Page 17 of Gossip Game

Linc’s eyes went round against his caramel skin. “Ah, come on, Charlie. You’ve known me long enough to recognize my sarcasm when you hear it. I don’t like these stupid rumors any more than you do.” He put his hands on his hips. “But you’re a successful businesswoman now. Everyone is going to come for you. You’ve got to roll with it and figure out a way to make it work for you and your brand.”

Great.

Now even Linc was pointing out her flaws as a CEO. And the worst part? He was right. She wasn’t cut out to run a company.

She snatched up her bag and draped the strap over her shoulder. “I’m going to catch a barre class.”

“Aren’t you coming with us to the back-to-school picnic?” Grayson asked.

“Oh, no.” Charlotte shook her head. “I think it would be best if I stayed away from Shepard Academy for a while.”

“Charlie, wait.” Bridgett handed her son off to Jay. “I have an idea about the CEO search I want to float by you.”

That was the last thing Charlotte wanted to think about right now. She waved her sister-in-law off. “My brain is a little fried right now. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

She was acting rude. Especially after everything Bridgett did to help with Truly You. Charlotte hadn’t evolved as much as she’d thought, obviously. She hurried out of the conference room before she did or said something else that might reveal how childish and insecure she still was.

SIX

The happy hour crowd at Devlin’s had thinned out by eight-thirty that evening. Noah sat on his usual stool at the dark end of the bar, closest to the kitchen. The regulars were used to seeing him parked there on Friday nights before a home game. After all, he’d been sitting in that same spot every football season for the past seven years.

It was tradition for the starting quarterback to take the offensive line out for a pricey steak dinner before the season opener. For years, that dinner happened at the bougie steakhouse owned by the Blaze MVP quarterback, Shane Devlin. It wasn’t customary to include the backup QB, but Devlin wasn’t one for rules and protocol. He’d always insisted Noah join them.

“To soak up whatever knowledge you can,” he’d explained.

Those preseason dinners evolved into regular Friday night dinners between the two quarterbacks during the season, the veteran baller quizzing Noah on every play in the playbook just in case he’d have to come into the game for Devlin.

“I don’t want you blowing a lead if I get sidelined,” he’d grumble.

When Devlin finally hung up his cleats, everyone on the offense just assumed they’d continue going to his restaurant for the annual dinner. So did the former QB. He lorded over the meal like the elder statesman he was, before drilling Noah one-on-one on the game plan after everyone left.

Noah’s father believed his son would have an easier time with fans and the media had Devlin left Baltimore and not cast such a long shadow over his replacement’s career. There were days when Noah agreed. Other days, however, he was grateful for the wizened quarterback’s guidance.

Today was not one of those days.

“After months of trying to keep your image afloat, you have to go and do something that gets you to the top of every damn search engine in the world. Why would you be such a dumbass as to get caught kissing the owner’s sister?” Devlin hung a dishtowel onto his shoulder before leveling a “give-it-to-me” stare at Noah.

The questions had been flying all week. From his teammates, the media, even his family. For the most part, Noah had no trouble redirecting everyone back to the topic of football and the upcoming game. If he were being honest, he was glad to have everyone’s attention on something other than last year’s disastrous season. Come Sunday, he would prove himself on the field and everyone would forget about the past. And his infamous kiss with Charlotte Davis would be dubbed old news.

“Unless you have some game strategy to impart, I’m out of here.” Noah guzzled what remained of his beer.

Devlin shook his head. “Damn, man, you are like a crypt about your private life.” He sighed. “My only game pointers are to test their right corner early on. I’ve been watching his preseason film, and Bailey doesn’t look fully recovered from his knee injury last year.”

Noah thought the same thing. “Of course, Bailey could be playing all of us.”

“That’s why you better be sure to test him with a ball he can’t pick.” Devlin turned toward a commotion at the other end of the bar. “Speak of the devil.”

“Bailey’s here?”

Devlin was suddenly wearing a shit-eating grin. “Even better. Your girlfriend is here.”

The maître D was leading Charlotte right to Noah, giving him no chance to escape.

“I told you Mr. Devlin was still here,” the maître D said. “And someone else you will be glad to see.” The guy winked at Charlotte.

Noah wouldn’t exactly describe her expression as glad. Irked would be more like it. He was pretty sure she hadn’t expected to find him there. She recovered well, though, a dazzling smile forming on her lips.

“Shane,” she gushed. “It’s so good to see you. And I couldn’t leave town without enjoying one of your fabulous Niçoise salads.”

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