Page 39 of Fair Trade (New York Monarchs #2)

thirty-five

I’ve been on edge since the charity gala that almost turned into a crime scene.

I’m usually able to keep my emotions locked up tight around my sperm donor, but seeing his hands on Luisa made me see red.

And his mention of my grandfather’s will added fuel to the fire.

But then again, he could have just been schmoozing with the 1 percent of high society that his old money can’t seem to buy him a ticket into.

But it’s better to play it safe, especially since I now have Luisa. The fact that he’s in the city sniffing around could be a cause for concern. I’ll reach out to one of my guys and have him start looking into him to see if there’s anything I should keep my eye on.

He sure as hell isn’t here to see his daughter, since Daisy always gives me a heads-up when our dear old dad has decided that he’s due for a photo op with his kid and future son-in-law, who is a New York senator, currently in the running to be our new governor.

I don’t know how my father was able to influence Daisy in that situation, but the closer my sister gets to walking down the aisle with a man who has the emotional intelligence of a gnat, the more my mind races, running through ways I can help get her out of this engagement.

I know I’m hardly the person to come to for romantic advice, but I know my sister, and I know she’s not in love with that man, at least not anymore.

For the life of me, I can’t understand why she doesn’t walk away. She has the means to do so. I set up a trust fund that made her an overnight billionaire when she was twenty-one. Walking away shouldn’t be hard. It’s not like it’s something our father hasn’t taught us to do time and time again.

“Hey, you ready?” Luisa asks as she straightens her blazer for the hundredth time.

I tug on her hand, forcing her to leave the poor garment alone. “Are you?”

I’m supposed to be focusing on the press conference I’m about to sit in on where we’ll discuss the World Baseball Classic games. Although it’s no secret that what the journalists are really aiming for during the Q&A is information about Luisa and me.

We’ve sat with the PR team and have gone over our vague yet playful answers repeatedly. We’ll give an inch but make sure to circle back all conversations to the games.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, let’s get this over with. It’s always the same song and dance with these guys, trying to get a reaction out of me. It won’t work, but it’s annoying to sit through.”

“What do you mean?”

Someone from the PR team waves for our attention. “Okay, they’re ready for you.”

Luisa slips by me without answering, and my hand twitches with the desire to touch her.

We’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Touching.

But it’s only when there’s an audience. And if I’m being honest, I’m getting kind of sick of it.

I hate how I can see the desire in her eyes clear as day, yet the moment we pull away, she scans the room nervously, aware of the attention set on us, and retreats to a place in her mind where I can’t reach her.

I don’t want to keep playing this game, but I know it’s far too soon to broach the conversation, so I’ll have to keep biding my time.

I enter the room reserved for the media and take my seat at the table lined with microphones next to Luisa.

Pleasantries are quickly exchanged before the reporters get right to it. “Mr. Stonehaven, how would you compare running a media empire to running a Major League Baseball team?”

I’ve been asked this question countless times, and I’m well aware it’s a throwaway question meant to lower my guard for when they ask what they really want to know.

I give them the same tongue-in-cheek answer I always do and keep it moving along.

“Hey there, Luisa,” a fresh-faced journalist starts. I’m not too pleased with his unwarranted sense of familiarity with my wife, but it’s too early to start biting people’s heads off when I’m supposed to be selling the image of domesticated bliss.

“Hi, Jake.” Luisa nods.

“So, the season ended abruptly after the team showed signs of getting an easy ride to the World Series. What do you plan on doing differently next season to make sure the Monarchs play their very first championship game?”

The stupidity of the question has me answering before I can stop myself. “My wife didn’t exactly throw that right hook that left us without our star pitcher last I checked.”

Luisa smiles uncomfortably as she not so softly pats my hand over the table.

“Such a funny guy, this one.” She forces a chuckle.

“But to answer your question, Jake, this team has managed to exceed every expectation from our point of view. Coming onto the scene for one of the most competitive years in the league is no small feat. And we’ve had some great wins and some tough losses, but I expect to see some amazing baseball from my guys next season.

A few of them put on quite the show during the Dominican Republic versus Puerto Rico game last night, wouldn’t you say?

” She flashes a saccharine smile, and my cock twitches.

God, there’s nothing I love more than this woman exerting her authority over everyone, including me.

Jake nods, though you can tell Luisa didn’t give him the sound bite he was looking for.

An older man with ruddy cheeks jumps in before Jake has the chance to ask a follow-up question.

“Luisa.” He flips through a small notepad, and in that moment, I recognize that no one would dare call me by my first name without me explicitly stating that they could.

I mistook that veiled disrespect for a sense of familiarity earlier.

