Page 47 of Best Kept Secret (The New York Thunder #3)

MILLIE

D on’t tell him you don’t like sports. Don’t tell him you don’t like sports. Don’t tell him ? —

“So how much do you know about SNN, Millie?” Patrick, the Director of Talent Management and Acquisitions offers me a smile as he looks up from my resume.

He’s nice. A little dorky. Definitely not intimidating.

Dressed in an SNN hoodie and jeans, he’s relaxed back in his chair, one leg crossed, his sneakered foot resting on his opposite knee.

In fact, as I glance around the open-plan office on the forty-ninth floor of the building in Rockefeller Center, this whole place screams casual, with ping pong and foosball tables interwoven between desks and focus pods, and couches where there are actually people lying down with their laptops resting on their chests.

And here I am in a goddamn pencil skirt and heels. I’ve never felt more out of place.

“Um—” I swallow around a lump of nerves. “I know SNN is the biggest sports news and entertainment broadcast in the country. And that your quarterly magazine holds the record for the highest selling print publication in the United States for the last five years running.”

Patrick’s smile grows. “You’ve done your research. ”

“Research is my specialty. I’m kind of a nerd like that.” I shrug with a self-deprecating laugh.

“Han told me you’re Dallas Shaw’s sister?” He quirks a brow.

“Yeah, but please don’t hold that against me.” I offer a wry smile.

He laughs, and I relax a little.

“Is hockey your sport of choice?”

Oh, great, here we go with the sports questions.

“Um, it’s okay…” I shrug. “Although I grew up around football, being from Texas.”

“You like football?”

“I mean… yeah…?”

Patrick’s brows knit together, and I know it’s likely due to the uncertainty in my tone. I keep my chin held high, but the longer he remains silent, his gaze laser focused on me, the more I’m sure he can see straight through me.

“I don’t like sports,” I admit so quickly the words are all strung together in one big mess of sounds. Snapping my mouth shut, I blink at him, briefly wondering if I can possibly pretend like I just said something else, or nothing at all. Yes, Millie, make the poor guy think you’re going nuts.

Patrick looks from me, down to my resume, and back again. “You… don’t like sports?”

Oh, my God, Millie. One job. You had one goddamn job.

With a resigned sigh, I shake my head because there’s really no use in lying now.

“No. I don’t. Not at all. In fact, whenever I’m forced to go to a hockey game to watch my brother, I spend most of the time playing Candy Crush on my phone,” I confess with a grimace.

Patrick glances at his cell phone as the screen lights up. He holds it in the air, standing. “Sorry, Millie. Do you mind if I take this?”

“Go ahead.” Might as well delay the inevitable we’ll be in touch spiel for as long as I can.

I didn’t expect an interview at SNN so quickly.

When Hannah told me about the possible position last night, I was expecting at least a few weeks’ turnaround, if anything.

But then she literally called me an hour ago, told me she spoke to Patrick this morning, and that he was so interested to meet with me before he flies home to Los Angeles this afternoon.

I was in my pajamas, rotting on the couch, watching Ten Things I Hate About You at eleven a.m., embracing my sudden unemployment like a true champ. Far from interview-ready.

“Sorry about that, Millie.”

I startle from my thoughts, looking up to see Patrick move back to his seat.

“That’s okay.”

He looks over my resume again. “Here’s the thing,” he begins.

Here we go… Maybe I can start selling pictures of my feet.

“The last person I hired was a huge sports guy. Played on his high school varsity baseball team. Studied sports management at Duke. Ticked all the boxes. He was amazing...”

My shoulders fall.

Patrick flashes me a droll glance, continuing, “On paper.”

My brows tug together.

“Turns out, he was only interested in the benefits that come with working at SNN and not actually working at SNN.”

“Oh…” I’m a little confused if I’m honest, but I say nothing more.

“To be honest, I don’t really care if you do or don’t like sports.

I’m more interested in whether or not you can manage multiple priorities at once, if you can work under pressure and with minimal supervision, if you can maintain professionalism and discretion around some of the top athletes in the industry.

Not freak out if Joey Tanner walked in here for an interview. ”

“I can do all of that,” I say with a slightly arrogant smile. “And I don’t even know who Joey Tanner is, so the athletes are safe around me. ”

Patrick chuckles, studying me a moment before standing again and holding his hand out. “Let’s do it.”

I stand, shaking his proffered hand. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “I think you’ll be a great fit. And Hannah speaks very highly of you and… I know I probably shouldn’t say this—” He makes a point of looking around, holding a hand up to the side of his mouth as if to tell me a secret. “She’s probably my best employee,” he whisper-yells.

“She’s… pretty amazing.” I smile.

“So, when can you start?”

My eyes widen. “Oh, wow. Um… I mean, I can start today.”

Patrick snickers, and I don’t know if he realizes I’m dead-ass. “Let me speak with HR,” he says, looking down at his phone. “We’ll get the paperwork together and send it through to you. We can work out a start date from there.”

I nod, wringing my hands together in front of me, trying so damn hard to maintain my professionalism when really, it’s taking all I have not to launch myself at the man and hug him to death. Thankfully, before it can come to that, we’re interrupted by Hannah.

“Hi,” she sings, smiling sweetly, looking between Patrick and me. “So, how’d it go?”

