Page 12

Paige

I sit silently in my dad’s car as he talks on the phone, my mind drifting to my second session of mind-blowing fun with Easton. This time when we’d finished, he’d slapped my ass as he walked toward the treadmill and winked when I waved goodbye.

It really was that easy. We didn’t exchange numbers, didn't set up another time. It’s perfect. I can focus on my life, and he can focus on his. And when we see each other… fire-freaking-works.

“Fix it,” Dad yells, cutting into my thoughts. “This is ridiculous,” he continues and I feel for the staff member on the other end of the call. “I’ve only been gone a few months. How—” He cuts himself off and groans. “You know what? Never mind. Just fix it.”

He hangs up and his palm clenches around the phone.

“I’m sorry about that.” He cringes, sheepishly glancing my way. “As if I don’t have enough of a mess to clean up with the Storm, I now have issues coming at me from New York.”

He calls out to his driver before I’m able to respond. “Jeffrey, can you please detour to a coffee shop? I need a strong coffee.”

“Don’t they have coffee at the stadium?”

“I need something before I step a foot inside those walls.”

His shoulders tense and my brows furrow. When he asked me to come to his team's practice session today, he was upbeat and excited about it. Now you’d think the team was a burden. “What happened?”

“The new manager I hired for D’Angelo Construction just lost us one of our bigger clients because he didn’t agree with his political views. That wouldn’t generally be an issue, except that he thought it was a good idea to voice his opinion when he was drunk at a corporate function.”

“Shit.”

“Yep.”

“And that was him?”

“Hell, no. If that had been him I would have pulled over and asked you to step out of the car. You do not need to hear the words I have for that man.”

“Oh.” I cringe. “I’d hate to be him. But also…you were an ass to whoever you were talking to.”

“Oh, that was Chris.”

“Chris?” God, remind me never to get on his bad side. “Your assistant, Christine?”

“What?” His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No. That woman is a saint. I’d be struck down on the spot for even raising my voice to her. It was our COO. He’s the one that recommended Brock for the role. So he can fix the mess.”

“That’s fair. And the team?”

Before he can answer, we pull into a drive-thru coffee shop and Dad places his order. We’re silent until he has the liquid gold secured in his hands and has taken his first sip.

“Better?” I ask when he groans.

“Much. What were you asking?”

“The team? You said that was a mess too.” I don’t know why I’m so interested in the goings-on of his business, except that it feels nice to be included in this very adult conversation. Not that I don’t have business conversations—I ran my own charity back in New York—but this is different because it’s Dad’s business.

Business that Mom always referred to as a boys’ club. She said that one of the reasons they drifted apart was because he never talked about his work, making her feel like she wouldn’t understand. And now that he’s talking to me, I’m wondering if maybe he just didn’t want to talk to her at all. She can be very opinionated on matters that don’t necessarily concern her.

Dad groans again, but this time it’s not the mmm-this-tastes-good groan he had with his coffee, it’s more of a I-wish-I-didn’t-have-to-deal-with-this-shit groan. The shit being the team.

“I knew what I was getting into. I’d crunched the numbers. Done my due diligence. But I never factored in the previous fuck-face ensuring the team never made a dime from that damn TV show. He—”

“I know this is serious, Dad. But you left yourself wide open for this one… If he’s the previous fuck-face, does that make you the current one?”

Dad chuckles and his entire body physically relaxes. “Thanks, Kid. I needed that. And you bet your ass it does. And now this fuck-face”—he points to himself—"has to make some serious changes around the team. And they’re not going to like it.”

“I’m sorry, Dad. That can’t be easy.”

“It’s not. But it’s easier with you by my side.”

“And why exactly am I here? You’re not making those changes today, are you?”

“Not yet.” He laughs. “You’re here so I can show you off. And show off the guys. They’re a great team. It’s not their fault everything is chaotic behind the scenes.”

“So, you’re using me to humanize yourself before you screw them all over.”

