Page List


Font:  

Chapter Three

Miranda closed theoffice door behind her and heaved a sigh. She had spent the last three hours reviewing documents, reports, and financial statements with Lucas, and that was just the overview of everything. Now he wanted time alone with the data and individual meetings with each department head before he made any of his thoughts known. Although one thing was clear. The situation wasn’t good and it would take a lot more than some belt-tightening before the Knights were in the black. Most likely it would take a complete overhaul in team strategy to right the course, and Seamus was not going to be supportive of anything different than what he already did.

Her muscles were tight and stretched like a rubber band pulled between two opposing forces. How long before she snapped? It was just day one in a long process. She already felt battered and beaten. Despite her exhaustion, another emotion twanged along her nerves.

Lust.

His very presence in such close proximity teased her senses, reminding her of how long she had been without a date, or anything more physical. During the season, it could be challenging to find a partner, especially with the demanding schedule her father insisted his executives keep, but in the off-season, she often took time for herself, a small vacation, some personal time. And a little stress relief. But after being named president last year, she hadn’t felt quite right taking time off this year.

That was all it was. Long denied physical desires rearing their ugly heads, distracting her and causing her to fantasize about their new consultant and public enemy number one. So what if he looked amazing without his suit jacket? He was just younger and different than the doughboys she worked with on an everyday basis.

Not Cole Hammonds, a tiny voice reminded her. You were never tempted by him.

She snorted, earning a sharp glance from a man walking by. She greeted him with a low murmur and waited for him to pass, leaning against the wall, looking through her tablet as if occupied.

She should have never gone to his office, where he was in control. Her father would never have stood for it. She should have brought him to her office, set the boundaries and their roles. In her own space, she would be less inclined to be swayed by how sexy he had grown. She could have stayed focused.

She sharply inhaled, still smelling a residual scent of his musky aftershave. Then, shaking her head to clear it, she pushed off the wall. Her knees still a bit weak, she walked the several feet down the hallway to her own office. Stacia Kendall, the players’ PR lead, sat in one of the chairs chatting up Miranda’s assistant. She jumped up when she saw Miranda stride into the small waiting area.

Miranda paused at her assistant’s desk and gave her instructions to schedule meetings with each of the vice presidents for Lucas in the next few days. Stacia followed her into the office, a worried look on her face.

Miranda and Stacia had grown up together but were never really close friends. They ran in the same social circles, with Stacia’s father a powerful United States senator and Miranda’s father a shipping magnate. More often than not, their fathers were opposed on many issues, but then again, most people were on opposite sides of both men, so there was that. But Miranda became reacquainted with Stacia when she was hired to clean up Jason’s Friar’s image for the last three months of the season, during which time they fell in love and each found new roles with the Knights. Since then, Stacia had focused on the players while Miranda worked on overall team image and corporate connections, and the proximity rebuilt their friendship. Miranda was grateful to have a sounding board of someone who understood her situation.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I got stuck with the new consultant, Lucas Wainright.” Miranda sank into her chair, groaning at the relief of being off her feet. She began opening desk drawers, looking for something for her burgeoning headache.

“I heard Mr. Callahan wasn’t too happy.” A frown furrowed Stacia’s brow. She sat in one of the chairs and crossed one leg over the other and waited.

Miranda grabbed the bottle of aspirin and slammed the drawer. “That’s putting it mildly. Damn, I should probably go and update him.”

“I think he can wait a few more minutes. You look like you need a break.” Stacia reached across the desk and gripped Miranda’s hand in hers, providing the only comfort she really could.

Miranda shrugged and downed the aspirin with a swallow from her morning tea that had grown cold in the intervening hours. “I need a long vacation and stock in a pharmaceutical company. This is going to be absolute hell.”

“Lucas Wainright?” Stacia’s brow arched. “Is he related to the guy who used to own the team?”

Miranda grimaced. “Yeah, well, he’s the league’s representative now. But, yes, his father was principal owner before my father.”

Stacia straightened, expression carefully blank. “Well, that changes everything. How did that go?”

“Not good. Bottom line, we have no choice. Accepting a loan from the league, then being in a precarious financial position opens us up for the league to step in. There are precedents for the commissioner to step in and appoint leadership and taking over troubled franchises. Look at Los Angeles a few years ago.”

“Are we really in that bad of shape?”

Miranda sighed and settled back in her chair. “Yes. My father has always played information close to the chest. But we don’t have the money for top players.”

“We never did, honestly. The Knights are in a small market, not New York.”

“Lucas suggested that the constant need for a big player is what sank us.”

“What choice do we have?”

“We need to find another way to succeed, assuming this is not the first salvo in the commissioner’s takeover of the Knights.”

Stacia muttered a curse. “What can we do?”

Miranda’s shoulders slumped. “I have no idea. But somehow we have to convince my father to work with new ideas. And I’m not sure I can do that.”

“If you can’t do it, no one else can.”


Tags: Megan Ryder Romance