“Well,” Dan takes a gulp of his water and then pins me with a glare, “there better be plenty of chicks, or just note that I’ve got dibs on Natalie.”
“No dibs,” I demand. “She’s off-limits.”
“Why do you keep saying that?”
I grin at my friends. “Because she’ll break your heart. And I damn sure don’t need you calling me up and asking what you did wrong.”
Mark snorted. “Like that would happen.”
I glance over at Deter, who looks away sheepishly.
Yeah. It’s happened, just not with Natalie.
Yet.
“Did you hear that the foundation director quit this morning?” Mark asks, his dark eyes swinging between me and Deter.
“What?” Dan looks a little thrown by this news. “Why?”
Mark shrugs. “No idea, but I don’t think it was on good terms.”
I’ve been in this organization long enough that I know most of the people, but I can’t say I know much about Leena Acevedo, the director of the Texas Tornadoes Foundation. That probably has a lot to do with the fact that she hit on me back when I first came to Texas. I’m all for mixing it up with the ladies, but I make a point not to get involved with the women I work with. For one, rumors spread like wildfire and no one is going to accuse me of doing something I shouldn’t. Screwing the higher-ups is something I shouldn’t be doing, regardless.
“Why would you think that?” Deter inquires.
I have to say, Dan’s eyes are a little wide right now, perhaps even slightly panicked. I narrow my gaze on him. “What did you do?”
Dan’s head jerks toward me. “Me? Nothing. What the hell are you talking about?”
Mark obviously gets where I’m going with this because he turns to Deter. I can practically see his brain working. “Did you fuck her?”
“What? God, no.” His laugh borders on hysterical.
“Like he’d tell us if he did,” Mark mutters.
I continue to watch Dan, waiting for him to crack under pressure.
Five…
Four…
Three…
Two…
“Fine,” Dan blurts. “But it was only twice.”
I lift my eyebrows, still waiting.
“A day,” Dan notes, his eyes lowering, his head tilting down in what looks a hell of a lot like defeat. “For a week.”
“Holy shit.” Mark barks out a laugh. “And you pissed her off to the point she quit?”
“Of course not!” Dan lifts his head. “It was a long time ago, anyway. She’s been screwing Peterson.”
James Peterson is our goalie. He’s a beast in the net, but he does seem to play it loose with the ladies. Not that I have room to talk.
“Wait,” Mark interjects. “I heard Peterson talking about a chick he was banging. Said she got a little psycho and he had to break it off. You don’t think he was talking about her, do you?”
I laugh.
Dan shrugs.
Another reason not to mix business with pleasure.
Cassie
“Hey, boss lady,” Natalie greets as she steps into my office. “Mr. Bradburn asked if you could carve ten minutes into your afternoon to meet with him.”
Shit.
Tearing my eyes off the email I’m drafting, I look up to see Natalie leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest. Today she’s wearing one of those bohemian skirts that swishes against her ankles when she walks and a billowy copper-colored shirt that makes her brown eyes brighter. She looks both professional and casual, a look that I could not pull off if I wanted to. Which I don’t, if I’m being honest. I strive to look professional, nothing more, nothing less. It has gotten me far in my career, and though I sometimes envy Natalie when she wears jeans on Fridays, I know better than to allow myself to get that comfortable. I haven’t made it to the top yet.
“Of course,” I tell her.
“So, you’ve got an answer for him?”
Wide eyes full of curiosity peer back at me and I take a deep breath. “Of course,” I repeat.
“So you’re going to do it? The keynote thing?”
I lean back in my chair, wishing the nervous flutter would die down in my belly. It’s been there since Tom made the offer. I’m equal parts intrigued and terrified with the idea of being the keynote speaker. When I mentioned it at my Toastmasters meeting yesterday, I was given overwhelming support. However, it still makes me nervous. I’ve commanded plenty of meetings, but nothing of this magnitude. It requires a level of discipline that will likely make me sweat.