“What?” Dad’s face drops, his expression showing he’s positively offended. “Is that really—”

“No, Dad. I don’t really think that. Though, it’s not a bad idea. It would make it harder for the players to side with whoever is working against you.”

“Wow. You are ruthless. Remind me never to cross you—” He cuts himself off and chuckles. “Wait. You cutting me out of your life makes so much more sense now.”

“Yep. Mom was the smart one. She cried. A lot.”

“While I hid my pain and remained strong.”

“Exactly.”

“Damn. Have you ever thought about running D’Angelo Construction? I’m going to need someone to take over when I retire and—”

“No, thank you,” I rush out. “But I appreciate the offer.”

A huge glass structure comes into view and beyond that, the concrete walls of the stadium. My chest tightens as we turn into a side street and pull up to the underground parking garage. I have no reason to be nervous. All I’m doing is saying hi to the team before retreating to a suite to watch them practice. Or if I’m being real, I’ll be retreating to the suite to play on my phone or read a book. Why would anyone be interested in watching a football team practice?

“We’re here,” Dad announces when the car comes to a stop near glass doors. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say honestly, but hit him with a smile because he’s excited about this. “Let’s go.”

I get it. I freaking get it.

I’ve been watching the team practice for all of ten minutes and I’m a convert. Give me all the football practices and the games because damn, these guys can move.

After we’d arrived at the stadium, Dad escorted me to a boardroom before disappearing for a few minutes. When he came back, there was a change in plans. The meet and greet would take place after their practice. Meaning I couldn’t escape early if I wanted to.

I was disappointed at first, but now… I could sit here all day.

My phone rings while I’m watching, and I have to search through my bag to find it. I haven’t needed it once since I got up to the suite. I check the screen to find it’s my old friend Cassie, the only friend that isn’t pissed at me for moving away from New York City because she’s living in Paris herself.

“Hey babe.”

“Paigey, girl. How are you?” she yells above the background noise and I wince. “I’m at the club; hang on, I’ll close the door.” I laugh as a loud bang echoes through my ear like she dropped the phone, and then seconds later the chaos softens and she’s back on the line.

“Better?”

“Much. But you could have done that before calling me.”

“Very true. Only I never think about those things. You know that. Anyway, I’m calling because I came across a very risqué photo shoot in a well-known magazine featuring my hot bestie.”

“You saw it in Paris?”

“I have a subscription. But that’s not what’s important. Paigey got her beautiful tits out.”

“I did.” I laugh while my cheeks warm. “And I’m obsessed with those photos,” I admit.

“Me too. I framed one in the club.”

“You did not.” My jaw drops because I wouldn’t put it past her.

“You bet your ass I did. You’ll forever be immortalized on the walls of a Paris nightclub.”

“Thank you?” I think. I mean, I agree it’s a freaking great photo, but I’m not sure I’m ready for it to be on display.

Cass laughs. “Don’t worry. I used the image without your face.”

“Noooo. How will I ever be famous if you cut off my recognizable assets?”

“Flash them; they’ll soon figure it out.”

“Oh, Cass. I’ve missed you.”

“Same, girl. Same. How’s Californian life?”

I lean back in my chair, putting my feet up on the armrest in front of me while I fill her in. “I’m currently in a suite watching a football team practice.”

“Oh God. Do you need me to save you? I wouldn’t mind saying hello to your dad while I’m there.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me, and yet, if she’d asked if I needed saving before I got here, I would have begged her for it, despite knowing she thinks my dad is hot. I feel the same about her brother so I can’t complain.

“You need to see this. If it wasn’t my dad’s team and I wasn’t already sleeping with someone else, I would be all over these guys. They’re such…men. Rough and rugged and… I don’t know. That’s the best way to describe it. Nothing like the businessmen I usually spend time with.”

“Rough and rugged, you say?”

“Yep.”

“Get on top of that.”

