Page 108 of Puck Fest
“And Danny?” She looks up at me. “Whatever happens with this boy, you’re going to be okay. You hear me?”
“I hear you.”
I drive back to Oakland feeling slightly less like I’m drowning.
My family’s right. I’ve been wallowing. Avoiding. Waiting for Noah to reach out instead of fighting for what we had.
Maybe Thursday’s clinic is a sign. A chance to do something productive and good. To remember who I am outside of this mess.
Or maybe it’s just a distraction.
Either way, it’s better than sitting in my apartment watching my team lose without me.
CHAPTER 27
NOAH
The job rejectionemails start coming in on day three of my search.
Thank you for your interest, but we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates.
While your qualifications are impressive, we don’t feel you’re the right fit for our organization at this time.
We appreciate your application, but the position has been filled.
I’ve applied to twelve PR jobs in two weeks. Sports teams, tech companies, non-profits. Any companies that need communications directors.
Eight rejections. Four no responses.
My head falls into my hand.
My reputation is destroyed. One Google search brings up theChicago Tribunearticle. The videos. The resignation announcement. Fucking everything.
No one wants to hire the PR director who created a PR nightmare.
The phone rings as I stare at another rejection.
I glance down. It’s Dad. We haven’t spoken much since I cleaned out my office. Our conversations have been brief, and rightly so. He’s probably still processing. Still disappointed.
I almost don’t answer.
But I do.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Noah. You busy?”
“Not particularly.”
“Good. I want to introduce you to Sam Hartley. You know, he runs Play It Forward, the youth sports nonprofit in Oakland. They do community outreach, clinics, and mentorship programs.”
“Yeah, I know who Sam Hartley is.” He’s only the best quarterback in the NFL and he happens to play for the Oakland Saints. He’s also married to Brixton Scott, front man for Sin City. I’d have to live under a rock not to know who he is.
“Right. Well, I reached out to him and told him about your situation. He’s willing to meet with you to talk about potential opportunities.”
My chest tightens. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. But you’re my son and you’re struggling. So I did it anyway.” He pauses. “The meeting’s Thursday at two at Play It Forward headquarters in Oakland. You interested?”
