by Lea Coll
CALLIE
“Are you ready for this?” Reid sat in one of the plush leather seats at the head of the conference table.
I still wasn’t sure I was the best candidate for the job, but I was determined to prove myself. “Absolutely.”
We’d talked more about the job and expectations over the weekend, planning to meet at the complex first thing on Monday morning.
“I know we talked about Jonah and Chase being silent partners, but with Jonah’s injury, things have changed.”
My heart rate picked up. “What do you mean things have changed?”
My stomach did a slow slide as Jonah Templeton walked into the room with an easy smile, only faltering slightly when his gaze touched on me.
Was he remembering that kiss? Did he think about it when he was lying in bed at night, or did he think it was a mistake?
He wore a white button-down shirt tucked into suit pants, so different from the athletic gear I was used to seeing him in. The stark white of his shirt emphasized his tan skin and blue eyes.
“You started without me?” His tone was gently chiding as if he belonged here, as if he owned the place, which technically he did.
He pulled out a chair, sitting across from me.
Why was he here? I looked to Reid for an explanation.
“I was explaining the situation to Callie,” Reid said easily as if my pulse wasn’t racing.
“The situation?” I asked, looking from Reid to Jonah. Was I being pushed out? Did Reid not need me anymore because Jonah was the new manager?
No. Reid wouldn’t do that to me, not when I needed this job to support my grandfather, who still sat in a nursing home north of Baltimore.
Jonah clasped his hands in front of him on the table. “I’m going to be overseeing Rebel Sports.”
My brain scrambled to keep up. “I thought…”
I couldn’t voice it out loud. The disappointment was like a knife in my chest. I wanted to pull it out, but I couldn’t. I needed to feel the pain, remember why things never worked out for me.
Images flew through my head, graduating without my parents in the audience, staying home and attending evening classes rather than moving away to college, and living in the dorms like my friends had. When my parents died, my hopes and dreams did too. This was the first thing that felt close to the life I’d imagined before.
Reid’s jaw tightened. “Not exactly. You’ll be working together.”
I shifted through the papers on the table in front of me, the words blurring as I tried to take a deep breath. I wanted to sink into the floor beneath my feet and disappear, but I wasn’t that weak child anymore, I was strong. I could stand up for myself. “I thought Jonah and Chase wouldn’t be involved.”
When he’d offered me the job, Reid assured me I’d have autonomy.
“I know that’s what we talked about, but Jonah wants to be more involved.” Reid’s eyes were pleading.
All the guys were worried about Jonah since his injury. I’d do anything for Reid, but I didn’t think I could handle working with Jonah, especially after that kiss. There was something in Jonah’s eyes Saturday night that drew me in—a vulnerability—it was so different than his usual confidence. Would he act like nothing happened between us? Did I want him to?
Jonah was the fun guy in the locker room. The one everyone gravitated to for a good time, a laugh, or a pick-me-up. After his injury, he was different―grumpy, quicker to snap. Everyone understood why—his career was on the line. Even if he could play again, sportscasters and coaches would always speculate if he was one hundred percent. An injury like that would follow him for the rest of his career.
“I’m focusing on the complex since I can’t—”
“Since you might not be able to play anymore.” The words shot out before I could retract them.
Jonah looked away but not before I saw the pained expression on his face.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I should have softened my words. I shouldn’t have brought up his injury. I knew it was devastating for him and his career, but the complex was supposed to be my chance, not only to prove myself but to support myself and pay back my student loans. I didn’t have parents to fall back on. I had a grandfather in a nursing home to support.
Reid shot me a reproachful look.
The guys never talked about Jonah’s injuries in terms of not playing again. It was always, when he’s healthy enough, or when he comes back.”
“My focus is on the sports complex.” Jonah swallowed hard, as if saying those words was difficult. “I want to make sure the grand opening is a success.”
“It will be.” Was he insinuating I couldn’t handle it, or was he distracting himself from his injury? The resolve I’d shored up when he walked into the room slowly dissolved.
I was devastated when he’d sustained that hard tackle in the end zone of the last playoff game, ending Baltimore’s playoff bid and potentially his career. If I’d learned anything being Reid’s assistant over the last three years, it was that football was life for these guys. Most of them lived and breathed the game. It was all they talked about, all they did. To have that potentially taken away before he was ready had to be scary. I sympathized with him.
Jonah tipped his head. “I’ll make sure of it. We’re on the same page.”
“Actually, we’re not. I’m the manager.” My heart thumped wildly in my chest as I waited for Reid to agree.
Reid held a hand up as if that act alone would ease the tensions in the room. “Jonah wants to step in. He’s an investor. He has every right to be involved in the day-to-day decisions.”
I could see what Reid was trying to tell me, Jonah needed this distraction. What if he never played again? The words rested in the air between us.
