Page 9 of Play Me
Renn gives me a soft smile that deflates a bit of my sarcasm. “So you’ll do it?”
I sink back into my chair and wish I could turn him down.
Renn loves nothing more than his family and the Tennessee Royals. This is his non-human baby, the love of his sports life. He brings in the best of the best. Players and coaches, medical, legal, and media departments—they’re all the brightest in their field. If Renn trusts me enough to bring me on board in this capacity, to be lumped in with the rest of his hand-selected staff? That’s an honor and a big flex.
And heisdoubling my pay.
“Fine.” I shrug. “I’m in. I want it on the record that I don’t want to be in, but I’ll do it for you.”
“Thanks, Astrid. This is really important to me, and there’s no one else I trust more for this.”
“Maybe I should be less reliable,” I say as Renn picks up his phone. “I’m really a victim of my own success.”
Renn says something to his executive assistant, then puts the receiver back into the cradle.
“When do I get started with Gray?” I ask.
A knock raps twice against the door behind me. The sound is not a gentle rapping. It’s loud. Aggressive.Foreshadowing.
“That’s him,” Renn says to me before looking over my shoulder. “Come in.”
I turn around, my stomach tightening at the anticipation of meeting Gray. It would’ve been nice to have a few minutes to get a plan together—to figure out how to charm him intocooperating with me. Because something tells me that this isn’t going to go as smoothly as Renn hopes, regardless of whether Gray signed a contract that included the stipulation or not.
I paste a smile on my face and poise myself to say hello. But that goodwill gesture melts as my gaze lands on a set of broody, and familiar, deep brown eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, gripping the armrests like I’m trying to strangle them.
“Astrid, this is Gray Adler. He’s the newest member of the Tennessee Royals,” Renn says. “Gray, it’s good to see you. This is Astrid Lawsen. She’ll be your personal assistant for the rest of the season.”
A slow smirk settles against his lips.
Oh, hell no.
CHAPTER
THREE
Gray
There’s no fucking way.
My gaze sweeps over Miss Manners, the hothead from the gas station, sitting across from my new boss.
“Gray, come on in and grab a seat,” Mr. Brewer says as I shut the door behind me.
Astrid’s shock swiftly darkens, staring daggers at me as I sit in the chair next to her. Mr. Brewer looks between us, picking up on the fact that something is amiss … and potentially volatile. I’m sure he’s wondering how that’s possible since I just got to Nashville. It usually takes me at least a week to make enemies.
His gaze settles on me. I shrug in response.
The world’s a shit show, sir. Welcome to mine.
I sit calmly, running my hands down my thighs, and don’t look at Astrid. That’s partially because this isn’t the appropriate venue to fight with her, and I have a feeling that’s what it’ll be. She’s not one to back down, and frankly, neither am I.
My mind tries to process this strange turn of events, but there’s no time. Our boss jumps into the thick of it before I can get my thoughts together.
“I take it you two have met,” he says.
“You could say that.” Astrid shifts in her chair, putting as much space between us as she can. I find that oddly amusing.
