Page 15 of Fair Trade (New York Monarchs #2)

thirteen

I’ve done a spectacular job of ignoring my new boss.

I mean, I’ve emailed him an unhealthy number of times in the last two weeks in regard to the deals I have in the pipeline, but aside from that, I’ve been able to steer clear of the angel of darkness.

That is, until I walk into a meeting I scheduled with my assistant general managers and find him sitting at the head of the conference table.

I swallow a shocked gasp and move to the seat beside him as if this was planned ahead of time, nodding in his direction without making eye contact. I ignore his displeased “and good morning to you, too,” and as he types at a furious pace on his laptop, I keep my eyes trained on the door.

I need to be on my A game today.

The rest of the team files in, and I remember why I was dreading this meeting long before I realized Nick would be chaperoning it.

Mark Webber, James Ashton, and Richard Pembroke walk in, offering their hearty hellos, while I try to remind my nether regions that I’m here to inform my team of some unpopular shakeups, not to ogle Nick, who looks incredible in a gray suit.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Thanks for coming. I’ve provided some coffee and tea on the table by the entrance, and please help yourselves to the pastries.”

Mark and James make a beeline for the muffins while Richard takes the seat across from me. He forgoes any refreshments, instead opting to lean back in his chair, studying me.

He’s closer to Arthur’s age, having been the general manager of another team for almost forty years.

I don’t know why he agreed to come out of retirement to be an AGM here, but the way he’s looking at me now makes me feel like I’m an inconsequential steppingstone on his path to taking back my office.

I try for small talk. “No coffee for you this morning, Richard?”

He offers a practiced smile, one that comes after many years of being in front of the camera as the general manager of one of the biggest baseball teams on the West Coast. “Finished my second cup before the sun was up, kid.”

Nick’s loud typing stops abruptly, and it takes everything in me to act like I don’t notice. Just how I’m acting like Richard calling me “kid” when I’m his boss isn’t unprofessional or downright inappropriate.

Richard turns toward Nick, offering him a much more sincere smile. “Didn’t know you’d be sitting in on the meeting today, Nick. Something big happening that I don’t know about?” He looks in my direction, as if I’m his lowly intern who has somehow mixed up his calendar.

Nick speaks, pulling Richard’s attention away from me. “It’s Mr. Stonehaven. And you are?”

My eyes almost bug out of my face.

I may be wishing I had a voodoo doll of Richard, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that this man’s name is synonymous with baseball stardom since the team he previously managed has the most consecutive World Series wins in the last decade.

Richard’s cheeks redden as he pitifully attempts to play Nick’s words off as a joke. “Oh, c’mon. I know you inherited the team from your grandfather, but a good businessman would never enter a meeting not knowing the name of everyone around the table, am I right?”

Nick doesn’t miss a beat. “Only the ones worth knowing.” His eyes quickly flash toward me before he looks down and closes his laptop. “Luisa, when you’re ready.”

“Right.” I stand a bit too quickly, sending my chair rolling behind me.

I quickly wrangle it back and push it into place.

I catch Nick’s confused stare and follow it down to my feet.

I’m wearing flat Mary Janes. The shoes I often opt for, rather than my usual power heels, when I’m meeting with my AGMs.

I ignore Nick’s potential disapproval and make my way toward the presentation I have set up on the screen at the other end of the conference table.

It truly isn’t necessary for what I have to say, but I feel more comfortable having the numbers and proof behind me as I make my case for the changes I have in mind.

James and Mark take their seats next to Richard and settle in with their array of morning snacks.

“So,” I begin nervously. Fuck. Why am I nervous?

I practiced this last night. I know the information like the back of my hand.

This isn’t a spelling bee; it’s baseball.

It’s in my blood. I need to start acting like it.

And I will, the second my backbone decides to come back to me after taking an apparent coffee break.

“Oh, Luisa, before you begin.” Nick stops my panic spiral. “I know this space isn’t massive, but if you could please be sure to project your voice. And while you’re at it… remember to enunciate your words.”

I suck in a shocked breath.

He didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

But as he leans back and steeples his hands over what I know to be a set of rock-hard abs, eyeing me expectantly, I realize he did.

He’s taunting me with the conversation we had that first night at the bar.

Here. Now. At work.

