Seth finished his lifting and got in a run before he strolled into John’s office at a little after seven AM. The meeting he’d asked for two days ago via text wasn’t actually until eight AM, but he wanted to say what he had to say and get out before Jillian arrived for work.
Maybe he was taking all of this a little too seriously, but Jillian was pulling away from him. He’d called. She’d barely talked with him. On the flight back he’d finally remembered she’d said something when he was half asleep early Saturday morning about John. About how he wasn’t thrilled that Seth and Jillian were romantically involved. Seth couldn’t figure out what else was going on with her. He had a few ideas, though. He knew that John’s opinion mattered a lot to her, and he’d learned over the past few months that she really needed security. She worried about losing her job or any other situation that could leave her alone and scrambling for the things other people took for granted, like paying the rent or supportive family members.
It pissed him off that John had evidently decided Seth’s personal life was his business.
John didn’t bother glancing up from his tablet.
“I thought we agreed on eight,” he said.
John hadn’t had a lot of sleep in the past forty-eight hours. Seth would bet a large amount on the fact that the guys who kept the Sharks’ plane in tip-top shape were about to suffer significant consequences, due to the team’s being stranded in California until Monday night.
“I have to get checked out by the trainers at eight,” Seth said. “I’m here now.”
“What do you need, Taylor?”
Seth lowered himself into a chair in front of John’s desk and reached back to shove the office door closed. He heard the latch click as it engaged.
“Maybe we should start this conversation by your explaining exactly why you told Jillian she shouldn’t be with me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” John must have decided it was a good time to acknowledge there was someone in his office. He stared into Seth’s face. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then what did you say to her? She seemed pretty convinced you told her not to see me. And I don’t appreciate it.”
“This must be like that old kids’ game from the playground—Telephone, wasn’t it? One kid whispers something to the kid next to him, it goes around the circle, and by the time it gets back to the original source, it’s not the same message.” John let out a long breath. “I know that Jillian wants a husband and a family. Maybe not at the moment, but she’d like one in the future. I talked to her a little about the fact that most pro athletes aren’t interested in permanent relationships. The divorce rate among NFL players is higher than the national average, for instance. She should know before she gets involved with you that she may never have the things she wants most in life.”
Seth’s mouth dropped open. “You have no idea what my plans are for her.”
“She’s a good person. She deserves a man who’s in 100 percent, not someone who’s going to bolt when he finds someone younger and more beautiful.” John narrowed his eyes a bit. “If I had a daughter of my own, I’d want her to be a lot like Jillian. I suppose I’m a little protective of her as a result.”
Seth stared at John. What the hell was this? And why would John think he’d dump Jillian for anyone else? It was ridiculous.
“She’s afraid she’s going to lose her job if we’re together.”
“I told her it didn’t matter to me if she got involved with you. I am telling you, though—she wants to get married and have a family. If you don’t want those things, get out now before you really hurt her and you have a lot more to worry about from me.” John shoved his glasses up on his nose. “Is there another topic you’d like to discuss?”
“I don’t like finding out that my boss has such a low opinion of me as a person.”
John folded his lips. “Then maybe you shouldn’t borrow trouble, Taylor. If she really wanted you, nothing I said to her would make any difference, would it?”
Now it was Seth’s turn to stare at John in disbelief. He’d not only insulted Seth, but he’d doubled down on it. He and John weren’t best buddies, but Seth had always thought their interactions were cordial and mutually respectful. Evidently, he’d had it all wrong.
Seth stood up from the chair and gave John a nod.
“Thanks for your time, John.”
John responded with a grunt.
Seth needed to get to the bottom of all of this, but it was going to have to wait. In the meantime, he was now wondering if he was the one who had been played. Had she decided she wanted to step back, and she was using her job as an excuse? Why would she do that? All she had to do was tell him she’d changed her mind and it wasn’t working, which had to be a lie.
Everything seemed to be fine (and hotter than fire between them) last Friday. By Sunday, it was a completely different story, and today, he was left wondering what the hell was going on. It hurt more than anything. The only way to find out what happened was to talk with Jillian.
JILLIAN GLANCED AT the clock later that day. A quarter to six. She already had a lump in her stomach, and she wasn’t sure that having this conversation with Seth in a public place was the best decision.
John had been like a bear with a sticker in his paw all day long, but his previous nastiness toward her had mellowed somewhat.
“Hey, Jillian,” he called out from his office. “Will you come in here for a minute?”
“Sure,” she said. She got up from her desk and walked into his office.
“Shut the door,” he said.
She swallowed hard and nudged the door shut with one hand.
He gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. “Sit down,” he said.
“Are you firing me?” she said.
“No. Of course not.” He leaned back in his chair. “I have a couple of things to talk with you about, and I’d prefer that they remain between us for the moment.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t sure what to think. John looked exhausted. Nobody must have slept while the team was in San Francisco.
