Page 101 of The Hat Trick

We are tied now, and by the time we go back out for the final period every single player on the ice is out for blood.

There’s something about knowing Chandler is out in the stands, her pussy dripping with me as she watches that has something primal roaring inside of me, and I swear I play the best game of my life. I get one goal, and one assist while we all work to block the other team from getting another goal and we walk away with a win.

Which means I have a promise to keep with the woman who has unknowingly taken over not only my life, but two of my teammates lives as well.

32

Brent followed through on his promise after they won their game, and it helped ease the little bit of hesitancy I was feeling when it came to him. I could tell he wasn’t talking to me as much and I wasn’t going to push it. But that night, it was just the two of us and he took his time with my body.

That was a couple weeks ago now and I’ve been so busy with work. Plus, they’ve had a ton of games before they have their weeklong break at the beginning of February. We haven’t had much time to see each other, mostly it’s been texting and FaceTime with whoever calls me first. To be honest, it’s usually Vince. But Brent and Matt still talk to me quite a bit as well.

I finally presented my project to my boss, and it feels like a weight has been lifted, but at the same time I’m still waiting to hear his feedback and when he wants me to present it to the company. I went over everything with Audrey before turning it in, and even though she didn’t exactly know what she was supposed to be judging me on she said it looked great and gave me a standing ovation. So, I’ll take it.

This morning, I’m planning on going to my boss and asking for an update because I’ve decided to take what I want and not wait anymore. That advice may have come from Matt, which surprised me, but I have to admit that it was good advice. I mean, look at the success I’ve had with taking what I wanted recently.

As I’m walking to my desk, I glance into one of the conference rooms where I see George is in there. I’m about to keep walking, but something keeps me in place and when I see what pops up on the screen behind him, I freeze.

It’s an ad that looks really familiar. Because it’s the adIdesigned.

I stand at the door, looking in through the small window with my jaw dropped. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I have no doubt he’s giving my exact presentation I sent to him. And I know for a damn fact he’s not giving me credit, because if he was then I would be in there. Givingmypresentation.

I’m fuming. Part of me wants to barge in there and take what’s mine in front of all those people. Then I could makehimlook like the fucking idiot he is. But something stops me, it’s the doubt that anyone would see it that way.

Who’s to say he wouldn’t just tell them I’m lying and that I’m the crazy one. Why wouldn’t they believe him instead of me?

So instead of charging in there like I want to, I stay standing right outside the door, waiting until the meeting ends. It only adds to my anger the longer I stand here, and I know I’m going to explode as soon as I get the chance.

Yet, when the door opens, and everyone starts filing out, I find myself struggling to think of anything I want to say. Not that I was going to let loose all my angry thoughts on the people who were just subjected to George’s horrendous attempt at giving my presentation.

Said traitor is the last to leave the room, and the look he gives me is both shock and smug.

“Ms. Hart, I didn’t expect to see you there,” he says, adjusting the collar on his too tight shirt that looks like it’s hanging onto dear life around his beer gut.

“I guess we both have had a shock this morning,” I retort, folding my arms across my chest.

“Maybe we should discuss this in my office,” he looks around hastily. Probably wanting to make sure no one can hear us.

“What’s there to discuss?” I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, you mean stealing something I made and taking credit for it?”

“We are going to my office.”

“No, I’m not listening to you anymore. In fact, I’m done here. I fucking quit.”

With that I turn on my heel and walk away. He doesn’t say anything, which doesn’t surprise me. There’s no reason for him to try and stop me, he got a great ad from me, and no doubt the company was pleased with it from what I could tell. Now, he won’t have to deal with any excess baggage I could bring by making a big deal about this.

I head straight to my desk, tossing the small number of personal items I have here into my bag and try to leave as quickly as possible. Mostly because I don’t want the panic to take over, and to go back to him with my tail between my legs admitting I made a mistake. Because the thing is, I know I didn’t.

I’ve been miserable here, it’s not what I want to do, and this was the final straw. I’m about to take Audrey’s advice and do what I want to do. I just hope I won’t regret it.

* * *

I’m regretting it.

The anxiety about bills and money in general has kicked in and I’m freaking out.

I want to call Audrey. Or any of the guys and have someone talk me down from this, but I also don’t want anyone to influence how I’m feeling. So, I drive home and as soon as I’m inside the threshold of my home I end up yelling out for my roommate.

“I quit my job!”

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