I swallowed over the lump in my throat. Ultimately, it was Reid’s decision. He’d come up with the idea of a private sports complex not run by the county recreation department, catering to kids who needed an outlet. He and Dylan wanted to offer used and new equipment to any athlete who needed it, even scholarships for kids who couldn’t afford to join a team. I loved his vision. I was lucky enough to work with him, someone who had enough money to make those visions a reality.
Reid gave each of us a pointed look. “I need to know that you two can work together.”
A flush crept up my neck remembering how I’d wanted to straddle Jonah at the bar, kissing him. The feel of his hands in my hair and on my body was burned into my memory. I licked my suddenly dry lips, trying to remember why we were here. If it came down to it, Jonah was part owner, I was the expendable one.
“I can do that.” My voice wavered slightly.
My curiosity about him hadn’t been quelled by kissing him that night in the bar, it had only burned hotter. There was more to him than the easygoing persona he showed to everyone. This was an opportunity to figure him out.
“It won’t be a problem.” Jonah’s jaw was tight.
The high I’d been riding since securing this job dimmed. I’d no longer be responsible for the decisions. I’d be working with Jonah. I had a feeling he wouldn’t make it easy.
“Good.” Reid shifted through the papers I’d placed on the table before the meeting. “We need to discuss the next few weeks.”
I sat across from Jonah, trying to ignore his larger-than-life presence as he settled his elbows on the table, focusing on Reid.
“We have the grand opening in three weeks. We need to outline the programs we’ll offer, set up the used and new equipment program, and finalize the website.”
This was where I felt most confident. Organization was my strong suit. I’d already contacted the website developer, Ava Breslin, after Reid outlined my duties on Sunday. “Ava will have the final revisions for the website completed today for you to review.”
Nolan, one of the contractors for the sports complex, referred his fiancée’s sister, Ava Breslin, to Reid.
“Good. We’ll need the team sign-up page ready to go
before the grand opening.”
“She assured me it will be.”
Reid hired Morrison Brothers’ Construction, owned by his friend Cade, to build the complex. Cade had taken it on with the promise it would be completed before preseason started in July.
“The grand opening will be this weekend, so three weeks from now.” I pointed at the calendar Reid had placed on the table between us. “I thought we’d have games and programs to entice parents with children to come and have fun, see the facility, maybe sign up for a sport. It would have a festival feel.”
“Why not invite the rest of the team, make it a meet and greet? I know they’d want to support us. That would attract media attention.” Jonah mentioned publicity like it was a good thing, but Reid generally avoided that type of attention even though he’d recently come clean about his speech impediment.
“I want the focus on the community, not the players.” Reid rubbed a hand over his chin as he considered it.
“The fact that the owners are football players is bound to come up. I think we need to go with that angle,” Jonah insisted.
This was a common bone of contention between them. As Reid’s personal assistant, I’d been front and center when Jonah or Chase, the other captains of the team, wanted to do something that required publicity, and Reid wanted to avoid it.
“You know Lena would like it,” Jonah said, referencing the team’s head of public relations.
Reid made a face. “I don’t do things based on what Lena would do.”
I took that moment to study Jonah. He was more put together than Saturday night. His shoulders were broad under his white shirt, his hands large and calloused from throwing the football and weight training, but there were still dark circles under his eyes. Was he in a lot of pain or was he losing sleep worried about the future?
Jonah’s gaze settled on me, startling me from my reverie. “What do you think?”
My cheeks heated. I hoped he hadn’t realized I’d been staring at him. I took it as a good sign he’d asked for my opinion. Working together wouldn’t be too bad if he treated me as an equal. “Maybe we could do both. We can still have the festival but sell tickets to meet the players or spend more time with them. We could use that as a fundraiser for the scholarship and equipment fund.”
“Spend time with a player, kind of like that blind date Dylan won to meet me?” Reid asked.
The idea of people bidding on a date with Jonah didn’t sit well. Any time there was a meet and greet, Jonah was the most sought-after player because of his play on the field as well as his personality. “Kind of. It wouldn’t be a date though. Fans could get an autograph and ask any questions they have of the player.”
Jonah nodded in approval. “I like it.”
“I figured you would,” Reid said wryly.
Jonah was warm and welcoming, always taking the time to sign an autograph. Whereas Reid had shied away from meet and greets over the years due to his speech impediment.
“It’s part of the job.” There was an edge to Jonah’s tone.
“Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to do it now. They’ll be asking about your injury, your physical therapy.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll let Chase and the other guys offer up their time.” Jonah’s jaw tightened.
I needed to change the subject from his injury and his current limitations. I wanted Jonah to feel good, maybe even excited about something.
“What do you think about a mentorship program?” It was something I’d been mulling over ever since Reid brought up his plans. I’d been waiting for the right time to suggest it.
They both looked at me expectantly.
My heart rate picked up with their attention on me. I wasn’t helping their vision come true, I was pitching my own. I cleared my throat, pushing out any doubt. “It has nothing to do with the grand opening, of course. But we could pair players with kids, kind of like a big brother thing, but you’d offer advice on their play, form, and training.”
