Page 74 of The Off Limits Captain
“You were at the farm. You saw how Ryan handles family, how the organization supports players through personal crisis. That’s important context.”
I cross one ankle over the other. “I’m aware.”
“Good. Sometimes when we’re focused on one angle, we miss the broader story.”
“What angle do you think I’m focused on?”
Jennifer leans in slightly, lowering her voice like we are both reasonable women helping each other avoid a mess. “Ryan’s leadership, yes. But also the Stampede’s values. The way we take care of our people.”
Our people.
Jennifer is folding me into the frame now. Making proximity feel like trust. Making trust feel like debt.
“You’re asking me to soften it,” I say.
Jennifer’s eyes widen a fraction. “I’m asking you to be fair.”
“Fair to Ryan, or fair to the organization?”
“Those are not separate here.”
“They are to Ryan.”
That one lands.
Jennifer’s smile stays in place, but the air behind it changes.
“Ryan is the organization in many ways,” she says. “His story reflects us. The helicopter, the farm, the way Bob Hartley made sure he could be with his mother. That matters. Readers should understand that culture.”
“Readers should understand what happened.”
“Exactly.”
“Then stop telling me where to look.”
Silence.
Short, sharp, enough.
“We respect your integrity,” Jennifer says.
I smile. I can feel how little warmth is in it. “Do you?”
“We would not have given you that level of access otherwise.”
“You gave it because you were afraid of what I would write without it.”
Jennifer sits back.
There. Finally.
The mask does not fall. It never does with someone this good. But it slips enough for me to see the work underneath.
“Access is built on trust,” Jennifer says.
“Access is built on usefulness. Trust is what people call it when both sides still like the trade.”
Jennifer’s mouth tightens.
