Page 29 of Not Just a Trick Play

A woman in a sleek navy silk business suit approaches us, sizing me up.

“Jessica, this is Amelia, who I was telling you about. Amelia, Jessica Murray, queen of Titans.” He ends with a flourish.

The lady shakes her head at his introduction but holds out her hand regally. To kiss? To shake?

“Amelia. Jake said you’d helped him out of a bind.”

Oh, so that’s why he’s able to get me a job here. This favor isn’t exactly out of the goodness of his heart, and I’m not their first choice, but they’ll make do. It’s fine. Being the unintended consequence is nothing new.

I take her outstretched fingers. My words stick in my throat as the nerves set in again.

“Thank you for having me over,” I croak.

“How could we refuse?”

How indeed?

She nods then turns to Jake. “Andyou”—she fixes him with a pointed stare—“need to get to practice.”

He holds his hands up in surrender as he backs away. “Going, going.” But then he stops. His eyes collide with mine.

“Amelia.”

I blink.

“You got this, okay?”

I purse my lips then tip my head. He stares at me for a few more seconds before leaving. I take a deep breath and hope he’s right.

I turn back to Jessica, avidly watching our exchange.

Without preamble, she begins. “As you know, this was a favor to Jake. Hiring anyone outside of our standardprocedure is highly irregular; however, we are prepared to make an exception, given the…inauspicious beginning of your relationship with Jake Cunningham, and offer you a temporary position for the remainder of the regular season. Provided you can do the work.”

And keep your mouth shut.I hear her unspoken command, loud and clear.

“All I need is a chance,” I promise. Beggars can’t be choosers, and I’ll take anything at this point.

“So, Ms. Stevens, how much do you know about football?”

I straighten, summoning every ounce of my British backbone. I may not have planned for this, but I’m determined not to squander the opportunity.

“Plenty.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

JAKE

After the handcuffing episode,I have no business being distracted, but my attention is shot to hell.

Coach obviously agrees, singling me out for extra shuttle runs, ladder drills, and tire flips. Even the guys wince as they watch me suffer. And yet, my eyes keep wandering to the windows of the corporate offices.

How is Amelia’s interview going? What department will she end up in? There’s no reason Jessica isn’t hiring Amelia after hearing she was the woman who’d come to my rescue. Not that I was lying when I told Amelia she’d be impressive no matter what. I have no doubt she’ll do whatever’s necessary to do well in whatever position she gets. This gig happens to be perfect. It sorts out her cash worries until the end of the season and keeps her close enough for Jessica to keep an eye on. Plus, any job in football beats working at an inn and dishwashing duty—though I might be biased.

Now that that’s all squared away and sorted, and I mentally file her away to Exile Island. Yet, less than thirty minutes later, as I’m taking a water break, who do I see? Amelia walking down the stands with Sara, pausing a few levels above me.

I follow her legs up to the hem of the skirt that clings in all the right places. Her hair is up in some sexy do that begs for a little ruffling. She cleans up nicely, very nicely. It’s a stark contrast to her chaotic post-plane ride and dog-pee disaster. Memories of her soft skin in my grip last night flood back. Amelia and I won’t bump into each other after this. The Titans organization is a labyrinth, and chances are she’ll end up in some admin role and fade into the corporate abyss.

My mind wanders to that photo with her and that scrawny Brit. He’s more her type. Though that idiot clearly didn’t appreciate her, because there’s no way he would let her go otherwise.

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