Page 46 of Not Just a Trick Play

I can certainly attest to that.

“Just as well. We’re not supposed to get involved with the players,” Rani says as if she’s tapped into my mind.

I choke on air. “We’re not?”

“Not in the handbook, but kinda understood. Marge’s had too many HR nightmares with them hooking up with support staff.So, no players.”

A bit too late for that. Not that Jake and I are a thing at all. It was casual sex with someone who can charm the women out of their knickers. Sadly, Jake’s not getting anywhere near my knickers again. “No players,” I echo. Of course, the team comes first.

I turn my focus back to the green expanse. Even though I have no idea what the men are up to, it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by all that glorious, chiseled, sweat-slick skin glistening in the afternoon sun. Maybe this job has its perks after all. “That’s quite the sight…”

Rani smirks knowingly. “That, my dear, is football.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

JAKE

Practice wrapsup earlier than usual. The entire team’s been summoned for a last-minute marketing and PR meeting. The subject line on the invitation? A vague “Team Sponsorship.” Then again, I’m not as interested in the purpose of the assembly as I am in the attendees—I have my own agenda.

I rush through my shower and head to the designated conference room. I haven’t spoken to Amelia since the weekend, yet I can’t seem to get her out of my mind. Though with her ringing review of my bedroom skills and then running off when I saw her spying on me earlier… A lesser man would have developed a complex. Good thing I’m not a lesser man.

And if she needs to reassess? I grin. I’m all for giving her another demonstration, if only to prove that I’m always up for some constructive criticism and spent all day after yesterday’s game figuring out a plan to up my star rating, and step one? Bring incentive.

When I enter the meeting room, Amelia and her colleagues are already up front, prepping. I wave and receive a chorus of “heys” and “hellos” from the team. Amelia, however, offers me the most perfunctory of nods before bending intently over hertablet again. I decide against approaching; ours needs to be a one-on-one assignation.

Chairs arranged in neat rows give the space the feel of a lecture hall. Clearly, we’re in for a sermon. I choose a discreet spot at the back and settle in. My gaze returns to Amelia. I watch her work, not minding the way she ignores me, amused because she doesn’t do a good job of it. Her whole placid, I-don’t-even-know-you’re-here façade tells me she’s very well aware of my presence.

Today, a knee-length navy skirt with a slit offers teasing glimpses of her thighs. Her legs shimmer. Stockings? Panty hose? Or maybe sexy hold ups? My gaze takes a lazy journey down to the modest heels she’s sporting. They may not be the type that scream “Come fuck me,” but damn if I’m not already picturing them digging into my back.

Right as my fantasy is gaining steam, Milo and Connor stroll in and drop into the seats by me.

Jessica enters, and the room falls silent. She eyes us, one by one, then nods to Rani. The lights dim, and the large screen behind her flashes to life, displaying “Nurture NYC” in big bold letters. My heart thumps harder, and I sit up straight. Logan and Hunter glance over, their expressions full of concern. They know how much the program means to me.

“Thank you all for gathering at such short notice,” Jessica begins, her voice all business. “As you are aware, the Titans have been a longtime supporter of Nurture NYC, most notably through the annual fundraising gala. However, recent events have prompted the foundation to re-evaluate our association.”

I’m about to jump to my feet, mouth open to protest, but she spears me in place, and my teeth clack back together. “—Despite these issues, our commitment to the cause remains unwavering. We don’t believe the charity should be adversely impacted because of our current predicament. As such, we’re piloting anew initiative this season to increase our support and rebuild our relationship with them.

The presentation slide changes to reveal “Skybox Supports” beside the Nurture NYC logo, sending a wave of excitement through me.

“This is a co-branded partnership that allows one sponsor per home game to align their organization with the Titans and Nurture NYC. It’s an opportunity to raise their profile, rehabilitate our own, and crucially, ensure ongoing financial support for the charity. Sponsors will receive exclusive branding rights and share a dedicated suite with foundation representatives and beneficiaries. Additionally, at the end of each game, two of our players will stop by the box for meet-and-greets. Note that while participation is voluntary, we encourage each of you to consider it. If we manage to match or exceed the proceeds from last year’s event, we’re hopeful Nurture NYC’s trustees will allow us the honor of hosting the gala in December.”

Amazed. That’s the word. Jessica’s strategy is brilliant, and if all goes according to plan, we could double the funds raised for Nurture NYC when combined with contributions from the end-of-season gala. And there’sgoingto be an end-of-season gala. All I have to do is “open sesame” some serious sponsorship dollars. Piece of cake.

“I expect everyone involved to conduct themselves in a manner befitting the charity,” she stresses, her warning gaze locking on mine. No sweat, I can dig out that halo and shine it up. I’ll be the poster child of good behavior.

Jessica continues, “This campaign commences with Sunday’s game, and we’re fortunate to have our parent company, Winters Inc., along with F&S International, as our inaugural sponsors. Margie Cuenca will be overseeing the project, and members of her team will engage and entertainguests until the players arrive. Amelia Stevens and Rani Metha are organizing the volunteer efforts and will serve as your point people throughout the program.”

Just like that, my plans for Amelia go ka-boom. There’s no way I’m messing with her or doing anything to jeopardize this program. My shoulders droop as I resign myself to a season of unfaltering, albeit celibate, commitment.

Resolute, I’m up and heading straight for the front. “I’m in.”

Amelia examines her tablet without glancing up. “What dates would you like to register for?”

“All of them.”

Her head snaps up. “All of them?” Her brows draw together in consternation as I nod. “Isn’t that rather…excessive?”

“Hey, I’m all for a weekly pimping, if that’s what it takes to get the gala back on.” I counter, casting a casual glance at Jessica. Boss lady is keenly observing our exchange. “That shouldn’t be an issue, right?”

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