Imaginary Lines (New York Leopards 3)

I wanted to believe those words so badly. I wanted to believe that we were strong enough to take on the antipathy of Loft Athletics and Today Media and the National Football League.

We would never give each other up. But that didn’t necessarily mean that we would get to keep each other, either.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Tanya called me into the office almost as soon as I got in. I’d barely had time to pour my coffee and flip open my computer before a chat box popped on the bottom of my screen. Come talk to me when you have a minute.

Tension shivered through my body. Sure, be right there.

I hopped up and curved down the aisle toward Tanya’s office. “Hi Tanya.”

She looked up from a paper crumpled in her hands, her face white as a sheet. “What is this?”

I didn’t need to see the words to know she held my article, and I stepped back warily. “It’s the article you asked me to write.”

“You say that sixty percent of the Leopards wear Loft Athletics helmets.”

“That’s right.”

“And that Loft makes sure the most promising college football players get Loft helmets in school, and then they usually stick with them.”

“Also correct.”

“And that the Leopards management is smothering reports of how ineffective the helmets are because they don’t want Loft’s sponsorship for their new training facility to fold.”

I shrugged. “That’s what the doctor I spoke to said. My sources near the team say it’s common knowledge.” I shook my head, suddenly exhausted. I’d written in a haze of exhaustion, anger and caffeine: a surefire way to obtain writer’s amnesia. “I don’t know if it was the right thing to focus on.”

She shook her head, but it seemed to me to be in admiration rather than negation. “It’s good.”

Warmth filled me, even though I hardly remembered half my words. Yet the glow was tempered by the way Tanya pursed her lips. “If it’s good, why are you frowning?”

“Are you aware of the kind of attention this article’s going to get you?”

“Me?” Mostly I’d thought about how it could improve things for Abe and all the other guys, but I wasn’t a total idiot. “Well, I’m sure some people will be pissed.”

She lifted her brows. “And those ‘some people’ are the Leopards and Loft Athletics.”

I licked my lips a little nervously. “Yes. I suppose they are.”

She smoothed her hand over the desktop. “I want you to be aware that while this piece could make your career, it could also break you.”

I got it. Publishing an article shaming team owners would make me persona non grata to them. “You wanted us to do real news.”

“I guess I’m saying that I don’t feel entirely right, making you the sacrificial lamb.”

“It’s my story.”

“I assigned it to you.”

“Tanya.” I spread my hands. “It’s the truth. It’s what’s happening. Don’t you think people deserve to know that?”

“I do.” She swiveled back and forth in her chair. “I want to include it in the print issue.”

I blinked. “But that’s gone to copy.”

“I know. But not to print.” She ticked off the instructions on her hand. “We’ll publish it online this afternoon, and then we’ll get it in the magazine. Because this is almost certainly going to be one of the top stories this quarter.”

I had to fumble behind me for the chair, and slowly lower myself into it. “It’s...an angry piece.” I swallowed, second thoughts forming slowly, and going to Today Media’s CEO. “What about Stuart Kinglsey?”