“Yes,” I say, definitively, as much for Natalie’s benefit as my own.
Natalie’s arms drop to her sides. “I bow down to you, my queen. You’re going to blow their minds.”
“I don’t know about that,” I tell her, meeting her gaze. “If I don’t freeze or throw up, we’ll be doing good.”
“It’s going to be great. Plus, with you being the keynote speaker, that means I get to go to Vegas, too.”
“You were going anyway,” I inform her.
“Not necessarily true.” Natalie quirks a brow, pursing her lips. “An email came out about second-quarter budget cuts. I figure that’s their way of saying only critical personnel will be going to Vegas.”
I grin. “You are critical personnel.”
Natalie chuckles. “I like to think so.” Turning on her heel, she shoots a quick backward glance. “I’ll tell Mr. Bradburn’s security guard that you’ll be there at one thirty.”
“Lisa is his assistant,” I say.
“Someone should tell her that,” Natalie calls out from her desk outside my office.
My eyes instantly drop to the clock on my laptop. “Wait. That’s fifteen minutes from now.”
“I know!” she hollers back. “Less time for you to think about backing out.”
I chuckle because Natalie knows me so well.
Twenty minutes later, after getting past the security of Tom’s assistant, I’m sitting in the man’s office, my butt planted in the chair across from Tom’s desk. I make sure my posture is perfect, my back straight, shoulders squared, ankles crossed.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” he says, poking several keys on his laptop, then closing the lid and giving me his full attention. “I know you’re busy.”
Busy is an understatement in my world. With the last of our new applications under intense scrutiny, I’ve been up to my ears in meetings and final demonstrations. We’ve addressed the last of the bugs and the only thing left is the final sign-off, but even my team knows it must be perfect or my signature won’t be coming.
“How are things coming along, anyway?” he inquires.
“We’re on target.” I know better than to tell him anything different.
Tom Bradburn has been my boss since I came to Texas. He’s youngish, I like to say. Mid-forties, stylish, smart. Tom has a head full of gray hair, but as it does for most men, the look makes him seem cool, confident, refined even.
Not to mention, Tom is one of the greatest men I’ve ever worked for. He’s one of those guys who gives you free rein until you screw things up. So far, he and I have gotten along swimmingly. I have yet to screw up. At least not to the point that it was brought to his attention.
“Since we’re down to the wire, I need to get your answer on the keynote.” He smiles, leaning forward with his forearms resting on the top of his desk. His stance is casual, his brown eyes warm and friendly. “I know I left the decision up to you, but I want you to know I’m your champion in this. This is your moment to shine. It’s not public knowledge, but there are some opportunities coming up in the near future.”
I want to ask him how near, but that really doesn’t matter.
“And I can tell you, the opportunities could pertain to you directly.”
That definitely captures my interest. Mainly because the only opportunity for advancement that I have right now would be to move into Tom’s job as president of research and development
, which encompasses my division and several others. Because I enjoy working for Tom, I haven’t laid out my objectives for moving into that position, although he has admitted to be grooming me.
“Are you going somewhere?” I’m torn between being excited for something more challenging and being concerned that my boss might have one foot out the door.
“It’s undecided at this time. That’s all I can say. So…” His smile widens. “What’ll it be, Cass? You up for the challenge of being the keynote speaker at the biggest event this company has seen in the past seven years?”
“Of course.” The words come out smoothly, but they are in direct contradiction to the churning in my stomach.
I have no problem commanding a room full of people, directing them on objectives, steering presentations, guiding them toward an end goal. However, I’m not sure I’m the most suited for drumming up excitement for the sizable audience that we’re going to have for this keynote.
“Perfect.” Tom’s hands go right for his laptop. He opens the lid, then places his fingers on the keyboard. “I’m locking that in right now.” He passes over a smile. “You’re gonna be great, Cass. Just remember, casual but professional. This is Vegas, after all.”
