The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(26)

“Mom.” I groaned. “You used to be in the entertainment industry. You modeled. That’s not so different from what Paul does.”

“And I was in many kitchens before that. Ugly, filthy kitchens at that. I bet that boy hasn’t lifted a finger in his life.”

“I… There’s…” No point in discussing this. “There’s something I need to talk to Dad about. Can you please pass him the phone?”

Maricela Reyes sighed the sigh that told me she wasn’t done with me. “Work. It’s always work. ?Y qué hago con los pastelitos que te traje? I thought they’d cheer you up. The internet is so mean. The comments under your video are—”

“Kelly will love them,” I interjected. I did not want to hear about what the internet was saying. “Give the sweets to her.”

“Fine, I will. And I love you, okay? Call me if you need me, ?sí?”

“I promise,” I lied again. I wouldn’t need anyone but myself to get out of this.

There was some noise on the line as she returned to my father, and then, his voice cut a curt, “Yes?”

“I…” I started, making the mistake to trail off for a second too long.

“Adalyn, I don’t have all day.”

I squared my shoulders, even if my father couldn’t see me. “I thought you were calling to update me on the status of… things there. In Miami.”

“It was your mother calling.” A pause. “And I remember very clearly telling you to give all your focus to the assignment.”

“If there’s anything that I can do from here, I—”

“You’re not needed over here, Adalyn. Your assistant is handling things. And I was very specific: no remote work.”

That sliver of hope was snuffed right out, leaving me with a hollow spot in the middle of my gut. “Is that why my access to the system has been revoked?”

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “You’ll reach out to David if there’s something urgent that needs my attention. You must still have his private number from when you two… were involved.” Involved seemed to be a stretch now that I’d learned what I had. “Anything that’s not urgent, you will account and detail and record to—” He stopped himself with an irritated sigh. “Have you not read the memo?”

The one-page memo about the Green Warriors where it was not specified that the team was a recreational U10? I had. Now. A little too late apparently. “Yes, I have.”

“Then you know what to do. We’re sponsoring the team now, so think of it as an extension of the Flames. I expect to get a good story out of this. You should arrange for a few journalists to write about how much good we are doing for a rural community. Create a success story out of it.” Another sigh. “This is a waste of time. Everything should be obvious to you, Adalyn.”

I felt myself sink into the bleachers. Maybe it should be. “Speaking of the team, though, the, um, Green Warriors. It’s… not what I expected.” I waited for him to say something, and when he didn’t I felt the need to fill in the silence. “The accommodation is also less than ideal, unfortunately. The cabin is—”

“What exactly are you trying to tell me, Adalyn?”

“That…” I could have said a hundred possible things. I used to be someone who worked well under pressure, so I knew I could have come up with smart, well-reasoned arguments as to why this whole thing was… ridiculous. Way under my paycheck. But instead I blurted, “My accommodation is subpar and I’m supposed to work with a children’s team.”

A bitter burst of laughter echoed in the line. “Well. You lasted all of twenty-four hours before giving up.”

The words felt like a blow to the middle of my chest. And for whatever reason, my head decided to throw a very similar statement back at my face. Cameron’s. I don’t think you will make it a single night there.

“I don’t blame you,” my father continued. “Leaving behind the comfort of the life I’ve provided for you is not easy. So fine, I’ll send you somewhere else. Have a pick, Underwood Holdings has enough options to keep you busy until this blows over. I always believed you’d be better suited for real estate anyway.”

All the blood left my face, dropping to my feet with a swoosh. “But that’s not what I want. You know that.”

“What do you want then?” he asked me even though he knew the answer to that: the Miami Flames. My job. My life. Respect from him and David. He pressed, “Run back home? You can. Contrary to what your mother said, I have no intention of keeping you there against your will. But I can’t give you your job at the Flames back. Your face is still dangling around like we’re a bad joke.”

A bad joke.

My throat dried. My heart was pounding. Everything from that day came rushing back. I felt cold and warm, all at once. “I’m not running back home. I can do this. I will fix this.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” he said, and I hated the relief that half-hearted comment made me feel. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go search for your mother before she wreaks havoc in the office.”

And before I could say another word, the call ended.

My hand fell to my side as I blinked, staring into empty space.