Right as I’m about to present to my subordinates. All of whom are older and much more experienced than me. I push down on the insecurity that had me overpreparing for this meeting in the first place and focus on the smug asshole sitting at the other end of the table.

The recklessness of his actions has me seeing red.

I straighten as I feel my eyes turn to slits in his direction.

I tap on the touch screen more forcefully than necessary as I begin.

“I’ll try my best, Mr. Stonehaven. But in any case, you’re free to switch seats if that suits you.

” I pause as he bites down on a slight smile.

“And I know you’re new to the sports world, so when you see the letters M-L-B on the presentation, know that it stands for Major League Baseball. ” I nod patronizingly.

The satisfied grin that overtakes his face has no place in the boardroom, and yet it’s the one thing I must have needed to get my head on straight before I dove into my presentation.

By the end of the meeting, everyone, including Richard, is on board with the idea that we need to find a new shortstop, given that our player is currently hiding an injury from us. Clearly our rookie doesn’t understand that his strength and conditioning coaches don’t miss a thing, and neither do I.

They all file out of the room as I start to gather my things.

I’m riding a high so powerful I don’t even care that Nick has made no attempts to move from his seat as he stares me down.

“Impressive work, Luisa.”

“I know.” I don’t try to downplay how good I’m feeling.

He chuckles to himself. “Although I do have a few questions.”

I grab my purse and hoist it over my shoulder. “Okay, so a shortstop is the baseball player who is positioned—”

He rolls his eyes as he interrupts. “I know what a… never mind. Care to explain why you let that Richard guy call you a kid?”

I smirk. “Oh, so you do know his name.”

“Answer the question.”

I shake my head. “He’s old-school. Probably still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that his new boss not only holds his prior job title but is a woman less than half his age.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Understood. Now tell me why the fuck any of that should be your problem.”

My jaw drops slightly and he tsks.

“Wouldn’t do that while you’re alone with me, Angel.

” I stiffen and my mouth snaps shut. “And you’re welcome, by the way.

Seems like any time I reference the night that shall not be mentioned, you somehow are able to refocus your wrath toward me and hone it into your work.

Something we can discuss during your quarterly review, so no need to dive into all that now. ”

“Are you—you did that on purpose?” I seethe.

He waves my rage away like it’s something he’s become accustomed to.

“And the shoes. Can I get an answer on where the hell those came from and why you aren’t wearing your usual dagger-like heels?

” He rubs his chest absentmindedly, and I think back to when I shoved my heeled foot into it.

“I have my suspicions, but I’d like to hear directly from you. ”

I cross my arms over my chest as I lean on the table. “Humor me.”

He waves his hand up and down my body. “It makes you look shorter, at least shorter than the men who attended this meeting.” He studies my face as he continues.

“Maybe in an attempt to seem, what? Less threatening? Docile, even?” He huffs out a dry laugh.

“Good luck with that, by the way. Everyone saw how you stared me down, the damn owner of this team, without breaking a sweat. So I don’t think that shtick is fooling anyone, sweetheart. ”

“Enough with the names.” And with perceiving me way too clearly.

He puts his hands up as he nods. “My apologies. You’re right. We are in our workplace. Must keep up professional attitudes and all that.” He pauses. “But you never stopped wearing heels around me. Care to at least answer that?”

I must be coming down from the adrenaline rush. There is no other way to explain why I decide to answer him with the truth. “I think it’s safe to say that we both know you’re not like most men who work here.”

“I’m not like most men. Period.”

“Ah, yes. The ego stroke that you most definitely did not need.” I push my shoulder past him as I make my way to the door.

“One last thing, Luisa.”

I stop and don’t know whether to groan or smile at how hard he’s working to keep me in this room. I turn to face him. “Final question, and then I must get back to work, Mr. Stonehaven.” I sigh, acting like it’s a hardship to be in his presence.

He ignores my use of his last name as his eyes turn serious.

“Next time someone is sitting in your seat, you tell them to get the fuck out. Don’t you dare let anyone question your rightful place or be afraid to put them in theirs.

” Confused, I look over at the table. He points to the seat he occupied at the head of the table. “Including me.”

He grabs his things as I stay rooted in place, only stopping momentarily by my side before he heads out. “Especially me.”