by Anna Sugden
He stopped his chair sharply. This wasn’t a social event. It was business.
He had to do better than this. He was a professional with a job to do. Anyone would think he’d never been around a woman before. He’d been married, for crying out loud. The fact that Celine had never once derailed him from anything—not even when they’d first met—was irrelevant. That had been a long time ago and his mind had been firmly fixed on hockey.
Celine had never challenged him. She’d made it all easy. She’d asked him out. She’d practically proposed to him. She’d taken care of their wedding, each of their homes, all their moves and, of course, their kids. It shouldn’t have been a surprise really that she’d also taken care of their divorce.
Since his mind clearly wasn’t on work, he should get out of there. He shoved some files into his case, shut down his computer and headed out.
Scott decided to walk to the bar. Unlike on game night, when the area was packed with fans, tonight it was quiet. Several runners and dog walkers passed him as he strolled past the central fountain, making his way toward the low brick building with the blinking neon sign.
The cool, dim interior of the tavern was a blessing after the late-summer heat. He chose a booth in the back, with a view of the TV playing the Yankees pregame show. The Angels were in town and he’d be able to catch an inning or two before Sapphie arrived.
At the bottom of the second, his cell pinged with a text. It was Sapphie.
On my way.
Good thing he’d decided against the tie this morning, because it would have been strangling him. He drained his glass of ice water and tried to focus on the pitcher, who was on a full count with a man on first. Scott groaned with the rest of the bar when the pin-striped batter hit a pop fly that resulted in a double play.
Even though he knew it would take at least fifteen minutes for Sapphie to get to the tavern, he looked up every time the heavy door opened. He felt like a fool.
He felt an even bigger fool for the way he deflated each time it wasn’t her.
When Sapphie breezed into the tavern, instantly she brightened the place. A colorful bloom amid the dark wood and leather. She spotted Scott and waggled her fingers, then walked toward him. Every male head in the place turned to watch as she passed by.
Scott pretended he didn’t feel her leg brush his as she slid into the booth opposite him. “No problems finding the place?”
“No, but I’m glad I had the sat nav. The one-way-street system is a killer.”
“Your meeting must have finished up quicker than expected.”
“It did. We’d done as much as we could for now.” She sipped from the glass of ice water their server poured for her. “Sorry about keeping you waiting. That damn mayor has a lot to answer for. He has the concerned tone and the earnest expression down pat. A shame it hides him rubbing his hands all the way to the bank.”
“What’s he done?”
Before she could answer, their server reappeared and asked for their order. A mojito for Sapphie and a beer for him, plus a plate of chips and sour-cream dip.
“So you were telling me about the mayor,” he prompted.
“It appears the Scartellis forgot to mention during due diligence that they had an agreement with the city regarding the arena and a local redevelopment plan. There are a bunch of payment clauses based on the Scartellis and the Ice Cats failing to deliver on key targets—which they have—that come into play in the next twelve months.”
Scott nearly choked when she told him how much money was potentially involved. No wonder the Scartellis were so keen to sell. “Holy cow.”
“Marty’s spitting blood. So is Callum, who was also kept in the dark. Of course, there are fail-safes built into acquisition contracts for such an eventuality, but it’ll take a while to untangle the mess. Luckily, Marty’s legal team is the best and they’re already on the case. In the meantime, we need to operate on the basis that those payments will have to be made and take them into account in our financial projections. Which, in turn, will impact the budgets.”
“Which won’t be good for the Ice Cats.” That was an understatement. Cash-strapped organizations had to cut back in all areas, including player salaries.
“I’ll tell you now Marty won’t rob Peter to pay Paul. He keeps each business separate. So if he has to pay the city, it’ll come out of the Ice Cats’ coffers and not from any of his other teams.”
“Which will make Callum’s job—and mine—a lot tougher.” So much for the new owner meaning things would be different.
“At least none of your plans are set in stone. There’s time to adapt.”
Your plans, your obligation, your problem. A stark reminder they were on opposite sides of the fence.
“Callum is experienced. He’ll have come across this kind of situation before.” At least, he hoped so. From where he sat, it looked bleak.
Their server returned with their order and menus. “Are you planning to have dinner with us?”
There was an awkward silence, as if neither of them wanted to be the first to speak.
To hell with it. He reached for a menu. “I’m starving. You’re welcome to join me.”
Sapphie hesitated, then nodded. “I’m hungry, too.”
They perused the food options, then both settled on cottage pies. Once their server had gone, silence fell again.
“How was the rest of your day?” Sapphie asked brightly.
It was an innocent-enough question. No obvious hidden agenda. So why did Scott hesitate before answering?
“Pretty good. I spent most of the afternoon reviewing the information from this morning. It’s interesting seeing things from the other side of the fence.”