“I’m not sure I can do casual,” I mumble to myself, although the words come out loud enough that he can definitely hear them.
“Of course you can. You’ve got this. I have complete faith in your abilities.” His attention returns to his laptop.
Realizing I’m being dismissed, I get to my feet and slide my hands down my skirt to straighten it. “Thanks, Tom. I’m excited about the opportunity.”
He chuckles. “Don’t lie to me, kid. I know better.”
I laugh as I move toward the door.
“That doesn’t mean you won’t knock ’em dead.”
At least someone has confidence that I’ll get through this unscathed.
Luckily, I’ve got several weeks to get in that same frame of mind, because I’m going to need every single second.
Chapter 7
According to Chase, his teammates are like family to him. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them, and he says the reverse is also true. When I asked him if he would trust one of them with his sister, his answer was simple: “Thank God, I don’t have a sister, so I get to plead the fifth.”
—Excerpt from Sports Unlimited’s Bad Boys of Sports edition
Chase
“This is quite the spread, Sin,” Deter says to me when he returns to the kitchen to grab another beer.
“Kudos go to Natalie,” I say. “She handled every bit of it.”
“She’s the kind of woman I need to have around my house,” Marky Mark notes.
“You did not just say that.” Cassie’s tone is stern, a smile tugging at her lips. “For one, I’ve seen your house.”
That statement draws plenty of laughter from the group standing around.
“Hey, I take offense to that.” Mark’s still grinning.
“You should,” Cassie adds with a snort. “There’s a reason you aren’t married. No woman wants to clean up your dirty socks. Those things practically stand on their own.” Her eyes cut to mine. “Like Chase’s.”
“Hey!” I take a long pull on my beer. “It takes skill to make that happen.”
“Of course it does.”
“Plus,” Cassie continues, her eyes drifting back over to Mark, “Natalie likes to cook.”
“You’re right,” Mark tells her, his smile so wide, his eyes nearly disappear behind his cheeks. “I’d be as big as a house if I had a woman like her around.”
Cassie reaches out and pushes Mark. “You’re a pig.”
Of course, Mark’s only response is to snort back at her.
“So, I heard you got some big-time speaking thing,” Deter prompts. “Congrats.”
Cassie’s eyes slam into me and I shrug. What? I’m proud of her. I have to tell these people. They’re my friends.
“Yeah.” Cassie smiles. “Thanks.”
Deter props himself against the counter and stares at her. “You excited?”
“No.” She’s lying, I can tell.
“You nervous?” he asks.
“Of course she’s not nervous,” I tell him. “She’s going to kill this.”
“I believe it.” Deter looks as though he means that.
“Vegas, huh? You ever been?” Mark asks.
“Who hasn’t been to Vegas?” Natalie questions when she walks into the kitchen to join us. “Seriously. If you haven’t been to Vegas, then you can’t claim to be an adult.”
I notice the way Mark is watching her carefully. He’s had his eye on Natalie since she walked in the door wearing those tight jeans and a bright red halter, her lips painted to match. Then again, he’s had his eye on Natalie since the first day I introduced them. As much as I hem and haw over her being off-limits, I honestly don’t see that lasting forever. These two are adults. One day they’ll give in to temptation and then heaven help Marky Mark. He’ll be ruined for life.
“You a gambler, Nat?” Mark asks her.
Her eyes rake over him slowly, as though he just asked if she wanted to sample the goods. “Depends on my mood.”
Oh, hell.
I peer over at Cassie and she’s the one shrugging this time. She knows it as well as I do, those two are going to do the nasty one of these days. I can only hope they can be adult about it afterward.
“Why?” Natalie turns to Mark. “Are you a bettin’ man?”
Of course, Marky Mark’s eyes travel from Natalie’s head all the way down to her toes. That’s my cue to move on. I grab Cassie’s hand and tug her along with me.
