by Amanda Cowen
“Are you okay?” he asks, straightening me up on my feet.
I nod, my gaze slides over his extra slim-fit, dark blue pinstripe suit. His light blue shirt and navy tie with flecks of red accentuate his polished style. His dark, curly hair is slicked back and adds another element of sophistication. He couldn’t be more than forty, and he has a smile so charming that it is hard not to smile back.
“This is Theo Martin,” my father says. “He’s the Chief Operating Officer of Marketing and Promotions for the Bruisers. He’s a Penn alum like you, and he holds an MBA from Harvard. You could learn a lot of him.”
“Your father has told me so many great things about you,” Theo says. “He says you graduated a semester early and at the top of your undergrad business school class. I hear you’re interested in marketing and communications.”
Once again I nod, confused by what my father is trying to do here.
“Are you planning on staying in Bexley for a while?” Theo asks.
“Hopefully. I’ve applied to graduate school for the fall. I’ve been accepted at a few colleges already, but I have my heart set on Harvard, I plan to get my MBA.” I feel myself ease up a bit. Talking about school, this I can do.
“You know, Theo is looking for an intern to help out in his department for the next six months,” my father chimes in. “I told him you might be interested.”
My gaze shifts from Theo to my father. Leave it to him to make sure I am taken care of and that I’m heading down the right path. He knows I’ve been applying to marketing firms all over the city. As great as my father’s intentions are, I don’t know if I want to be stuck working in promotions for a hockey team.
“Would you be interested?” Theo asks.
“In an interview?” I ask.
“No need for that. The job is yours if you want it. I need someone to help manage the Bruisers social media pages and our website. But mainly I’m looking for someone to help assist with coordinating media events for the team.”
I glance at my beaming father. The look of pride in his eyes is begging me to accept Theo’s offer. Dammit! I can’t find it in my heart to disappoint my dad. Screw Cash and my damn hormones. I need the job and the experience, so why not?
“Count me in,” I say, although my voice is a lot shakier than expected. It’s hard to fathom seeing Cash on a daily basis at the arena after being subjected to his inappropriate caveman-like attempt to make me swoon behind the penalty box.
“Wonderful!” my father exclaims, slapping Theo on the back. “You two will make a great team.”
“Can you start on Monday?” Theo asks.
“Definitely,” I say, even though I’m already starting to regret agreeing to take the job.
I feel a tug on my arm and turn to see Lyndsey holding a bottle of water out to me. Louis and his posse are behind her.
“Your water.” She peers over my shoulder and waves. “Hi, Theo.”
Does my sister know everyone? How much time does she spend with the team? She’s like the Bruisers’ goddamn mascot.
I look over my shoulder and see Theo wave back before engaging in a side conversation with our father.
“What was that all about?” Lyndsey asks.
“Theo offered me an internship in Marketing and Promotions for the Bruisers.” I take a sip from my water.
Lyndsey’s eyes light up. “No way. Please tell me you accepted it.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to let Dad down,” I mumble.
My whole life I’ve felt like I’m expected to follow the path my father has set out for me. If he’s happy, it makes my life a whole lot easier. I can’t complain too much about his interference though. Adding sports marketing to my resume would definitely add some versatility to my experience.
“You will love working with Theo. He’s super focused and on the ball. If you’re looking for a great mentor, he’s your guy,” Louis pipes up.
“I guess that means we’re going to be seeing a lot of you, then?” Viktor says with a smile. “It must be my lucky day.”
I take a deep breath and ignore Viktor’s flirtations.
“Where’s the ladies room?”
Lyndsey points the way. “We’ll wait for you here.”
I round the corner into the secluded hall leading to the washrooms, and my heart stops. Cash on the ice, sweaty and dressed in hockey equipment, was sexy, but the Cash sitting feet away, wearing an expensive modern-fit, pastel brown suit, is insanely hot. I eye the two women perched on either side of him on the red velvet chaise. To his right, a long-haired blonde with extensions rests a possessive hand on his chest. To his left, a woman with jet black hair toys with her side ponytail while running the fingers of her other hand through his wavy honey-colored hair.