“I bet. Front-office issues probably never cross players’ minds. I don’t think that’s a bad thing, by the way. They shouldn’t have to worry about butts on seats or how many boxes have been sold for a game.”
“We don’t—unless they impact on us. Like when your barn is half-empty or full of too many opposing-team fans. Or when financial constraints lead to player trades and problems with contract renewals.” He hoped that wouldn’t happen as a result of the mayor’s little bombshell. He damn well wouldn’t let it.
“Marty’s fair. He’ll give you a chance to figure out how to fix the problems.”
But would he give them long enough to turn things around before heads started to roll? “That’s good to know. I still feel like I’ve been tossed in the deep end.”
“If it helps, you didn’t seem out of your depth at all.”
Her unexpected praise made him feel like he’d been awarded the first star of a game. “Thanks. It’s been a while since I did my degree, but it’s coming back pretty quickly.”
“Shows you have a natural bent for it.” She raised her drink and toasted him. “Here’s to a relatively pain-free first day.”
“I don’t know.” He clinked his beer bottle against her glass. “My backside aches from sitting too much.”
She smiled and seemed about to say something, but their food arrived. They spent several minutes tucking in.
“What did you think of Lyle’s marketing plan?” Sapphie asked.
Once again, Scott hesitated before answering. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Sapphie, but he felt uncomfortable—even a little disloyal—talking about his colleagues with her. He said as much to her.
Disappointment clouded her expression. “I keep telling you, I’m not the enemy. My job is to get the best out of the organization, not pick people to fire. If there are areas of weakness, I need to identify them and look for ways to improve them.”
“I get that. I just think I should discuss my impressions with Callum first.”
“Fair enough. But I hope once you’ve spoken with your boss, we can share notes. Your perspective—as form
er team captain—will be invaluable. Too often we don’t see the impact of our decisions on the players and you can provide that viewpoint.”
“I don’t know how much I can add. You guys are the experts. I’m the rookie.”
“Sometimes fresh eyes provide the best insights.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Having exhausted the conversation about the business, they focused on their food again. Scott wasn’t sure what to say next. He’d never been good at small talk.
Sapphie finished her meal and pushed her plate aside. “That was almost as good as home cooking. I’ll have to remember this place. I eat far too much hotel food when I’m traveling.”
Grateful for the opening, he asked, “Are you staying with J.B. and Issy?”
“No. I rent a serviced apartment in Edgewater. It’s easier than a hotel and it means I don’t have to impose on friends. Plus I can come and go as I please. My hours aren’t very sociable and I hate to be a bad guest.”
She really didn’t like commitment. Other than her work, everything in her life was temporary. Disposable. Somehow that felt sad. But if she was happy, why did he care?
“But I did see my gorgeous goddaughter, Sophia, yesterday. We had a picnic in the park.” She pulled her cell out of her purse, swiped the screen, then turned it to show him. “I got her that outfit, complete with the adorable sun hat.”
The picture showed Sapphie with the grinning baby, decked out in a red T-shirt with a big daisy on her chest and red shorts, mugging for the camera. Sophia’s red hat also had a big daisy on it.
“Very cute.”
Sapphie sighed. “She’s growing so fast. One of the benefits of this acquisition is that I’ll get to spend more time with her than I would otherwise.”
“Time passes quickly. It seems like only yesterday my kids were that age and now they’re in college.”
“Come on.” She motioned with her hand to give her his phone. “I’ve shown you mine—well, Issy’s. Show me yours.”
He dutifully pulled up pictures of Angela and Wayne that he’d taken over the summer. “Luckily, they take after their mother and not their old man.”
Sapphie studied the photos. “They’ve definitely both got your eyes. And your mouth.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Really? No one’s pointed that out before.”
“Then no one’s looked properly before.” She glanced up.
Their gazes met and held. A fire bolt hit him in the chest with the force of a slap shot. Heat spread outward, filling his body. From the flush in her cheeks, it seemed she’d felt the connection, too.
Sapphie looked away first and reached for her purse. “I should probably go. I managed to speak with the staff in my office here, but I still need to touch base with my people in Chicago and LA, and I have another full day ahead of me tomorrow. Which has probably now become even fuller after that thing with the mayor.”
“Yeah. Mine, too.” Scott signaled for the check, then pulled out some bills and tossed them onto the table.
Sapphie got out her wallet and extracted some money. “Here’s my share.”
He put his hand over hers. “I’ve got it.”
“This wasn’t a date.”
He gritted his teeth at her terse tone. “I know.”
“As your colleague, I can cover my food and drink.”
He ignored the jab of irritation her words gave him. “I’d like to think we’re more than colleagues. Aren’t we friends, at least?”
“I split the tab with my friends all the time.”
“Not this time. But you can pay next time. Deal?”
“Deal.” She smiled, easing the tension.
As she went to put away her wallet, they both realized that his hand still covered hers. Her gaze snapped up to meet his. This time awareness shimmered in the clear blue depths, mirroring the feeling rippling through him.
