Page 48 of My Brother's Enemy
32
RAIN
They’d made me an office in a room previously used for storage near the administration offices. I was working on a few individual plans—step-by-step ways to work toward achieving a goal. I had them for almost all the players now, as well as for the team itself and the coaches. I was working on one for Meester when there was a knock at my door.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Mal Benoit poked his head in. He flashed me a smile, in dress slacks and a button-down shirt. The collar was pulled out and it was sans a tie, but he looked the epitome of a rich business owner. “Bad time?”
“Uh, no.” I saved my work and closed out of the program, shutting my laptop. “Come in.” I indicated the loveseat on the other side of my desk. When and if a player came in, I liked having them comfortable. As Mal took a seat at one end, I said, “I have a mini fridge. Would you like water? I also brought in my Keurig. I can make a mean cup of coffee.”
“I’m good. You do know there’s a whole cafeteria where any of the staff can go for water or coffee or hell, even a latte, I’m told.” He was teasing, but I saw some tension on his face.
I had an inkling of what this was about, but I asked anyway. “What brings you to my corner of the Grays’ world?”
“What happened with Tyler?”
Yes. That.
Since I’d told Tyler my secret, he hadn’t spoken a word to me. That’d been a week ago. I hadn’t been certain what to expect from him, but it wasn’t this silent treatment.
I’d tried telling myself it was fine. We never talked around the team, but this felt different. If I entered a room, he left it. If he had to be in a room with me, he kept his eyes somewhere else. It was to be expected, and maybe even for the best, except ithurt.
He had every right to be angry.
We couldn’t have kept going the way we were.
I kept reminding myself it was for the best. It worked after a while, after I’d learned to numb myself before coming to the arena every morning and to give myself a few hours every evening to turn off all of the hurt.
But I was miserable at work when I was around the team. Around him.
I’d shut down more and more. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Mal had heard about it, or that he was concerned enough to make an office visit.
My heartbeat picked up. This could be the start of them having to make a choice: Tyler Griffin or me.
“Griffin found out who I’m related to.”
Whatever Mal had been expecting, it wasn’t that. His face went blank in surprise. “He—what?”
My hands began to shake. I tucked them under the desk, folding them together in my lap. “That’s why you’re here, right? Because of the way he’s been ignoring me?”
He coughed and straightened in his seat. “I mean, yes. People have noticed and brought it to me, but…” He gave me a befuddled look. “How’d he find out?”
“I told him.”
He pulled in a sharp breath. “What? You what?”
“I told him.” I said it again.
“Why?”
For a moment, a very brief moment, I considered coming clean about our potential personal relationship. That would’ve been career suicide. I’d be fired. He would have no other choice. I’d be forcing his hand. I was self-aware enough to know I wanted to punish myself—that’s where that impulse came from. I wanted to push myself down even farther. But I didn’t do it.
Mal was still waiting for an explanation.
I didn’t have one. “It came up in conversation.”
He leaned forward in his seat. “Walk me through that conversation.”