His piercing blue gaze snaps to mine, and he tilts his head to the side, studying me. A cocky grin curves his full lips. I move forward, unable to breathe as his stare slides down my peplum dress, stopping once at my breasts and once at my hips. His eyes lock with mine and I fiddle with the gold-toned slider bracelet around my wrist. He pushes up from the chaise, abandoning the two women feeling him up in the corner. I turn away, and as my palm slams against the door of the ladies’ room, a big, warm hand closes around my wrist.
Cash spins me around and I press back against the wall beside the door. He cages me, his palms flat on either side of my head. He leans toward me, his mouth inches from my face, so close I can the warmth of his breath tickling my cheek. He smells ridiculously good, like honey and cinnamon.
“Mittens,” he whispers, his mouth dangerously close to my lips. “I didn’t peg you as the stalking type, especially since you took off after I scored that hard-earned goal for you.”
What an arrogant bastard!
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me? Do I know you?”
His eyes flicker, and his lips curl in amusement. “Come on, Quinn. I don’t ever forget a pretty face. I’m willing to bet you don’t forget one either.”
My heart pounds as I glare into his sharp baby blues. His sexy athletic build towers over me. He makes me feel even more petite than usual. I try to ignore the rise and fall on his muscular chest, but despite myself my nipples harden.
Even though my body is betraying me, I refuse to act like every other puck bunny, falling at his feet. “You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?” I say. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the ladies room.”
He chuckles, “How about you stop playing games with me and admit you came here looking for me.”
I shoot him a disgusted look. “I’m not here for you.”
Cash smiles at me with what I am guessing to be one of his most charmingly rehearsed expressions. He cocks his head to the side then bites his bottom lip like he is thinking about something. “Alright, since you want to play it that way…” He leans in close enough that I feel his stubble brush against my cheek. “Can I buy you a drink?”
An unwelcome shiver of awareness shoots up my spine. “Listen, asshole. I am Hilton Ashby’s daughter and the newest employee in the Marketing and Promotions Department for the Bruisers. So if you wouldn’t mind stepping aside so I can freshen up, I would really appreciate it.”
Cash’s dimples deepen, and a dangerous grin pulls at the corners of his lips. “Perfect, now I know where I can find you.”
I feel myself weaken for a brief second at his smile, until I remind myself this guy is nothing but trouble. Wrapping my fingers tightly around his tie, I yank him against my chest, and whisper in his ear, “Stay away from me, Brooks. I don’t do arrogant dickheads.”
Cash looks straight into my eyes, his grin still in place. He runs a callused fingertip along my collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere.” He leans down, his lips close to mine. “I promise you, this is just the beginning.”
When he steps back, I have to press my back hard against the wall to keep myself from sliding down to the floor. He runs his thumb possessively over my lips, before he turns around and walks over to his tw
o voluptuous dates waiting for him on the chaise.
I inhale a sharp breath, before I push open the door into the ladies’ room. I collapse into one of the stalls unable to breathe. I can still feel where Cash’s stubble touched the side of my face and wonder how I am ever going to survive this internship.
Chapter 3
Monday morning when I arrive at Arch Union Centre for my first day of work, I bump into Theo on the elevator. He looks fantastic and as smartly dressed as he was the night before in a gray suit and a crisp pale-blue shirt, making his big brown eyes pop. He greets me with a warm smile, even though he is talking on his cell phone. When a few more people jam into the already tiny elevator, I am forced up against his hard warm body. He clears his throat and shifts a bit when my backside involuntarily presses against his groin.
