Page 22 of Fair Trade (New York Monarchs #2)
eighteen
I’ve officially reached my breaking point.
Luisa and I have danced around the obvious long enough, and today, that comes to an end.
I want her. In a bone-deep way that I’ve never yearned for another woman.
Seeing her command the conference room and dreaming about her are no longer cutting it.
And having to spend hours with women who don’t hold a candle to my Angel’s beauty is downright torturous.
When I learned of the financial mess my grandfather left when he threw money like a madman at the players and staff, I quickly realized I was about to put in some major schmoozing to make deals that would help finance the Monarchs for the rest of the season.
Apparently, it’s frowned upon to write a check yourself.
Instead, I’ve shaken hands and kissed the cheeks of the right people and am now about ready to announce Monarchs Live.
A streaming channel where viewers will be able to get early access content on our players, watch games, and get behind-the-scenes interviews and announcements before they go out to the general public.
Other major teams have similar platforms, and this allows us to have a separate flow of revenue.
One we don’t have to share with the other MLB teams as part of the spending pot, which will allow us to perform at the level we’re at without getting fined for overspending.
Half of business is getting into the mindset, and no one ever wants to hand over cold, hard cash to a single man who could potentially steal their wife out from under them.
The mental game is as important as the business itself.
Early on, I learned from a mentor that it is crucial to always arrive with a date on your arm.
Someone who can entertain the spouses of the investors I need to deal with and, in the process, make me seem like less of a threat.
Marla chose the women strategically. Women who were influential but still working toward their desired level of recognition. I get the bullshit date I need for appearance’s sake, and they get the publicity and internet chatter they crave.
In the past I had no problem mixing business with pleasure, but ever since I laid eyes on Luisa álvarez, my body only answers to her.
I end each date with a side hug, then usher them into a private car that will deliver them safely to their homes, unable to even consider giving them a platonic kiss on the cheek, since it feels like a betrayal toward Luisa.
Utterly ridiculous.
And today, it’s coming to a stop.
I asked Luisa to meet in my office before Marla is scheduled to arrive, because if things go how I hope they will, I want no one within earshot of my office.
Two strong knocks rap on my door before it flies open and Luisa barges in as if she owns the place.
Almost as if she knows that she owns me .
She’s dressed in a red suit, like she’s ready for battle. Her white top is open a button too low to be considered work appropriate, but it clearly communicates what she wanted when she got dressed this morning, since I can see the beginning of her lacy white bra from where I stand.
“Okay, Stonehaven. I’m here, but make it quick. I’ve got things to do.” She drops her oversized bag in the chair meant for her and strides around my desk, not stopping until she’s standing right before me.
I try to keep my hands in my pockets but quickly lose the battle when I look down into her top and can see the tips of her hardened nipples through her sheer lace bra.
She moves fast, but not quick enough.
I have her back pinned to the glass wall overlooking Monarch stadium, one hand placed against the glass by her face and the other keeping her chin tipped up toward me. “Date me,” I demand.
Her eyes widen briefly before she schools her features into perfect indifference. “Very funny, Stonehaven. Now tell me what you called me in for before I knee you in the crown jewels.”
I ignore her quip and repeat, “Date. Me.”
She tries to shake her head, but my firm grip keeps her in place. “You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t like to repeat myself, Luisa. But for you, I will. Date me.” I soften my tone.
Many emotions flutter through her honey-colored eyes before landing on skepticism. “So that’s it? You’re going to bulldoze through all the formalities and, what? Demand I date you? Because that sure as hell wasn’t asking.”
My lips twitch, but I force myself to stay on task. “Demanding opens up space for negotiation.”
She scoffs, but I see the fire in her eyes. The spark that ignites when we do what we do best. When we battle for dominance like we did the night I fucked her so deeply she stole my sanity.
“Say yes,” I push, leaning in closer, our breaths mingling.
“You know we can’t,” she offers weakly, but I came prepared for this.
I start to move slowly, giving her the time and space to push me off if she wants to. But her curious eyes let me move without disruption as I lean down and kiss that spot beneath her ear that drove her wild the night we met. “I told you I came prepared to negotiate.”
She sighs softly. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t standard practice, Stonehaven.”
I move up and kiss her temple, inhaling deeply as the rattling in my brain seems to settle at her nearness.
“We can keep it a secret. Only go out to places we won’t be seen, so nobody would have to know.
” I feel her stiffen beneath me and move back slightly to read her face.
Hurt mars her expression momentarily, but I act quickly to wipe it away.
“Let me be very clear here: I have no issue with sending out a companywide email, along with a press statement, informing everyone that we are exclusively dating. You are not and will never be my dirty little secret. We play by your rules here, Luisa. Public or private, it’s all the same to me as long as you say yes. ”
She softens slightly at my words but still attempts to shake her head. “It’s just… I—I can’t. I’ll be crucified in the—”
“Quickly. Answer me this. If public scrutiny weren’t an issue. If we were just two people who met at the bar and shared a life-altering night. Followed by months of explosive chemistry with a dash of violence—on your end, of course—would you want to date me?”
I might be ashamed of the pleading tone my voice has taken at a later time, but right now my eyes are locked on Luisa’s, begging her to answer me honestly and put me out of my misery.
I see it then.
Her shoulders sag and her eyes look tortured. They start to water, but she quickly tries to bat them dry. A rogue tear runs down her cheek as she opens her mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.
My thumb catches the tear, wiping it away as I rest my forehead against hers. “Don’t worry, Angel. You don’t have to say anything. I already have my answer.”
We stay like that, synchronized breaths having the conversation our voices can’t. She’s the first to pull away, and I let her.
I brace for it. The moment where she builds back her walls right before my eyes.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, she places her hand on my cheek, and I fight the urge to nuzzle into her palm.
She seems to contemplate what to do next, her eyes searching mine—for what, I’m not sure.
She must find it, because in the next moment, she lifts up on her toes and softly brings her lips to mine.
I don’t hesitate. I slide my hand behind the base of her neck and angle her up to me. The kiss is slow and unrushed. I’m about to demand more when my body stills, seeming to have realized what this was before my brain could.
A goodbye kiss.
Luisa’s lips leave mine as she takes a step back, leaving her hand on my cheek for a moment before I lose that too.
Don’t say it. Please don’t say it .
“I’m so sorry, Nick.”
She places a hand over her lips before she turns away, gathers her purse, and walks out the door.
I wait one minute—a solid sixty seconds—before I bend down and send all the contents of my desk toppling to the ground with a roar.
Eyes unfocused, I take in the sight of contracts, electronics, and pens falling haphazardly around me.
I pant as I try to reel in the scorching pain in the middle of my chest. The space where Luisa’s been residing, against my better judgment.
I bet on myself, and I lost.
Again.
But this time, I lost her .
I force my breaths to even out and start getting to work on cleaning up my mess. It doesn’t take me long, but as I replay our kiss for what feels like the millionth time, the mind-bending pain returns with a vengeance when I realize I missed the most fatal blow of all.
She finally called me Nick.