Page 26 of Stumped

Lucky Shot, my PR and marketing firm, won the pitch a few months ago and it’s been nothing but cricket at the office since. It’s also been impossible to meet with the owner and management to nail down all the things we need to do. I signed a contract and we put together multiple plans in place they’ve been working with slowly. I intend to do so much more.

Which is why I accepted the invite and brought my core team with me. I refused to attend the match, not wanting to sit through however many hours of a sport I dislike. While my team was at Wankhede Stadium?1 cheering for the boys in yellow, I was in my hotel room going over their brief and requirements.

After being passed over for promotions and being told I have to work harder to earn more money, I finally quit working for privileged men and started my own company. I learned so much from those assholes and made sure to never make the same mistakes. My leadership team is made up of women and queer folks alike, the staff are promoted based on their appraisals and meeting their goals. We celebrate every single win and remind each person that their contributions are valuable.

My goal is to always help every employee grow, not curb their enthusiasm. It’s why we’ve been called one of the best places to work in South India.

“Ms. Thomas, thank you so much for joining us. I hope you enjoyed the match,” Mr. Jaishankar says as he settles into the seat across from me. I can tell from his speech that the Renegades owner has had too much to drink.

“Thank you for inviting us. My team certainly had the time of their lives.”

“That’s right, I hear you’re not a fan of the sport.”

I offer him a tight smile. I can do my job without having to love the brand I’m working for. I need to know what they want, understand their needs and it’ll be enough.

“I spoke with someone on your team to finalise all of the marketing plans we shared,” I start, needing to stay on task. “We’ve also put together a few revamped ideas that we can implement once you’re back in Chennai. And as discussed, a small group is willing to travel with the Renegades to get as much content as much as we can.”

Mr. Jaishankar nods, which looks more like a drunken head loll, and a sleazy smile crosses his lips. I don’t react or move. Men like him—with money, power and a famous name—think that everyone cowers in front of them. I’ve seen lesser people bend and break, but I’ve also learned from watching them that nothing good comes from that.

I’ll work with the Chennai Renegades, but notforthem. No matter how much money Mr. Jaishankar offers.

The gentleman beside the drunken slimeball clears his throat nervously. “Ms. Thomas, I think it might be better if we reschedule this meeting for the morning. Would that be all right with you?”

“Sure.”

“We’ve booked out the business centre for tomorrow, I’ll send you all the details tonight.”

“Looking forward to it,” I tell him, a genuine smile on my lips.

He nods and leans over to speak to Mr. Jaishankar who slurs in response. I don’t blame him for celebrating, they won tonight. But from a professional standpoint, this was a terrible move. I look up as I sip on my water—disguising it as a gin and tonic has been easy, add a little soda and a wedge of lime—and find Elias watching me. He’s standing with some teammates, nodding at what one of them is saying, but his eyes are fixed on me. When I arch an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitches and I hide my own smile with my glass.

Once everyone leaves, I empty my glass and get to my feet. I don’t have to look to know that Elias is still staring, because I can feel his gaze like a hot caress. I head to the bar and slide the extra keycard to the bartender, and give him instructions before heading to the elevator bank.

ThenI text Elias.

Room 543. Spare key is at the bar.

Nine. Enjoying the view, superstar?

Elias

Standing outside Vera’s hotel room, I twirl the keycard between my fingers. When she sent me the text, I thought it was my imagination. I pinched myself to make sure she wanted me, just like I wanted her.

My reaction to her didn’t go unnoticed. Samar and Bash watched her walk away too, their attention on me once she was out of sight. They even insisted I ditch the celebration for her. But I need Mr. Jaishankar and the rest of the senior management to know I’m serious about my recovery. I miss the rush of walking out onto the pitch, the screaming fans and the buzz that follows as I’m facing down the bowler.

I want it again.

I want Vera just as much.

In order to have both, I need to play it cool. Which is why it took me a little over an hour to finish making the rounds before I ventured downstairs.

Behind those inches of thick wood is the woman that’s filled my every thought. The woman Iyearn forin ways I can’t put into words.Don’t chicken out now. With a deep breath, I tap the card against the reader. The red light turns green and I push the door open.

I’m instantly enveloped in her mouthwatering scent—vanilla, shea butter and peaches. The room is bathed in dim lights, the bed rumpled and unmade. The balcony doors are open, letting in the sounds of the city and the cool ocean breeze. I inhale deeply and soak up being wrapped in Vera. She’s a drug I never want to quit.

“Took you long enough.” She walks out of the bathroom and my heart gives up on its one and only job.

This is not the same woman I spent the night with a week ago or from the rooftop earlier. She’sbetter. Dressed in a large baggy T-shirt that falls to her knees, she looks relaxed and sexy as hell. Much like the picture I saved from her Instagram, her dark hair is piled on top of her head, a few tendrils hang down the sides. Her face is clear of makeup and her brown skin glows. She’s not very tall—maybe about five feet five to my six feet—but her bare legs look endless. When I finish checking her out, she’s smiling. Not the guarded one I saw with my boss, or naughty like I’ve seen before. This one is soft and genuine, it’s startling how different Vera looks in the privacy of a hotel room.

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