A few more floors before the shiny metal doors slide open to the offices of the Bruisers’ administration. Theo steps in front of me, guiding us along the corridor overlooking the ice hockey rink. My pin thin heels click along the tile floor, while Theo chats away, pointing out the General Manager’s office, the Senior Director of Public Relations office, the Chief Executive Officer’s office and so on. I am trying my best to stay focused while suppressing a yawn, but I am so tired, that it is really hard to absorb much of anything right now.
I’ve barely slept. My mind is restless. Tossing and turning all night long, unable to shake Cash’s words, repeating over and over in my head. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise this is just the beginning.”
“To end the tour, let me introduce you to your office.” Theo’s outstretched finger points to the heavy mahogany door across the hall.
My eyes shift into focus when I see a golden nameplate on the door that reads, Kimberly McMahon, Marketing Director. I shift my gaze to meet Theo’s once happy face contorted into a furrowed brow. He scoffs a bit, leaning forward, and tries to rip the nameplate off the door. Without much success, he runs his hand through his brown curls. “Sorry about this, Quinn. Maintenance was supposed to have this removed over the weekend.”
“No worries.” I shrug, placing my hand on the brass knob. “Thank you for the tour.”
Theo nods with a confident grin. “No problem. If you need anything, I’m right across the hall,” he says, taking a step backward. “How about I give you a few minutes to settle in and put your things away. When you’re ready, come to my office so we can start with the logistics of the position.” He pauses, pursing his thin lips together and cocking his head to the side. “I’m really happy to have you working here, Quinn. I think you’re going to be great.”
“Thanks, I think I’ll be great too,” I say, admiring the dimple on his chin.
“You will be.” A warm smile touches his lips and he gives me a wink. He looks away, letting his long brown lashes brush against his cheeks as he fiddles with the knob on his door. When it finally opens, he looks back at me before stepping into his office. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“Sure, that would be great. Thanks,” I respond.
“Cream and sugar?” he asks.
I nod, watching Theo close the door behind him and disappear into his office.
Stepping into my new brightly lit space, I’m immediately hit with the smell of fresh flowers and two penetrating blue eyes. My pulse leaps and my breathing quickens at seeing Cash leaning against my desk, looking all sexy and muscular. His eyes sparkle in my direction, his dimples deepening into his tanned skin as an amused grin spreads across his lips. My eyes travel downward, taking in his tight white T-shirt, tattooed forearms, and finally his dark denim jeans painted against his strong toned legs.
His smooth deep voice drips with conceit. “Good morning, Mittens.”
A shiver runs up my spine, watching him push away from my desk, taking a step forward. I instinctually take a step back. “How the hell did you get in here?”
“I heard you like roses,” he says, ignoring my question. His tanned and muscular arms extend in my direction, holding the most beautiful bouquet of lavender roses. There must be at least three dozen tightly balled into a clear square vase.
Tapping my foot on the floor, I say, “You must have heard wrong, because I prefer cupcakes.” I swallow hard, unable to pull myself away from his stare. His wavy hair looks so wild, and his smell…Oh. My. God. His smell…How is it possible for a man to smell so goddamn delicious?
Cash chuckles, his eyes sparkling. “Cupcakes?”
“Yes. Cupcakes.”
“You’re a strange duck, Mittens.” He puts the vase on the edge of my desk and tilts his head to the side, giving me his patented panty-dropping smile. His blue eyes burn into me. “Like them?”
They’re gorgeous, but I refuse to bend. “Listen Cash, I’m never going to sleep with you, so this really needs to stop. I work here and our relationship needs to be professional. Do you understand?”
“Christ, Mittens, most girls would die to have me surprise them in their office with a bouquet of flowers.” He chews on his plump bottom lip and smiles, clearly amused by my disinterest.
“Yeah, well, I’m not most girls.” I push past him, hearing nothing but my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not a slut or a puck-bunny looking for a good time. I’m not like those girls who scream your name in the arena. I’m not impressed by your manwhore reputation, your hot temper or your cocky charm. My education and my internship are my first priority. So cut the crap because nothing is going to happen between us.” I don’t dare look back into his eyes. Instead I turn my back to him, protecting myself from his hot stare. I toss my purse on my desk and swallow under the pressure of his unwavering attention.
