Page 32 of Matched with the Player

She was getting the job done in short order and impressing him even more. No wonder she’d been her mother’s manager. She was efficient and charming, but utterly professional. He only had to nod at the appropriate moments while Marissa spoon-fed her contacts some stock quotes about Kyle’s goals for the hockey season as an aside to their new romance.

“Anything else?” she asked him suddenly, making him remember he wasn’t just here to watch her work. Or to countdown the minutes until they’d be alone together.

He straightened, already thinking about kissing her senseless in the limo he had waiting outside.

“Not that I can think of. I still owe you a date tonight.” He figured it was okay to flirt with her since they were trying to sell the relationship that he’d always told himself he’d never have during a playoff push.

While the women oohed and aahed about how romantic he was, Marissa turned to him and lowered her voice.

“Did you want to talk about your youth hockey camp with her?” she prompted, like a born promoter. “You might generate some more sponsorships if it’s mentioned in the paper.”

“I’ve already got some interest.” Kyle had spoken to the owner of the Phantoms’ hockey arena about using the space already. “Phil Goodwell is donating the ice time and some funding.”

Marissa frowned.

“But if that falls through, don’t you think it would be wise to make sure you have some backups?”

Before he’d made up his mind, Marissa was already relating his plan to Shawna, who took notes on a cocktail napkin now that her phone battery had died.

Kyle didn’t interrupt, letting her call the shots with the media since she seemed comfortable with the role. Still, he was surprised about her strong support of the hockey camp. He’d only mentioned it briefly to her.

“Thank you.” He spoke into her ear as they rose to leave the meeting.

“No problem.” She peered back over her shoulder, having no idea how much she’d helped him.

“I mean it.” He tugged gently on her arm, wanting to be sure she knew how damn grateful he was. “You were amazing back there.”

“I got good at keeping my mom’s interviews on schedule. Otherwise, she’d chat everyone’s ear off.”

Not until that moment did he realize how much she deflected attention from herself. He’d seen it in the way she dressed before, but now he understood it went deeper than that. She didn’t even take credit for work that she was very, very good at.

“It was more than that.” His chest warmed at how easily she’d solved a whole world of problems for him. “I never would have thought of mentioning the hockey camp. I really want to make that happen this year.”

He couldn’t read the expression that crossed her face, but it vanished a moment later.

“I hope that it helps.” She edged closer, her skirt teasing along his leg again in a silken swish. “But right now, Kyle, you owe me a date and I intend to collect.”

* * *

“I can’t follow this woman anymore.”

Isaac Reynolds frowned at the frustrated voice coming through his phone in his home office. He’d called his head of security for an update on Stacy Goodwell, not a resignation.

“Can’t or won’t?” Isaac switched open the video conference window on his computer so he could see the guy he’d tasked to keep tabs on Stacy for the next forty-eight hours.

Although preliminary checks into her background suggested she was a privileged local girl who wrote a column for the Philly paper, Isaac wasn’t taking chances. His high tech business full of corporate espionage taught him to trust no one.

“Can’t,” the head of his security team answered flatly, turning his phone’s camera so Isaac could see his face. Bob Wyatt had twenty years of experience and normally appeared well groomed and competent. Right now, he looked sweaty, disheveled and pissed off. “Take a look at where we are.”

He swung the camera for a jerky view of his whereabouts. Passengers stared straight ahead, packed in tight while the steady hum of a motor made white noise in the background.

“On a bus? To where?” Isaac clicked the window to enlarge the picture. “And where the hell is she?”

He hadn’t seen her in the pan of the swaying motor coach.

“We’re headed to Pittsburgh and she’s in the back,” he hissed into the phone, drawing attention from the guy next to him who made a face in the frame beside him. “I can’t very well film her for you since she’s taping the whole damn ride herself.”

“That makes no sense.” Isaac didn’t want to be intrigued. At least not until he was 100% sure she was really interested in him, and not some glamorous distraction who’d been hired to steal his research. “Why would she film a bus trip?”

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