“I can’t.” I laugh. “Didn’t you hear me… I’m kind of already sleeping with someone.”

“Kind of? Are you married?”

“No.”

“Engaged?” Her voice rises to a mocking level. She knows I’m not.

“We’re not even together.”

“Then I don’t see a problem. If he’s like any of the men I know, he’s probably out there fucking someone else as we speak.”

“He has a kid.”

“Oh, my mistake. That definitely means he doesn’t juggle women.” She laughs, her tone dripping in sarcasm. “Are you crazy? Have you had the ‘let’s be exclusive’ chat?”

“No, and I don’t want to have that chat. But not because I want to fuck around. Because it’s casual and I want it to stay that way.”

“Ugh, fine. I guess I can fly over and do it for you.”

“Do what?”

“Screw the guys on the team. You can live vicariously through me.”

“You’re so kind.”

“I know. That’s the type of friend I am. Speaking of friends… Are those bitches still giving you grief?” I laugh, but it’s not even remotely funny. They’re not giving me grief. They’ve just cut me out of their lives. And while it hurt at first, the regret I felt didn’t stem from losing my friends, but the realization that I’d done the same thing to my dad. He left my mom even though he loved her, and I cut him off. I left New York, even though I love it there, and now… New York has done the same to me. If you’re not seen at all the parties or keeping up with the lunches, you’re no longer a part of the group.

I chat with Cass until my dad arrives about halfway through the practice. And when it’s almost over, we make our way down to the field.

No one pays us any mind as we step onto the turf—the guys all off in their own conversations—and it gives me a chance to check them out now that I’m close. God, there are some hotties on this team. Cass would love it here. She’d—

I freeze mid-thought as my eyes lock on a face I’m all too familiar with, his expression bordering on annoyance, like it usually does. I’d smile if things between us weren’t about to completely blow up. And not in a good way.

Easton’s a goddamn football player. Not just any football player. A guy on my dear ole dad’s team.

And I’m fucked.

How the hell didn’t I know that? I mean, I haven’t bothered to learn anything about my father’s recently acquired team but that’s not the point. Easton is mind-blowingly hot. I’m confused as to why there aren’t more people talking about him. Or has my head been so far up my ass with my own problems that I missed it. I really wish I had Internet access right now.

How could this happen? I’ve joked to myself many times before that Easton is everywhere, but this is next-level.

I can’t believe we decided to hook up because our lives were messy and complicated while having no idea our connection was about to became a shitstorm of epic proportions. A storm . How fitting.

Dad says something into a microphone and before I know it, all eyes are on him as he brings the crowd to attention. I slip in behind the coaching staff and try to pay attention, but my thoughts are so scrambled it’s a struggle.

I don’t want our time to be over. I’ve always had a pretty healthy sex life, but Easton is a god. He’s possessive and demanding and sure of himself.

And he doesn’t play games. The way he…

Dammit, I’m doing it again. Now is not the time. Especially considering he’s going to see me in about thirty seconds and then our relationship—whatever it is—will be over.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I’m shuffled to my dad’s side, a wide—albeit fake—smile on my face.

Dad introduces me to the team and I do my thing, humanizing him, before tuning out, not paying attention to anything he says beyond that. Yet somehow, I manage to tune back in the very moment he says the words I was dreading.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that my daughter is off-limits.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder as if to highlight I’m the daughter he’s referring to. “She’s here because I wanted to show you all off. And so she’d believe me when I say I’m kind of a big deal.”

The guys laugh while I force another smile, making the stupid mistake of scanning the crowd.

I try hard not to look for him, but like a beacon, my eyes meet Easton’s stare a second before he turns away. And it’s impossible to miss that he’s fuming, if not also a little confused. I’m sure he thinks I betrayed him somehow. Like I knew.

But I’m not stupid. I know better than to get involved with anyone connected to my father.

Only now that it’s already happened, it’s going to be harder to take it back.