“If he’s not, I am,” I hear Deter say as I drag Cassie into the living room.
“No one needs to see that,” I tell her under my breath. “It’s going to result in a fiery crash.”
Cassie chuckles. “You don’t know that.”
I turn to look her directly in the eye. “You want to bet money on that one, Desrosiers?”
Cassie glances back into the kitchen, where Natalie is still talking to Deter and Mark. When she looks back at me, she’s grinning. “My money’s on Natalie.” Her grin widens. “I’m going to say she can convert a horndog like Mark and make him into a man.”
I laugh, a roaring sound that catches the attention of several others. I wave them off and return my attention to Cassie. “You’re on.”
“What are we wagering?”
Good question. “Shit if I know, but I’ll come up with something.”
“Before the night’s out, Barrett,” she insists. “I know you. You’ll wait to see how this plays out, then decide what you want.”
She knows me well. I think on it a minute, watching the people who are filling up my living room. The party has turned out great, if I do say so myself. Several of the guys brought their wives, a couple brought their girlfriends, and of course, a few brought dates. So far, it’s been tame. And by tame, I mean no one has ended up in the pool yet, but I figure that’s coming sooner rather than later.
I snap my fingers, then turn to Cassie. “If I win—”
“What constitutes a win?” Cassie interjects. “We have to clarify that first.”
“Natalie and Marky Mark clash and things get ugly,” I tell her honestly. “Before we go to see the folks at the end of the month.”
Her eyebrows twitch. “Wow, you’re such a romantic.”
I shrug. “That’s me.”
She takes a sip of wine. “Okay, fine. Keep going.”
“Should they have a falling-out after”—I wave my arm in a circle—“whatever it is they’re doing, then I win,” I explain. “And you have to be my personal servant for a month.”
Cassie snorts. “Servant? What exactly does that entail?”
“Whatever I say.”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Fine,” she concedes. “And if I win, you have to be my personal servant for a month.” Her grin widens. “And that means you do an
ything I say.”
“Anything?”
“Yep.” She giggles. “If I want you to wear panties, you’ll wear panties.”
I choke on my beer, my eyes bulging out of their sockets as I stare at her. I’m almost positive my stomach dropped right to my feet. “What?”
More giggling ensues and I keep my eye on Cassie, wondering just how much she’s had to drink.
“Yes,” she states firmly, her gaze sliding over to Marky Mark and Natalie, then back to me. “I like this.”
“Anything goes?” I confirm.
“Yep.” She locks eyes with me. “Of course, it has to be legal.”
“Of course. And who chooses when it starts?”
“The winner.”
“A solid month.” I repeat.
“One whole month. Thirty days.”
“You sound awfully confident that you’ll win.”
“I know Natalie,” she says sweetly. “She’ll have Marky Mark wrapped around her little finger.”
Cassie holds out her hand to shake on it.
I do the same. “Shit.” I never would wish any ill will on my friends, but being Cassie’s personal servant for a month is not something I look forward to. “You’re evil,” I tell her. “Pure evil.”
“No, I’m a genius.”
“Call it what you will.” I turn her so she can see Natalie and Marky Mark. “But it won’t matter in the end.”
We watch as Natalie shoves her finger in Mark’s face to make a point.
I turn back to face my best friend, offering my best smile. “Because I’m going to win.”
Cassie
Honestly, I have to wonder how long Chase has been sitting on that one.
Sure, we’ve had plenty of bets over the years, but personal servant? That’s a first.
And yes, for the record, I hope Natalie knows what she’s doing. Or that at a minimum she has the decency to make whatever this thing is with Mark last at least until we leave for Wisconsin. Otherwise, I’m going to be in over my head. I can only imagine what Chase will have me do. Wash his laundry, buy his groceries, detail his car. Knowing him, he’ll have me giving him foot rubs every night before he goes to bed. There’s no telling with Chase, but whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll be ridiculously creative.
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