“First of all, I had a meeting with Seth Taylor this morning. I want to reinforce to you again that I told you the things I did last week because I want you to make an informed choice, not because I’m trying to control your love life.” He let out a breath. “I think a lot of you, Jillian, as a person and as an employee. You have done a great job for me and for the organization. I know I don’t tell you that enough.”
“Thank you,” she said. He still wasn’t smiling, but she felt relief surge through her.
“Having said all of this, I have some information that I am entrusting to you. The paperwork will come across your desk, and you will be cc’d on e-mails over the next few days, so I didn’t want this to come as a shock. This information must remain secret until I discuss it with the media at a press conference next week. Also, there will be a change in your status in about a month.”
She stared at him in surprise. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
He leaned forward in his desk chair. “Remember the poker game I asked you to arrange?”
“Yes.”
“We actually ended up playing in Vegas the night before last, which is part of the story. The part that affects you, however, is the following. I am not the controlling owner of the Sharks anymore.”
“What?” she blurted out. “Did you sell the team?”
“Not exactly.” He let out a long breath. “I’m getting older, and I have had health problems. I have been thinking about what to do with the team for a while now. My family members are older too. They’re not willing to take on the demands of team ownership. So, let’s just say someone else is taking over as a result of the poker game. The team will be under new ownership as soon as we dot the i’s and cross the t’s. Lawyers are involved,” he joked.
“You won’t be here every day anymore?”
“No. And that’s what I need to discuss with you.”
“Of course not,” he said. “Here’s what I have for you. You have three choices. It’s up to you which one you take.”
John explained that she could remain his executive assistant. She wouldn’t be working for the Sharks anymore; she’d be working for him at his offices at Carillon Point in Kirkland. The second choice would be working for the new owner of the Sharks.
“He’s someone you’ve met, and I know he would be happy to have an executive assistant who’s familiar with what needs to happen around here on a daily basis,” John said.
Jillian nodded. She was a little dazed.
“The last choice is one I think you might dump both of us for,” he said. “The team is creating a new executive-level job. You’d be responsible for planning and executing the Sharks’ charity events year-round. You’re perfect for it. You would be working with your own assistant and the PR department, and there’s a significant raise involved. If you want this, you’ll start the job after my press conference, and the new owner will have to find his own assistant.” John grinned at her. “Of course, we’re offering full benefits, paid 401(k), four weeks of vacation a year to start, and two free suite tickets for every game.” He grabbed a piece of scratch paper off of his desk, wrote something on it, folded it in half, and passed it across his desk to her. “Here’s the starting salary. Of course, this is open for negotiation, and there would be a salary bump after ninety days.”
Jillian took the piece of paper off his desk, unfolded it, and read the number he’d written. She thought she was seeing things. It was double her current salary and more than she dreamed she’d make a year in her life.
“This is a lot of money.”
“Then take it,” John said. “You’ll be able to buy a house. You’ll make enough on your own to be independent.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“So think about it overnight,” he said. “We can talk more in the morning. I want you to remember, though: You’ll need to keep everything I’ve told you secret for at least another two weeks. Got it?”
SETH WATCHED JILLIAN walk out of John’s office a few minutes later. She was pale. She also looked as exhausted as he felt. Maybe they should agree to have their conversation another time so everyone could get a good night’s sleep first. Then again, he wasn’t sure he would sleep until he found out what in the hell was wrong between them.
She opened her desk drawer, shoved a piece of paper into her handbag, and reached to hit the button on her desk phone that sent all calls to voice mail overnight. The slowness of her movements and the fact she still hadn’t glanced up at him told him that her mind wasn’t anywhere near her job right now. She put both hands down on her desk and hung her head for a few moments.
“Jill?” he said.
She jerked upward like a marionette whose handler was pulling the strings. “Oh. Oh. You’re there,” she said.
“Yes. I am. Why don’t we go and get some dinner?”
“Sure,” she said. She gave him a stiff little nod, and he saw the wall go right back up between them.
After a short skirmish over who was driving, Jillian insisted on taking separate cars. He revised his opinion from “something’s wrong” to “something is horribly wrong” before she followed him out of the Sharks’ parking lot. He’d already asked Owen to make dinner for them at his place; it might be good to have the conversation he’d planned without every other person in a restaurant listening in. Baked ziti; a garden salad; and flatbread brushed with olive oil, sprinkled with herbs, and baked in the oven waited for them, as well as a bottle of wine.
He pulled into his garage. He motioned for Jillian to pull her car in next to his, but she shook her head and parked in his driveway. Dread washed over him like the tide. Unless he was mistaken, he was about to get dumped.
