“That’s exactly how I feel.” My heart won’t stop pounding because having any magazine tell me they want me to write my dream articles is amazing let alone Sports-freaking-Illustrated.
“Here’s the catch,” Greg says.
Of course. Too good to be true. “Catch?”
“You mentioned in your email you’re looking for permanent work. This would be a maximum of a couple of articles over a few months unless closet doors start flying open at a rapid rate.”
“There are always other, less popular sports with gay athletes. I could approach them too and see if anyone’s interested in being featured. I think as long as the articles are positive and factual and paint the lives of gay and lesbian athletes the same way we would any hetero athlete, others will sign up.”
“We’d definitely be interested in those if these first few articles do well. We promise to pay you well for the articles we do run, but if we’re talking a permanent arrangement here, that’s not something we can offer right now.”
“That’s completely fine,” I say quickly. What they’re offering is more than I ever expected, and it’ll give me time to line something else up.
“But, we do have a separate role that might fit what you’re looking for. It’s covering baseball.”
My eyes widen. “Listening.”
“On the West Coast. Based out of L.A.”
“Oh.” My heart sinks. Taking a job on the West Coast would mean the end of me and Ollie.
My conscious yells at me that it’s a permanent job, and I’m not exactly in a position to be fussy. And it’s Sports Illustrated for fuck’s sake. Ollie would understand. He’s put his career ahead of everything else for six years.
“You need some time to think about it,” Greg says.
“Yeah. Uh, yeah. I’m not sure about relocating right now.”
“I don’t have to tell you the spot won’t be available for long, but you’ve impressed us, and we want to work with you.”
Greg’s right. I can’t turn it down. This is my foot in the door to one of the most reputable sports magazines in the world.
I nod. “I’ll get back to you by tomorrow.”
“Good man.” Greg stands. “Until then, ask that boyfriend of yours if he’s in.”
So many sex jokes ping in my brain, but I remain professional and only grin like an idiot a little bit.
I shake his hand. “Thank you so much for this opportunity.”
When I leave his office, I take out my phone and stare at the text Ava sent me a few hours ago. We had lunch last week, and she mentioned a job available with the team.
Ava: I spoke to the GM, and the media job’s yours if you want it. I know it’s not journalism but it’s still in sports.
The Dragons want me. Sports Illustrated wants me. One keeps me in New York and super close to Ollie. The other is something I’ve wanted my entire adult life but sends me across the other side of the country.
I’ve never had a serious relationship before because I keep moving for my job, but I also never felt what I do for Ollie with any of the other guys I’ve dated. It’s been easy to choose my career over them. It’s not so easy when it comes to Ollie.
He’s … everything.
So, do I follow my head or my heart? My head tells me it’s stupid to turn down a promising job for a guy. My heart tells me to stop being greedy in the career department. Sports Illustrated wants my articles. At least three of them and more if I do a good job. And I can still write freelance.
With any luck, more gay athletes will start coming out now, and they’ll want to work with me too after I do these articles.
Fuck, sometimes I wish I wasn’t so rational, because I can’t shake the feeling of possible regret when I turn down the job and then Ollie and I break up.
What if you don’t break up?
Full job security with a company I’ve been chasing for years or a low-paying media job writing fluff for my boyfriend’s hockey team.
Ugh. I sound like a puck bunny. I gasp. I’m Ollie’s puck bunny! I chuckle at myself, because even though I’m joking, I don’t actually mind the sound of that. Moving to L.A. doesn’t feel right. Leaving Ollie would be like leaving my heart here and only taking a shell of a human with me. I’d be taking my dream job but giving up my ultimate fantasy.
Deep down, I believe Ollie walked away with a piece of my heart that very first night in Boston, but is it enough?
I have no idea what to do.
The buzzing atmosphere around the stadium is because it’s game seven in the last round of the Stanley Cup, but there’s another reason adrenaline’s fueling the nerves in the pit of my stomach.