Page 191 of Play Along

“Done.”

Well, shit. That was easy.

“One more thing.”

Reese nods for me to continue, trying to hold back her laughter.

“My previous position will need to be filled. I want to be the one to hire my replacement.”

“Well, that is part of your new job description.”

Holy hell, it is.

“So, is that a yes?” she presses.

My smile blooms so wide, my cheeks pinch. “That’s a yes.”

“Perfect. I’ll get your new contract drawn up. And Kennedy, I know my grandfather set some archaic guidelines, saying that if you and Isaiah ended your relationship, one of you would have to go.” She shakes her head. “I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to be with him, you’re not going to lose your job over it.”

“I appreciate that, Reese, but that’s not going to be a problem.”

Her lips purse in a knowing grin, like maybe she’s known certain details for a while now. “Okay. Good to know, but um...” Her eyes trail down my clothes. “Any chance you could work the game tonight? I’m short a doctor.”

“I think I can do that.”

Monty stands from his chair. “I got to get ready for tonight, but Kennedy, we’re all glad you’re staying.”

“Thank you, Monty... for everything.”

“Don’t thank me. That was all you. But I need a win tonight, so you should probably go tell your husband that you’re sticking around.”

Chapter 38

Kennedy

I’m in a complete daze leaving Reese’s office. My vision is fuzzy and zoned out, focused on nothing in particular when I close the door behind me.

What the hell just happened?

How did that all happen?

Well, I guess I know the answer to that, so the real question I’m asking myself is how did I get so lucky?

“Kenny.”

The voice snaps me back to reality, my focus zeroing in on a frantic Isaiah as he jogs towards me.

Speaking of lucky.

How lucky am I that I get to call him mine?

Isaiah is wearing his baseball pants—only his baseball pants. His perfectly disheveled hair looking like his hands haven’t stopped running through it all morning.

He’s got that manila envelope, holding it up when he stops in front of me, heaving chest and desperate, pleading eyes. “Look,” he begins. “I know I gave you a choice. I wanted you to make your own decision, but I’ve got to be honest here, I don’t totally love this one.”

My face softens into a smile.

How was there ever a day that I wasn’t completely and utterly gone for this guy?

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