Page 86 of The Play

“Like we’ve gotten through all the rest?” Darcy threw up her hands in frustration. “I feel like every time we clean up a mess, there’s only a second of quiet where we catch our breath and think, oh, this is the last of it, and then some other new crisis crops up, and you know what the craziest part is? It’s often worse than the last one!”

Grant couldn’t tell her that he hadn’t had these exact same thoughts. Because he had. At the same time, he’d had at least some inkling what he was getting into.

Darcy hadn’t had a clue—other than what he’d told her.

She’d never even watched a football game before he’d sat her down and said he was buying the Condors.

“Yeah, it’s been a rough go. But think of it this way, Darcy. Some of the things that caused major friction between us and Cheryl? They were things that were genuinely amazing. The kind of things that were possible only because I bought this team. Like Micah and Beck? That was a really, really good thing, in the end. I can’t even be mad about Rex, because his injury and what we found out about his gambling made it possible for me to bring Micah here. And he’s fit in, with or without Beck, like he belongs.”

Darcy sighed. “This is why you’re so good at this. You see the human element when I can’t.”

“That’s not true, you see it. You see it at InTech all the time. You’re the one who pioneered a lot of our most popular employee programs. I think this football thing is just throwing you. You’re not usually so close to the employee component.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just spend way less time ogling them in tight pants,” Darcy said lightly.

“True,” Grant said with a chuckle. “Okay, I’m gonna grab a quick shower, and then we can take off. Or do we need to take the first set of meetings here?”

“Here,” Darcy said. “And then we’ll have Richard take us to the Condors facility for the afternoon.”

“How long do I have to brace myself before we get Cheryl?” Grant asked, finishing his coffee.

“A few hours.” Darcy shot him a meaningful look as he rinsed out his mug and stuck it in the dishwasher. “Enough time to work on your poker face.”

“She made it a video meeting, then?”

“Oh, was I not clear? She is coming here. She flew in this morning.” Darcy looked mildly satisfied at his shock. Because yes, it was shock. Cheryl had never shown up in-person before.

“That’s why we’re going into the Condors today. We’ll meet her there. Go put your best suit on, the one you had tailored in London. The one that makes you look every inch the billionaire.”

“Ugh,” Grant said and headed towards the shower.

“Cheryl,” Grant said, shaking her hand briefly, keeping his face a smooth mask as he took a seat opposite her in the Condors’ biggest conference room. He wanted to bend down, get her to lean in closer, and then scream at her.

Nicole was monitoring the media response to the email releasing, and it seemed everyone wanted a piece of the action.

The last update he’d gotten from her was some media outlets were hinting that they’d managed to track down Dougie, but even then Grant wasn’t worried he’d talk, because Nicole had done her job and gotten to him first.

But still, despite the inevitable frustration that his personal business was splashed across every news and gossip site in the whole freaking world and he was face-to-face with Cheryl, currently wearing a smile he could only describe as smug, Grant was in a pretty damn good mood.

The reason for that wasn’t very hard to figure out.

The reason was probably outside, on the practice field, and if Grant got up and wandered over to the windows as Darcy and Cheryl made viciously polite small talk, he would probably see him out there. Dark hair shining in the sun. He might even get a glimpse of some of that big, glorious body he’d gotten so lucky as to enjoy last night.

Darcy cleared her throat and sent a pointed glance in his direction. “Grant?” she asked, clearly repeating herself.

Whoops.

“Yes, sorry,” Grant said, forcing his attention back to Cheryl.

Not who he wanted to be thinking about, that was for sure.

It was just like her, though, to create this mess, and then come here in person to chastise him about it.

Only years of dealing with hostile adversaries in boardrooms made it possible for him to offer her a bland smile.

Don’t let them see you sweat. Ever.

Definitely don’t let them see you bleed. Once there’s blood in the water . . .

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