Page 76 of The Wedding Deal
“My week is all filled up.”Be strong, be strong, be strong.“But let me just save us both the trouble of an uncomfortable meal that’d only waste our time. I’m a rules girl. I went against my instincts and broke a few, and I paid for it. It’s not the first time I’ve lost someone I cared about to football, but this time, I’m going to learn my lesson and cut my losses. My heart can only get stomped on so many times before it stops working. From now on, all our interactions will be professional and business driven, and I’d prefer most of them be over email.”
He blinked at her, hurt swimming in those blue eyes, and she did her best to tamp down her rising empathy. She had learned her lesson. Had lost enough to guys who gambled on football. She was sick of being the girl who got used up and tossed away. Maybe it was good that she’d found out sooner rather than later, althoughgoodwas the last thing she felt.
“Your wish is…” He swallowed, hard. “Charlotte, it’s not what I want.”
A deep bruising ache radiated through her chest, and tears stung her eyes. She clenched her jaw against the sob in her throat.
“But if it’s what you want…”
She managed to give one sharp nod, words no longer an option. And still her heart rebelled at the lie, throwing itself against the walls of her chest like it meant to break out of its cage and offer itself up to him.
Silly, stupid heart.
“Okay.” He lifted his hand as if to touch her cheek, and when she flinched, he limply lowered it to his side. “Okay,” he repeated.
From now on, her brain was in charge. No more foolishly believing a guy would change, or that she meant more to someone than she did. As she walked away, even it turned redcoat on her, though, whispering that she’d never care for anyone else as strongly as she cared for Lance Quaid.
…
It wasn’t fucking okay.
All day he’d pretended he was fine with Charlotte’s decree. For one, he hadn’t known their relationship had officially ended, and he hardly agreed about respecting the other person’s decision, regardless of the fact he’d signed the stupid contract.
Guess that was what he got for signing something without thoroughly reading it.
He paused in the open doorway of her office, bracing himself for the onslaught of misery that would flood him when he peered into her pretty face and saw a mixture of hurt and disdain. It’d nearly killed him this morning. All day it’d played on a loop, merging with the memory of the night when everything went to shit.
Now you’re the one who needs to find his balls. You’re running a billion-dollar organization, and you need an employee you pay to consult to do her job.
He stepped inside, and when she continued to type away at her computer, lost in whatever was on the screen, he cleared his throat.
She jumped, and he bit back a smile. Remorse for how he treated her immediately followed, so strong it threatened to take him to his knees.
If he thought his dropping to them and begging her to take him back would do any good, he’d throw his pride out the window and attempt it. “After talking to Coach Bryant, we’re looking more seriously at the GM position. Your top pick wasn’t interested— He got an offer from a championship team who’s willing to pay him a lot more than we can.”
“Too bad,” she said.
“What about Brett Williams? I know he wasn’t on our original list because—”
“He had a job elsewhere up until two days ago. I like him.” She picked up the pen on her desk and clicked the end a couple of times. “He’s done good things, and his draft picks have always been solid. Most of them go on to be MVPs and Super Bowl champs, but thanks to the fact that the owner refuses to pay players what they’re worth, they’re always on different teams when they win those accolades.”
As he’d flown back from North Carolina, he’d worried Charlotte would never talk to him, but this was almost worse. Having her talk to him like a robot. Like they hadn’t shared something. Not just something, but the realest, most amazing connection he’d ever had.
“So you think the problem was the ownership, not Williams?” he asked.
She sat back in her chair and adjusted her glasses, but it obviously wasn’t so she could see him more clearly because she was staring more in his general direction than at him. “That and deciding to keep coaching in the family. It’s hard to overcome a bad head coach. I guess that’s why it’s better to have a cold-hearted owner. The Mama Bear McCaskey type who’ll fire her own son if that’s what it takes.”
Lance wasn’t sure if that was a remark on his cold heart or simply a fact. It’d happened often enough, trying to keep a team and several of its positions in the family, only to realize some members weren’t competent or equipped to handle the pressure, followed by making a hard decision that would benefit the organization.
“Williams has some family stuff going on, so instead of flying him here, I’m going to go to California to meet with him.” Now he was wishing he’d grabbed a pen to spin through his fingers. Or something else to fiddle with it. Since he didn’t want to add stealing a pen to his list of crimes against Charlotte, he jammed both hands in his pockets. “I’d like you to go with me. Coach Bryant will be going as well.”
He noticed the hurt that flickered across her features. The rise and fall of her chest. The way her eyebrows pitched up in the middle as she fought to keep her emotions off her face. “I’m sure you guys will make the right decision. I have a lot of work to catch up on here.”
A helpless, hopeless sensation gripped his body. He’d actually lost her. “If you need me, I’ll be on my cell. Feel free to call it day or night.”
She turned back to her computer, and he knew she wouldn’t call. He opened his mouth—to say what, he wasn’t sure, but his phone rang for the billionth time, give or take a few.
Over the past couple of days, his life had gone from hectic to whatever was beyond that. Turbulent? Chaotic? Complete pandemonium?