It’s so small, I’m not sure they realize they’re doing it.

I move closer to the mic to rectify it immediately. “That’s Mrs. álvarez-Stonehaven.” My voice comes out harsher than intended, so I give a subtle shrug to lessen the tension in the room. “She’s hyphenating.”

Luisa sends a glare my way as the room erupts into low chuckles and the reporter carries on with his question.

“My apologies. Mrs. álvarez-Stonehaven, as the first female GM, do you think you’ve got an edge when it comes to acquiring new players, since you’re able to give a woman’s touch and tap into the more sensitive side of the negotiation process? ”

What kind of fucking question is that?

I almost shout my thoughts as Luisa speaks.

“Thanks for the question, Tom. But to be clear, there is no touching when we’re negotiating, more like consuming an alarming amount of caffeine while sitting in on multiple speakerphone conversations at once,” she jokes, clearly using humor to deflect from the sexist question.

And just as I think she’s about to let it slide for the sake of keeping the peace, my wife continues.

“But let’s back up a bit to the part about me being the first female GM.

” She pauses and looks around. “Don’t know if you’ve heard about that fun fact.

” The room erupts into laughter as she charms them all with her wit.

“I’m honored to hold the title, but to be frank, the answer is much more boring than you’d expect.

My AGMs and I work hard to make sure that we are putting the best players in our stadiums for our fans to enjoy.

There is a mutual respect in the role we play within this organization, and the fact that I’m a woman has very little to do with it, aside from selling magazines.

Is that why you asked the question, Tom?

Are you angling for me to sign your copy of GQ?

All you had to do was ask.” She winks at the old man, and I swear I see hearts in his eyes.

Luisa would have bitten my head off if I made a comment like that, and rightfully so. But it seems that my dear wife is no stranger to these types of questions, and the realization has me fisting a hand under the table.

“Last question, over here!” A guy similar to Tom waves.

Damn, why aren’t there more women in this media room? Maybe if there were, Luisa wouldn’t have to answer some of these stupid questions.

I make a mental note to remodel how we do press conferences from here on out as the man starts.

“Dan, here, and I guess I’ll be the one to address the elephant in the room.

” The tension in the air raises slightly.

Here it comes, the moment Luisa and I have prepared for.

The question everyone wants to know. Something that has to do with our marriage or how we manage to work together in the same organization.

“You know, I had the perfect question lined up, but this morning, before I left my house, my wife begged me to ask her question instead. Now, I know bypassing what my paper wants me to find out and instead listening to my wife may be unconventional, but as a happily married man of almost thirty-five years, it was an easy decision.” He smiles, as if recalling the vision of his wife, and somehow, I find myself smiling along with him.

“So, the question from Mrs. Betsy Wallace is… Was it love at first sight?”

The room goes quiet, and I look over to Luisa.

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, as if she’s hoping that the words she didn’t prepare for will magically fall out.

I find myself answering instead.

“No.”

Her head whips toward me, her expression slightly alarmed as the crowd starts to murmur lowly.

“Love at first sight would imply that I fell for her that night.” I keep talking, my eyes trained on Luisa’s big, beautiful brown ones. “But if I’m being honest with you, I haven’t stopped falling since the moment I laid eyes on my wife. And I hope I never do.”

Luisa sucks in a sharp breath as her eyes bounce between mine.

“Although, if I had to pinpoint a singular moment, it might have been when she decided to call me the devil.” Gasps and laughter fill the room as Luisa’s eyes widen, only to immediately narrow.

I break eye contact with Luisa so I can sweep the room to see their reactions.

Dan scribbles intelligibly on his own notepad. “Mrs. álvarez-Stonehaven calls you the devil?” he asks while barely holding in his own laughter.

He addressed her appropriately, so I decide then and there that Dan can stay once I restructure the media room attendees.

“Yes, and to be fair, I can be. Especially when it comes to my wife. So I’d tread lightly when you consider how to address her, and I suggest you rework your questions into something worthy of her time.

” I sound like a ticked-off professor strongly suggesting his students not slack off while studying for a final.

“Okay, that’s all the time we have for today,” the head of PR announces as she waves for us to stand. We take a quick photo by the Monarchs team logo before we walk off into a hallway, away from prying eyes and ears.

Luisa’s forced smile stays on her face. “My office. Now.”

I keep stride with her, only slowing when I can’t help myself and need another peek of that black flowy skirt that softly molds around her ass that’s kept me semi hard all morning.

We make it to her office, and she shuts the door with more force than necessary.

Ah, my little Angel looks so tough, thinking she’s got me locked up in her domain.

When in reality, she has no idea that my patience has run out and so has her time.

And I’ve got her right where I want her.