“Yes, Rocky, I dig. Thanks for the warning.” She didn’t bother waiting for him to speak. She hung up, glanced around, and said, “Did you all hear that?”

The five PR department employees and Sydney all nodded.

“Great. I hope you’ll back me up.” She picked up Sydney’s phone again, dialed 911, and asked to speak to the Las Vegas Police Department.

AN HOUR LATER, Rocky Hill was in custody again for threatening Kendall. Rod was on his way back to San Francisco. He’d be fired as soon as he returned to the office and Kendall could get the company property in his possession back. Kendall walked into a crowded conference room and stood behind the chair at the head of the table.

“I’d like to thank Sydney and the PR group for their assistance with what’s going to happen this afternoon and tomorrow morning.” She glanced around at the thirty people. “I have scheduled a press conference for later today. We’d like to get out in front of the information as much as we can, and I’d like as many of you as possible to be on hand for this.” She saw nods from most of the employees. The front office guys looked on stonily. She knew all hell would break loose when she fired Rod, but it was unavoidable.

She pulled in a long breath. “Rocky Hill allegedly assaulted his girlfriend in the lobby of a hotel in Las Vegas a few hours ago. She is in the hospital. He was arrested. I have cut Rocky Hill from the team.” She waited for the gasps (and some applause) to die down. “Due to his threats against my safety, he is back in jail. He is not allowed in the building under any circumstances. The San Francisco Police Department will be coordinating security here and at the stadium until further notice. There will be more information as it is available.”

“Our offensive line—” the offensive coordinator sputtered.

“You’ll need to find another guard. I will not reconsider.” She glanced down at her notes. “The Miners’ owner will be in attendance at the press conference today as well, which will be held in the auditorium at five o’clock. We’ll make a statement and answer questions.” She glanced at the offensive coordinator and the head coach. “If you could possibly work on bringing in some guys for a tryout tomorrow or Friday, I’d appreciate that.”

“We have a game on Sunday. In Atlanta.”

“I realize that. Let’s plug in Rocky’s backup and see if there might be someone available on the West Coast, for starters.” She glanced around the room again. “Any questions? I’ll be in my office if you need to talk with me.” She gathered up her notes, her tablet, and a bottle of water and walked out of the conference room.

Her phone rang again seconds later. She glanced at the screen long enough to see it was Drew. Oh, God. She had a million things to do, and virtually no time to accomplish them in. Plus, she felt guilty. She should have been there when he woke up from his surgery. He was probably so hurt and angry with her, and she deserved it.

She swallowed hard and clicked “talk” on the screen.

“Drew?”

“Hi Kendall, it’s actually Drew’s mom, Bonnie. Do you have a moment to talk?”

“Is he okay? How is he?”

Kendall knew she should have asked how Bonnie was and the usual small-talk pleasantries when someone she’d never met called, but Drew’s mom on the phone . . . maybe he couldn’t speak for himself. Maybe it didn’t go well. Her heart moved into her throat. A cold fist clutched her stomach.

“He’ll be fine,” Bonnie said. “He’s asking for you.”

She closed her eyes with relief and concentrated on taking a breath so her knees wouldn’t buckle.

“I’m so sorry I’m not there yet. Things here are not good, and I have to fix a lot of problems before I can get back on a plane,” Kendall said. “I–I’m so sorry.” She held in the sigh of frustration and anger. She was trying to concentrate on the eleven-hundred things that needed to happen in the next hour, but right now, she needed a few minutes to compose herself. She wasn’t going to get it. She headed toward her office while conversations swirled around her. “Is there any way I could possibly talk with him?”

“He’s not allowed to use his cell phone in the room, so I’m outside of the hospital right now. Would you like his room number? There’s a phone in there.”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Kendall skirted her desk, plunked down in the desk chair, and grabbed a pen and the first piece of paper that lay atop her desk: the receipt from today’s turkey and provolone sandwich. Bonnie gave her Drew’s room number and the hospital’s main number.

“I hope we’ll get to meet you soon,” Bonnie said.

“I hope so too, Mrs. McCoy.”

“Call me Bonnie,” she said. She let out a sigh. “The doctor said Drew might be in rehab for as long as a year.”

Hot tears rose in Kendall’s eyes. In other words, the injury was a hell of a lot more than just the labrum tear and was most likely the end for Drew’s NFL career.

The Miners’ PR director breezed through the door of her office and said, “Hey, Kendall, I need to talk with you—oh. I didn’t see you’re on the phone.”

Kendall made the arm motion that meant “I’ll be with you in a minute.” She heard Bonnie say, “It sounds like you’re pretty busy. Maybe we should talk later.”

“I will call Drew as soon as possible. I promise I will be there as soon as I can get out of here and get on a plane,” Kendall said. The misery of being somewhere she didn’t want to be right now and grief over Drew’s situation threatened to engulf her. “Bonnie, again, thanks so much for calling me.”

“I’m happy to do it, Kendall. We’ll look forward to seeing you soon.”

Two hours later, Kendall had spent a few minutes in the ladies’ room with a bottle of Visine, a hairbrush, and a lipstick. She was currently standing in front of an auditorium crammed with a couple of hundred media professionals, most of the Miners’ front office and coaching staff, and she glanced down at the notes Sydney had put in her hand fifteen minutes before.

She read the same statement she’d made in front of the gathered Miners’ staff earlier today and added the information that the Miners had been in touch with Rocky Hill’s victim and were assisting her with advocacy and medical care. In other words, the Miners were advised by their brand-new team attorney that they should offer Hill’s now ex-girlfriend a settlement and the assistance of an attorney to file a civil suit against Mr. Hill to recoup the costs of her medical care, but Kendall wasn’t going to mention that in public.

Kendall saw the file of the security camera footage from the hotel earlier that afternoon. It made her want to vomit, and then she wanted to scream. Even if she’d cut his ass when she originally wanted to, she wasn’t sure it would have helped, but now it was all about protecting the franchise from liability.

“The Miners have also made a donation to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence. Our organization is committed to doing what we can to assist women and children affected by domestic violence in our community.”

Those words were so empty. If the league was really committed to ending domestic violence, they’d stop signing guys who had been arrested and charged with a domestic violence related crime as early as college. One thing’s for sure: She wouldn’t sign a guy like this again. The team had known he had an arrest when they’d made him an offer. He swore he’d never do it again.

Words were cheap.

Kendall glanced out over the assembled crowd. “Are there any questions?”

There were questions, waving hands, and shouting from all over the room.

“Why didn’t you cut Hill after his last DV arrest?”

“Did anyone in your organization know he’d been arrested on a DV complaint in college?”

“Did the Miners require Hill to take anger management classes or work with a therapist after his last arrest?”