?”
“I wouldn’t!” I insist. “But the culprit is a sneaky little rat. I don’t know who he is, but until today he was too cowardly to do more than hide notes in my belongings, like a seventh-grade bully.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to tell management about your harassment? We don’t tolerate this kind of shit. It’s a hostile workplace environment!”
I didn’t think a guy who shouted all day would even know that phrase. Unless he’s just worried about lawsuits.
“Zoe,” he rumbles. “I asked you previously if all the players had done their duty by signing up for your skating sessions, and you said they did. Was that true?”
My blood pressure climbs a few more notches. “Many of them have, sir. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
Now it’s his turn to give me a look of disbelief. “How widespread is this lack of respect?”
I squirm in my chair. “Things are getting there, sir. And to be perfectly blunt, you don’t strike me as the kind of boss I can ask for help. You told me on my first day that you didn’t think I had the chops to be your skating coach. As if I’m not a better technical skater than anyone else in the building.”
He slaps his hands on the desk, and his coffee cup gives a little bounce. “You don’t understand a thing, Zoe.” He shakes his head like he just can’t believe the kind of stupidity he’s surrounded by. “I never said you weren’t a fantastic skater. I said I wasn’t sure you could be theircoach. And you have proved me right every day.”
“That is not true!” I argue. “My successes are piling up—”
“With the players who are easiest to manage,” he interrupts. “But you aren’t getting through to the tough cases. If I wanted a subservient coach, I coulda hired a golden retriever and paid him even less than you.”
I gulp.
“Here’s an example. On more than one occasion, I’ve heard you tell them to call you Zoe.”
“It’s myname!”
He shakes his head again. “Not on the ice, Coach Carson. In this building, you command respect, you don’t give it away for free. What use is being the best skater in the room if you can’t get the worst guys on this team to show up and listen to you?”
I feel like I’ve just been slapped.
“Tell me this—what was the topic of your clinic today?”
