Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“It’s fine, Jenna.” I stand from my chair, smoothing my skirt. “Drake and I were just discussing… um… well…”
Drake’s cool as a cucumber. “She had something in her eye, and I was removing it.”
Such an obvious lie, but Jenna pounces. “Right. Of course. That makes sense. I’m, um… I’ll come back when you’re done, um, getting dirt out of your eye.”
“No need,” Drake says. “I’m leaving.”
Jenna bows her head and steps back, an obvious move to give us a bit of privacy.
Drake leans in and murmurs so only I can hear. “I’ll see you on the road trip.”
“Probably not,” I reply softly. “I’m headed out of the country tomorrow, and I’ll be needed back here upon my return. Not sure it’s feasible for me to go on this road trip.”
Displeasure consumes his face. “That’s a shame.”
I don’t reply because it would only be to echo that sentiment. Instead, I say loud enough for Jenna to hear, “Thank you for coming by to discuss that press release.”
“No problem,” he says and walks away, as if we weren’t just having an incendiary conversation about dirty things.
When the door closes behind him, Jenna cocks an eyebrow. “Press release?”
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” I say, taking my seat and pulling my chair in closer to my desk.
“It looked to me like you and Drake were about to kiss,” she says, moving to the guest chair and plopping down.
Scoffing, I pin my eyes on my laptop. “That’s ridiculous, right? I mean, why would a team owner kiss a player?”
“It’s Drake McGinn,” Jenna says, fanning herself dramatically. “The question is why wouldn’t a team owner want to.”
Sighing, I sit back and close my eyes. I rub at my temples to stave off the beginning of a tension headache.
“It’s okay, Brienne,” Jenna says, and I open my eyes to find her smiling at me. “You’re allowed to have a social life, you know. A sexual social life. A sex life. I mean… well, you know what I mean.”
“We’re not…” I stop, give a slight shake of my head. I can’t lie to her, and I don’t want to. “It’s inappropriate. We can’t.”
“You already have?”
“Yes, but we can’t keep on—”
“Why not?” she asks curiously. “You’re both consenting adults.”
“I’m his boss.”
“Technically, you’re not. Callum is. You just own the team.”
I appreciate her wanting me to have this. I really do. But she doesn’t see the big picture. “If the press got hold of this, they would make it sordid. All the old stuff with Drake would be dredged up, and it would look bad, since he was accused of gambling and throwing games. Sleeping with the owner looks like he’s gaming the system again. And I can’t let anything damage what could be a really amazing season for these men. I don’t want to take that away from them, and Drake’s already been through enough. I don’t want him under that firestorm again.”
“Fine,” she says, leaning forward. “There could be negative repercussions. So keep it secret, then. If you’re enjoying yourself and it’s just a fun time, don’t give it up.”
“Really?” I ask, eyebrows knitted as I ponder. “You don’t think that’s… trampy of me?”
Jenna rolls her eyes. “What’s happened to you? You’re the woman who told me you had a friends-with-benefits situation when I first came to work with you. This is no different. Except, if you don’t mind me saying, the benefits with Drake look like they’d be far superior to those Dr. Bessel provided. I’m just saying.”
I bust out laughing and can’t seem to stop. She’s not wrong. Clay doesn’t hold a candle to Drake.
No man ever has.
Shaking my head, I reach out my hand. “Let’s talk about something else. What’s that?”
Jenna hands over the folder. “It’s the press releases for this week. I assume there’s not really one about Drake.”
“No, there’s not really one about Drake,” I say with faux irritation. “Now, let’s concentrate on work.”
CHAPTER 19
Drake
As I enter the kitchen through the garage, I’m surprised to see Kiera at the table, a cup of tea before her. She’s bent over her electronic reader, but her head rises and she smiles. “Tough game.”
“It happens,” I say as I toss my duffel and suit jacket on the floor. I loosened my tie as soon as I got in my car to leave the arena. Pulling out a chair, I settle down adjacent to her. “I had an off night.”
We lost to the Minnesota Raiders, 4–2. I never quite know what causes me to be on or off. It could be something as simple as not getting enough sleep or maybe my nutrition needs tweaking.
It could be I’m preoccupied with other things, and while I do my best to be one hundred percent in game mode, sometimes things creep in.
Once when Crystal and I were together, Colby had a really high fever, and she had to take him to the emergency room on a game night. I played like shit. While I felt like I was concentrating on the game, I probably wasn’t giving it my all because of my worry about Colby.