I press my lips together between my teeth, suppressing my smile.

Patrick rolls his eyes indulgently. “Yes, you were right, and she’s great. I’m going to have Leslie from HR draw up the contract.”

Hannah squeals, clapping her hands together before pulling me in for a hug, and I can’t help but laugh, her happiness infectious.

“Well, I’m going to leave this whole… situation to the two of you,” Patrick says, stepping around us and give a wide berth. “Millie, it was a pleasure. HR will be in touch.” He looks at Hannah. “And you need to get that plan to me by two p.m.—don’t forget. ”

“Oh, pfft,” Hannah huffs, dismissing him before turning back to me. “I’m so excited!”

I, at least, have the self-control to wait for Patrick to disappear up the stairs and into one of the glass offices that line the mezzanine level before totally freaking out with Hannah.

“Oh, my God, Hannah.” I hug her, pulling back to look her in her eyes. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey, I only got you in the door.” She shakes her head. “Don’t let his Adam Brody persona fool you. He’s actually a real hard ass. I just didn’t want to tell you that last night and freak you out. You must’ve done something right.”

I grin, suddenly proud of myself.

“Have you got lunch plans?” Hannah asks, checking the time on her phone.

“No. I’m unemployed, remember?”

“Not anymore.” Hannah beams, nudging me with her shoulder. “Give me a sec, and I’ll just go grab my purse.”

Hannah and I grab a sandwich and find a table out in the plaza. The sun is out today, and it’s surprisingly warm. I remove my coat and drape it over the back of my chair, taking a seat, just in time for Hannah’s interrogation.

“So, how’s it going?” Her eyebrows waggle over the top of her sunglasses.

My cheeks heat, but it has nothing to do with the sunshine.

Pressing my lips together, I shake my cold pressed juice, considering my response.

But then, it all gets the better of me and I practically gush.

“Oh, my God, Hannah, it’s perfect. I’m—” I release a wistful sigh, looking out over the greenery dotting the plaza. “It’s… everything and more.”

Chin resting on her hands, Hannah’s smile beams across at me. “So, you guys are, like, together together?”

“We haven’t defined anything, but he told me he loves me.” I’m suddenly bashful as I think back to the night Logan told me that he was in love with me, and how I gave him my virginity.

“Oh, my God!” Hannah squeals, and I giggle. But then she drops the bomb I’m not ready for. “Does Dallas know?”

A brick of guilt settles in my stomach, and I avert my gaze down at my sandwich, suddenly no longer hungry. “No.”

Hannah makes a face. “Is he going to lose his shit?”

“Probably.” I heave another sigh.

Silence ensues, but then Hannah shrugs a shoulder. “Let him lose it,” she says. “He’ll get over it.”

I smile because she’s right. He will get over it.

And if he doesn’t, then he can get the fuck under it and stay there.

For the first time in my life, I’m in love, and as much as I love my brother, if he can’t be happy for me, if he wants to take some stupid promise I made to him when I was sixteen years old and use it against me, then screw him.

“How’s everything going with you?” I ask pointedly.

A shadow clouds Hannah’s face and she swallows roughly, looking down at her soda and playing with the paper straw. “Can I be honest with you?”

My brow furrows from her question and I reach across, touching her hand. “Of course.”

“No judgement?” She quirks a brow.

I shake my head. “No judgement.”

Rolling her lips, Hannah looks away a moment.

“I hate that I can’t stop thinking about him,” she says quickly, turning back to me.

“Like… I know I can’t—” She stops her words, shaking her head vehemently.

“But I was falling in love with him, and then suddenly—” She sighs, shoulders sagging with dejection.

“It’s just really hard to force yourself to hate someone, to pretend like he never even existed in your life, when you thought that he was going to be your happy ever after… ”

I lick my lips, considering my words because the last thing I want to do is accuse her of anything. “You haven’t been in contact with him, have you? ”

She shakes her head again, vehemently. “I blocked his number.”

“Good,” I assure her with a squeeze of her hand.

“He’s been emailing me at work, but I’m not responding. I can ask IT to block his contact, but then I’d have to explain why…” She swallows hard again, continuing, “He… he came to my apartment the other night.”

My eyes bug. “Hannah.”

“I pretended I wasn’t home,” she adds quickly. “I mean, his poor unsuspecting wife is pregnant for fuck’s sake. And he’s coming to my apartment in the middle of the goddamn night?”

My eyes narrow as I process everything that she’s telling me. “Hannah, this sounds borderline dangerous.”

She huffs a sigh, throwing her hands up. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Can you tell your dad?” I shrug.

“No!”

Startled by the abruptness of her response, I rear back a touch, gaping at her.

“Sorry.” She softens a touch, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I just… my father can’t find out.”

Suddenly it all makes sense. “Hannah, is he on the team?”

She shakes her head, but I’m not sure if I believe her. I also don’t want to overstep, so I let it go, despite my mind working a mile a minute. “Maybe you could get Logan to talk to him.”

“I don’t want to get Logan involved any more than he already is.”

“I’m worried for you,” I admit.

She offers me a half smile and a noncommittal shrug of her shoulder as she sags back in her chair. “It’ll be fine.”

And I would love to say that I believe her, but sadly, I have my doubts.