Pitch Perfect(30)

This GM had ruddy cheeks and reminded her of Orville Redenbacher, which tended to leave her with an odd craving for popcorn whenever she was in his presence. He had a graying mustache that was neither thin enough nor long enough to be appealing. The hair looked like an ancient caterpillar had crawled onto his upper lip and died.

“People usually think it must be bad news when I call.”

“To be fair, you aren’t usually the bearer of happy tidings.” It didn’t escape her attention that the sports section of the Chicago Sun-Times was open on the coffee table beside a bottle of Budweiser. Her printed face smiled at the sweaty beverage.

She was going to kill Simon.

“Do you think I brought you here to give you bad news, Emmy?” Darren picked up the beer, his hand slipping slightly on the wet glass, and he took a sip. Instantly all she could smell was the distinctive odor of the brew.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Well, as much fun as I might have in tormenting you with whatever ideas you have, I’m going to put you at ease. I didn’t call you up here to fire you.”

Emmy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, and probably had been holding since she got into the elevator.

“You’re not?”

“Good Lord, no. It’s not the only thing I do. I hope people know that.”

What the GM gaveth, the GM could taketh away. And the most common thing for him to taketh was a job. Either by trade or by firing. Now that she knew she wasn’t getting axed, the next obvious question became, “Why did you call me up here, then? In the middle of a game.”

Darren set down his beer and picked up the newspaper. In spite of his assurance that her job was safe, she didn’t like the way the article looked in his hands.

“Do you think I hired you because you’re a woman?”

“No, sir,” she replied without hesitation. Technically she knew hiring her hadn’t been his idea. His assistant GM had been the one to call her in for the interview. Darren had sat in while the younger man asked the questions, but here he was taking the credit.

“Emmy, you’re not a twenty-year-old rookie from Topeka. You can call me Darren.”

She wasn’t sure she could. “Okay…Darren.”

“Do you think I hired you in spite of you being a woman?” he continued.

With slightly less certainty this time she said, “No?”

“Why do you think I hired you?”

“Because I was the best candidate for the job.”

“You’re goddamn right.”

“Thank you.”

“I got some flack for it, you know. Hiring a girl.”

Emmy didn’t love the way he used girl as if it were a dirty word, but she bit her tongue. “If I was the best person for the job, why should it matter if I’m a woman or not?”

“It doesn’t. And that’s what I said.” Darren placed the newspaper on the arm of his chair so it sat between them like a shared secret. “But it becomes hard for me to say things like that when other people make it an issue. Do you understand?”

Emmy looked at the paper. Tucker had said he couldn’t understand why she was upset about it. The piece seemed like good press to anyone else, but here was what she had feared the most. Not everyone thought the publicity was a good thing. Suddenly the harmless editorial piece was causing friction at her job, which was exactly what she was worried about.

“Not to put too fine a point on it, Emmy, but I’d rather hoped we could make it through the whole season without your gender becoming an issue for us.”

“Do you think my gender has become an issue?”

“Right now it’s just an article.” He tapped the paper, and it crinkled under his neatly trimmed nails. “I’d like to avoid it becoming a whole issue, if possible.”

“Okay.”

“You’re good at your job. Better than good. I’m watching Tucker Lloyd pitch his best game in over three years. I see the difference having you around is making.”

She hoped he didn’t see everything.

“This article doesn’t change my ability to do my job,” she said defensively. She didn’t like the story any more than he did, but she didn’t think it was fair for him to question her ability to do her job because of it.

“I didn’t say it did. My concern is that stories like this draw attention. And I want people watching Felons games for the game. Not because we’re a beacon for social equality.” He must have seen her expression grow dark because he quickly held up two hands. “I’m all for equality, please don’t misunderstand. But you have to admit, you’re the exception in this sport, not the rule. And if people start watching our games thinking we’re something we aren’t? I don’t see it doing anything but backfiring. And we don’t need that kind of bad juju hanging around us this season.”