My nerves made my words rushed. I held my breath, hoping they’d at least consider the idea. I knew a lot about football from my grandfather but also watching the guys the last few years.
Their opinion mattered. I’d gotten this job because I was good at organizing Reid’s life, but this was a way to prove that I had other things to contribute.
Finally, Jonah said, “I like it.” Then he looked at Reid. “What do you think?”
“I like it too. You’d be perfect to head it up. You’d only be dealing with the kids, not the parents, so you shouldn’t get too many difficult questions about your injuries.”
“I can handle kids.” Jonah’s tone was gruff.
“I agree. This is great. You two can work on that.” Reid’s phone buzzed. “I have to take this.”
I was happy they’d both loved my idea even if I couldn’t believe I’d offered up another project I’d need to work on with Jonah.
Reid walked out, leaving us alone. The clock ticked in the background.
I wanted to address what Jonah said at the bar. “I know you think I don’t deserve this job or this opportunity, but I’m going to prove you wrong.”
“Did I say that?” Jonah asked, his expression genuinely confused.
“At the bar after Reid offered me the job,” I said the words slowly, waiting for any recognition he remembered. If he’d had too much to drink, did he even remember the kiss?
“Do you remember anything from that night?”
His gaze dropped to my lips. “I remember some things.”
I shifted in the chair, my skin heating.
“I don’t remember everything we talked about.” He stood, coming over to my side of the table.
I stood to even the playing field, even in heels, he still towered over me. I channeled the same take-charge attitude I’d used with Reid over the years.
“Reid trusts you.” The way Jonah said it made me think he didn’t. “But you’re right, I don’t think you’re qualified for the job.”
I couldn’t disagree with him. I was a college graduate with no business or management experience. “I’m going to prove you wrong.”
He leaned closer, his eyes darkening.
I sucked in a breath. Was he going to kiss me again?
“I look forward to it.” He turned and walked away.
I stood rooted to the spot.
When he got to the door, he paused, turning back to me. “Please don’t mention what happened at the bar to Reid.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Are you embarrassed, or is this about that ridiculous promise to stay away from me?”
“It doesn’t matter why. It’s not going to happen again.” He slapped his hand on the doorframe before he walked away.
He was cocky, so sure of himself and his ability to resist me. I wanted to knock him down a peg, show him I wasn’t one of those women who hung around the locker room waiting to score a player. Nothing that happened Saturday night was fake even if he was drinking and didn’t remember everything. I saw the desire in his eyes this morning. It was a bad idea to get involved with him but getting under his skin wasn’t against the rules.
Chapter Four
JONAH
I should have asked her nicely not to say anything to Reid about our kiss, then stuck around until she agreed. Instead, I ordered her around like a cocky asshole, the type of player she probably thought I was. Then I walked out without getting any assurance she’d keep it a secret.
That flash in her eyes when she told me she was going to prove me wrong set every nerve ending in my body on edge. Blood hummed faster in my veins. I wanted more than one kiss I could barely remember. I wanted to know what it would be like to be with her.
I couldn’t deny I was attracted to her. It was too late to place her back in the category of Reid’s personal assistant or quasi sister.
What had changed Saturday night? Was it the alcohol that lowered the barriers between us? If so, what was her excuse? I don’t remember her drinki
ng that much.
Was she as attracted to me as I was to her? Today she seemed irritated by my presence. It was almost as if she saw me as a threat.
None of it should matter. Reid warned us away from her because she was too good for us. I certainly wasn’t good enough for her. I might not have football to fall back on anymore. I had almost nothing going for me unless you counted the money I’d made, which she probably could care less about. She’d been around the team for years, and I never saw her flirt with any of the guys.
I headed to Reid’s office. He was pacing the office talking on the phone. When he saw me, he held up his finger, indicating I should wait for him.
“Okay. Thanks, man.” He hung up. “Sorry, that was Cade giving me the rundown on what needs to be completed.”
“Not a problem. It gave me a chance to talk to Callie.”
“You talked to her about what you’ll be working on together?”
“Yeah.” I choked the word out because we hadn’t talked about Rebel Sports. I didn’t accomplish anything when Reid walked out of the room except making myself look like more of an idiot than I had on Saturday night.
He tilted his head, considering me. “You think this is a good idea?”
“Opening Rebel Sports? Of course. I wouldn’t have put my money behind something that wasn’t.”
“Not that. Callie.”
“Callie? What are you getting at?” Did he not want me working with her because he knew I was attracted to her? Was the chemistry between us that obvious?
“She gets along with everyone. Yet she doesn’t seem to like you.”
“I questioned whether she’s the right person for the job.”
Reid steepled his fingers. “The mentor program was a great idea. She’s organized and hardworking. She might not have any experience, but she has a lot of potential.”
“It was.” I wanted to ask more questions. Why did Reid seem so protective of her? Why was he so close to her grandfather? Where were her parents? I vaguely remembered some talk when she first started working for him, but I couldn’t remember any details. I couldn’t ask without sounding more interested in her than I should have been.
