Page 18 of Mad Rivals
“Okay,” he says on a chuckle as if he doesn’t believe me, but whatever. I don’t need him to believe me.
“Mobile for Bradley,” the barista calls, and two grande iced coffees sit on the counter. Madden walks over to pick them up, and he hands one to me.
“My treat,” he says.
“Thanks.” I narrow my eyes at him, not sure what his motivation is here. Knowing he’s got manipulation in his blood makes me nervous.
We find an open table near a window, and we sit across from each other with him facing the door.
“So you wanted to talk master planning?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says. “But obviously that was just a cover to get you here.”
“Huh?” I squeak.
He chuckles. “I need to confer with my team before we can really start talking master planning.”
“Yes, of course. So do I,” I say, though truthfully I have not the first clue what I’m doing, and I’m frankly shocked my dad sent me here this morning solo. He trusts me maybe more than he should, but he reminded me that I’m a bright businesswoman before I left the office.
“Where’s your old man?” he asks.
“Why do you care?”
“Just curious. He was with you last time but seemed to be letting you take the lead. Are you taking over the company?” He tips his coffee to his lips, and for fuck’s sake, I’ve never been jealous of a coffee lid until this moment, but my eyes study the way his lips take on the side of that cup and suck in some of the liquid. It’s downright pornographic.
“Eventually,” I say.
“Me, too,” he says, and his jaw clenches a little at that. “Do you want to take over VBC?”
I raise a brow. “I don’t know you well enough to get into these sorts of details.”
“Right. I’ll take that as a no, then.” He clears his throat and looks away, and I get the sense that he doesn’t really want his father’s company, either.
I don’t ask about it, though. This outing was his idea, not mine. He treated me to coffee, and it sort of feels like a date. But I won’t let it be one.
“Take it how you want. I don’t really care,” I say.
He looks surprised by my words. “Why are you angry with me?”
“I’m a diehard Bears fan,” I say. “I’ll never cheer for anyone else. Or for anyone that’s not on my team.” I smirk at him.
He clenches his jaw, and it works back and forth in a super sexy way for a few beats. Clearly he’s affected by the trade, and my words just pushed a button. I’m interested to hear more. I don’t push it, though. A friend might ask, and we’re not friends. If anything, we’re enemies.
Before he can respond to my clear jab that he’s no longer with the team, I add, “Aside from the fact that I have to split this project with you? How about the history between our dads?”
His brows dip together, and I conclude that he hasn’t heard the story.
“You should ask your father about it,” I say, and I raise my brows pointedly as I press my lips together.
His eyes flick to my mouth for a beat, and he shrugs. “Their history has nothing to do with us. Go out to dinner with me.”
I blow out a breath. I can’t deny the way my stomach clenches at his question. A guy who looks likehimis interested inme? And it’s not just that. He’s not just hot as fuck.
He’s a professional athlete who could have anyone in the entire universe, but for some reason his attention has landed on me.
He appears to be smart—smart enough to lead his office in this bid, anyway.
He’s the total package, and he’s from the one family my father warned me away from.
