Page 17 of Power Play Daddies
It’s almost like he’s hearing me, even if he’s not entirely convinced. “Look, Daisy, these guys… they don’t like attention. The players want to keep their lives private. It’s a tight-knit team, and the last thing they need is someone poking around with a camera.”
I understand where he’s coming from. I’ve been around professional sports players enough to know that, yeah, they value their privacy. But this could be the breakthrough I need.
“I get that. I do. But I’m not going to push them into anything they’re not comfortable with. I’ll only publish what they agree to. If they want to keep things under wraps, that’s fine. But, Ace… if I don’t get this opportunity, I don’t know how long we can keep the paper afloat.”
He shifts in his chair, clearly thinking it over. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, and I swear I can feel the weight of his silence in the room. Finally, he speaks.
“Okay. Fine. You’ve got your shot. But you stick to the professional line. Don’t make this personal. Don’t try to turn it into some… drama piece.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Of course. It’s business. Just business.”
He nods, but I can see the skepticism in his eyes. “You can start tomorrow. You get to bring one cameraman with you. And they need to be cleared by me. You can’t record any of the guys without telling them first. Got it?”
I nod eagerly. “Got it. Thanks, Uncle Ace. I won’t let you down.”
He doesn’t smile, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. “I’ll be watching. And you better keep it professional. No games. The Icemen never give exclusives, and that’s for good reason. Don’t make my boys look bad. Don’t makemelook bad.”
“Of course.” I stand, but not before I glance at him. “Thanks. Really. I appreciate it.”
He waves me off like it’s nothing. “No problem. Just get it right.”
I can feel the tension in the air as I leave his office. The whole damn meeting was a mix of awkwardness and relief. He’s giving me the chance I need, but there’s still something off between us. Something unresolved. And maybe it’ll always be there. Who knows?
Still, I’m smiling as I walk out of the building, my heart racing for all the right reasons. Yeah, I’m nervous. But I’m also excited. This could be my big break, and I’m not going to let Beau—or anyone else—ruin it for me.
Tomorrow’s going to be big.
I’m in my tiny kitchen, frying steaks while Logan lounges on the couch with a glass of wine.
Slim is curled up in his lap, purring like a motorboat, and Logan’s just scratching behind his ears, all relaxed.
I’ve never been more grateful for his presence in my life.
I’ve been dying to tell him about the meeting, so I called him right after I called my boss. He didn’t hesitate to drop everything and come over. That’s what I love about him. He’s always got my back, no questions asked.
Logan takes another sip of wine, tilts his head, and looks at me with that mischievous grin. “Okay, seriously, tell me again what happened. You were all over the place on that voicemail. I barely got any useful info.”
I roll my eyes, flipping the steak in the pan with a sizzle. “I wasn’t all over the place, I was just… figuring it out. You know? Anyway, Beau thinks our one-night stand was for a scoop. Like, seriously? He thinks I slept with him to get a story.”
Logan chokes on his wine and coughs, half-laughing. “What? No way. That’s… fucking ridiculous.”
“Right?” I say, setting the steak on the plate. “I mean, I didn’t even know if I was going to be working on the team piece until—well, until today. It’s just… annoying that he jumped to that conclusion. Like, why would I make it about a story? I barely even knew him.”
Logan sets his glass down, pushing Slim off his lap, which doesn’t go over well. The cat’s a little offended, but he only growls lightly. Logan stands up and starts poking through my fridge, pulling out random veggies.
“You gotta understand his position, Daisy,” he says, retrieving a cucumber and an eggplant. “I mean, Beau’s probably thinking you were playing him. You’re a journalist, right? He’s got a reputation to keep up. But still, the guy’s a fucking asshole.”
I laugh. “Yeah, but come on. Who the hell thinks that after one night? I’m not some?—”
He cuts me off. “Oh, wait. Let’s pause here. How tall is he? Six foot three? Big guy, right?”
I blink at him, not sure where this is going. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. Why?”
Logan’s face lights up with a wicked grin, and he holds up the cucumber like it’s a weapon. “So, how big was his cock?”
I snort. “Are you seriously asking me that?”
Logan shrugs, not even a little sorry. “You brought it up. I’m just asking for the details.” He holds the cucumber up to his face, like it’s a standard unit of measurement. “I mean, we need to know. Was it worth all this drama?”