She got out of her car and walked toward him. He drank her in with his eyes. He’d waited days to hold her in his arms again. She stopped a foot or so away as the garage door closed behind them. The normally smiling and effervescent Jillian was anything but, and the lump in his stomach grew.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi there,” she said. She looked wary. He couldn’t imagine where the sweet Jillian that would run into his arms and hug him with all of her strength had gone.
“May I kiss you?” he said.
She swallowed hard. He held out his arms, and she walked into them. He felt her arms slide around his waist as he tipped her chin up. He rested his cheek against her much softer one.
“Jill, what’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”
She was trembling. He heard the telltale catches in her breathing that preceded tears. He felt like someone had swung a wrecking ball into his gut. First the shock, and then the pain.
“Please tell me what I did wrong,” he whispered. “I’ll do anything to fix it.”
“You can’t fix it,” she said. “We don’t want the same things.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You never wanted someone like me. You’ll get bored, you’ll want someone else, and it will break my heart,” she said.
He closed his eyes. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“But you will,” she said. “You don’t want someone permanent. You want someone you’ll be with for a while, and when it doesn’t work, you’ll move on. You’ve done it before.” Her voice wasn’t accusatory or strident. It was sad. “I want someone permanent. I want to fall in love. I want a home and a family. And I’m not sure you’re going to want any of those things at any time soon. You might not want them at all. I can’t pressure you into it, either. It has to be your choice, or it doesn’t work. We’re just two people who want different things.”
If she’d been nasty or cutting, he would have retaliated. He would survive it, get pissed off, and tell himself it was her goddamn problem. It wasn’t her problem. It was his. And he wasn’t sure how he was ever going to get over the idea that to love was to expose himself to loss. Again. He’d opened his heart to Jillian, but she saw something everyone else he’d dated and his own family didn’t see: He hadn’t given his whole self to her. He held back, and he always had. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if he was all in and she walked away. It wasn’t survivable.
“Jill, I don’t want to lose you.” He cupped her face in his hands. Her features blurred as tears rose in his eyes.
“I don’t want to lose you, either,” she said. “But maybe we need to think for a while.”
“So we’re taking a break.”
She nodded.
He rested his forehead against hers.
“A little time-out,” she whispered.
“A few days to think,” he said. God, he wanted to scream with agony, and he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation at all. Having it in a cold, barely finished garage seemed even worse.
“Yes.”
His mouth brushed hers, and he tilted his head to kiss her again. He explored her mouth with his tongue. He couldn’t bear to think this might be the last time he tasted the sweetness of her mouth, breathed in her soft vanilla scent, or felt the warmth of her body against his, so he wouldn’t. Her arms were still loosely clasped around his waist. She didn’t squeeze him tight or cuddle into him at all.
“Are you in as much pain as I am right now?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then why are we doing this?”
She pulled away from him, reached out to touch the garage door opener, and walked out to her car. She got in and drove away without another word.
Chapter Twenty-One
SETH WALKED INTO his house a few minutes later on legs that felt like they were made of lead. He’d been through breakups before—even if she’d softened the blow by calling it “taking a break.” It hurt for a few days, and then he moved on. He knew this wasn’t going to stop hurting any time soon. He wanted to be mad at Ji
llian; he couldn’t. She was right.
He’d pursued her, but he wasn’t looking for always. And he should have been, especially with her. He’d been with women who fit the mold of what a pro athlete should be dating—beautiful, accomplished, and desired by many other men. He wasn’t happy when he was with them, though. It was expected. They weren’t soul mates. They didn’t wrap him in their arms and listen while he described the most painful experience of his life. They didn’t know him better than he knew himself and care for him anyway.
The lights were on in his kitchen.
“Hey, Owen,” he called out.
“I’m here, bro,” Owen said. “How are ya?”
Guys shook hands with each other all day long and never divulged what was really going on with them. It was part of being a man, to not show emotion or to exhibit anything but self-confidence bordering on cockiness in every situation. Tonight, he needed a beer. Maybe he’d go sit on the new bench he’d had installed in his backyard for Liam and try to figure out what he should do next.
His little brother would have told him to pull his head out of his ass. He would have told him that he knew the first time he’d met Jillian that there was something about her, something he needed, and he couldn’t seem to stay away from her. Liam would have told Seth he was damn lucky to meet a woman who wanted to be his friend as well as his lover, and if she cared for him enough to want to spend her life with him, maybe he should consider himself lucky she’d consider marrying him in the first place. That is, if she did consider it.
“I’ve been better,” he said.
“I heard a car drive away,” Owen said. “I thought you left.”
“No. Jillian left,” he said. He reached out for the refrigerator handle, pulled it open, and grabbed a beer off of the shelf. “Want one?”
Chasing Jillian: A Love and Football Novel Page 20