A spike of arousal hits me, hearing his heavy footsteps follow me around the desk. My body tenses. I inhale a sharp breath, feeling him press against my backside. He leans in so close, I can feel his breath on my cheek. “I’m sorry, Mittens…I didn’t realize I offended you.”
“Stop calling me that. I have a name.” I’m not about to turn around, in fear of his lips meeting mine.
As I boot up my computer, trying to ignore him, Cash retreats to the other side of my desk. When I look up, he’s leaning forward and grinning at me, his palms braced on my desk. The posture emphasizes his strong athletic build and arrogance. “What are you doing after work?” he asks.
“Umm, nothing…”
“I want you at the game tonight.” He digs his hand around in his back pocket of his jeans.
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Oh, really?”
Cash smirks, sliding a white envelope across the desk. I bite my lip, staring down at it and his squiggly, messy man handwriting. I suppress a grin at his bold text that reads MITTENS.
I wave the envelope at him. “What’s this?”
“Open it,” he says like he’s daring me.
My fingers tremble a bit when I peel back the flap on the envelope. I blink a few times, staring down at four Bexley Bruisers tickets for tonight’s game, seated front row, behind home bench. I make the mistake of glancing up at him and his perfect face, feeling a prickling sensation spark behind my knees.
“A limo’s picking you up at seven.”
Laughing, I hold my hand up to stop him there, “Unlike your sex-starved fans, I’m far from impressed by a few free tickets. My father can get me tickets for a corporate box whenever I want.”
“So is that a yes or a no?” he says, a grin firmly in place.
He stares back at me, incredibly perfect and downright sexy. But I need to keep our relationship professional. I’m not planning on staying in Bexley, and the last thing I need is a distraction, especially one as lethal as Cash Brooks.
“I can’t go. I’m sorry.” I slide the envelope across the desk.
“Alright, Mittens.” He chuckles, immune to my rejection. “I’m asking you on a professional level to come to the game. Not because I’m trying to fuck you, alright.” I roll my eyes at his persistence, but he leans further over the desk. “The last thing I need is to get messed up wit
h Hilton Ashby’s daughter. Believe me, I want back in the majors. Fucking the President’s daughter would be a career killer.”
I don’t respond feeling his eyes pierce my brave front.
“Last time you were at a game I scored a wicked goal. That hasn’t happened for me in a while. I only want you there for good luck.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” I ask.
Cash chuckles, shaking his head. “Just come to the game alright. I’ll try to score you a hat trick this time.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Theo knocks on my door, sticking his head into my office, holding two cups of coffee.
“Hey Quinn, are you ready to—” Theo stops in his tracks. The wrinkles in his forehead deepen, shifting his gaze between Cash and me. “Brooks? What are you doing here? Our meeting isn’t until eleven.”
“Really? I thought it was for nine.” Cash leans against my desk.
“No, eleven,” Theo says in a tone that’s somewhere between stern and annoyed.
Cash’s stare slides down to the two coffees Theo is holding. “Aw, Theo, you shouldn’t have.” He grins, taking a step forward. His strong tanned fingers stretch out, snaking the hot mugs right out of Theo’s hands. He passes me one with a wink. “I’m assuming this one’s for you.”
Theo shifts his gaze to me. “Quinn, I guess you’ve had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Cash Brooks this morning.”
I nod, feeling extremely uncomfortable. The tension between Cash and Theo is palpable.
“Not only is Quinn Hilton Ashby’s daughter, she is also the new marketing coordinator for the team,” Theo says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Cash straightens up. “Yeah, and I want her managing all my shit from now on. Not you.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Theo says.
“Don’t worry, Theo. I’ve babysat worse,” I pipe up. Theo chuckles, but there’s nothing but silence from Cash. I don’t dare make eye contact with him. I can feel his gaze burning into me.