He swallowed hard. This was dangerous territory. He hardly dared breathe in case he spoiled the moment.
Slowly, he leaned toward her. His gaze dropped to her mouth.
She licked her lips. For a moment, she seemed to move toward him.
Then, as if she’d realized what was happening, she sat back abruptly and slipped her hand out from under his.
“Thank you for dinner.” She was suddenly very focused on her wallet.
Scott cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”
He rose and gestured for Sapphie to precede him, then followed her out. Although the temperature had dropped a little once the sun had gone down, the evening was still hot and sultry.
“Where are you parked?”
“It’s over there, under a light.” Sapphie held up her keys. “You don’t have to escort me. I’m always sensible about my safety.”
“I’m sure you are, but I can’t let a woman go to her car on her own at night. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d do this for any woman I know.”
She looked like she might argue further but said, “Okay. In that case, thank you.”
She strode off at a smart clip, so he had to move quickly to catch up.
When they reached her car, the moment became awkward again.
“Thanks again,” she said stiffly. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.”
Suddenly, he was tired of her being tense and edgy with him. “I get it, you know. Last weekend isn’t going to happen again. Especially now that we have to work together.”
“Maybe you’re not the one who needs to get it,” she said softly.
Stunned, he didn’t know how to respond.
Sapphie smiled ruefully. “I know all the reasons why it would be wrong, but I wonder if I was too hasty saying we shouldn’t see each other.”
He told himself not to get excited. That didn’t mean she’d changed her mind.
“I see.” This was another of those tricky moments. One wrong word or move and...game over.
“Ordinarily, I might say what the heck and give it a shot. But the Ice Cats acquisition is a major complication. And I don’t mix business with pleasure. Plus I don’t do serious and you don’t do casual.”
“What if I was prepared to ease up a little?” Where the hell had that come from?
“I can’t see you ever settling for a sex buddy and that’s the only arrangement that will work for me.”
He tamped down the urge to disagree. That wasn’t him, for sure. But the alternative was having no personal connection with Sapphie and he didn’t want that either. There had to be some way to bridge the gap.
“Can’t we just hang out together, as friends? Go for a drink, maybe the occasional meal, like tonight. At least until your time with the Ice Cats is done.”
She tilted her head and studied him carefully. “I suppose we could. But we’d have to set up some rules in advance so we’re both absolutely clear where we stand. What’s acceptable and what’s not.”
“Sounds really formal.” Scott frowned. “Can’t we just play it by ear?”
She looked dubious. “There’s a lot of chemistry between us. What if one of us decides to add benefits to that friendship?”
Though he was pleased she’d admitted that the attraction, the heat, was there, his gut tightened at her question. “We’re adults, not teenagers. We can handle it.”
At least, he hoped he could. If not, he could lose even her friendship and he couldn’t stand the thought of that. It would be tough, but it was worth trying. “We don’t need to worry about that until your contract is over. Until then, we simply enjoy each other’s company.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “I guess we could give it a shot.”
“Great.” He deliberately kept his arms at his sides to keep from reaching out for her. “In that case, good night. See you tomorrow.”
“Safe trip home. Sleep well.” She opened her car door and tossed her purse onto the passenger seat. Then she reached up, bussed his cheek and gave him what was meant to be a quick hug.
His hands had other ideas. Before she could pull away—and definitely without his permission—they drew Sapphie closer, until she was pressed against him. His arms wrapped around her, not too tightly, ready to let her go the minute she showed signs of wanting to be released from his embrace.
She stiffened but didn’t move away. She tilted her head and met his gaze.
* * *
“DIDN’T WE JUST talk about this?” Sapphie tried to lighten the moment with a smile. Unfortunately, the husky words sounded anything but light.
“Uh-huh.” Scotty nodded once, slowly.
She brought her hands up, ostensibly to push out of his embrace. Only, she didn’t. She rested them on his chest. Her fingers fiddled with the lapels of his jacket until she registered what she was doing and stilled them.
“So...um...isn’t this classed as benefits?”
“What do you think?” His palm rubbed her back gently, sending tingles through her.
“I suppose, technically, we weren’t talking about hugs or kisses. Friends hug. But do they kiss? Obviously, they do on the cheek, but...” She was babbling again. “This is why we need rules.”
“Tell me what you want and I’ll abide by it.”
She wanted to kiss him. For kisses to be allowed. But that would be a mistake. Wouldn’t it? Kisses might—almost certainly would—lead to other things and... Now she was babbling in her head.
Sapphie narrowed her gaze. “You’re not being much help.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put us...you...in an awkward situation.” He eased away and released her.
Despite the hot night air, she felt chilled by the loss of his warmth. She rubbed her hands along her arms. “No need to apologize. It’s that chemistry. Kind of hard to resist.”
