Page 19 of Wild Blades

The guy I've spent the last two weeks arguing via email about schedules, guest appearances, and charity events.

He’s less than flexible.

Impassable.

More like, impossible.

And a complete brat.

He refuses to partake in any of my proposed publicity plans. He’s yet to sign off on the positive press releases I’ve written. He’s frustratingly annoying.

Wade has reneged on what we agreed in the boardroom at the Edmonton Eagles head office. I’m so close to telling Marcus where to shove his ‘wild rebellious player’ job. But if that’s what Wade is hoping for, he clearly hasn’t done his research.I’m not a quitter.

Never have been.

I sigh and lean back in my black leather chair, preparing myself for a barrage of abuse I’m sure he’s about to unleash. Having been treated like a mannequin for most of my life, I’ve developed a thick skin. Whatever happens next, I’m ready.

“What the hell is this?” He slams at least a dozen pieces of paper down on my desk.

Here we go.

Arms spread wide, palms down, he lays his hands on my desk, towering over me as I thumb the paperwork, even though I know exactly what it is.

“Oh, great it arrived.” I sent it by courier this morning, ensuring he got my message loud and clear. “But you haven’t signed it.” I thumb through them to find the last page. His tall, broad frame paints a shadow across my desk, filling my office with his exotic cologne that smells a lot like Creed. Got to hand it to him. The boy has taste.

“Don’t play dumb, Kali.”

I lift my gaze upward and bat my eyelashes, feigning innocence. “I’m not following.” I’m way too flippant and he knows it, which makes the skin of his neck flush a deeper shade of red.

“This...” Stabbing the pieces of paper repeatedly, his forehead is lined with dissatisfaction. “… is not fucking funny.”

“It’s not meant to be.” It was more of a threat than anything else.

“So, why did you send it to me?” His brows knit together.

I place my palms on my desk and use them to lift myself from my seat, and copy his stance.

Eyes locked in challenge, I refuse to be railroaded by this guy.

Railed by him would be quite nice though, I imagine.

Where the hell do these stupid thoughts keep coming from when I’m around him?

I push them aside quickly.

“Wade, listen to me carefully.” My tone is devoid of emotion to the point of being rude as I go official on his ass. “Following two weeks of emails between both parties, for the record, that’s you and me,” I clarify. “Where you explicitly outlined your refusal to partake in the calendar of events, guest appearances, interviews, or attend a meeting with me today to discuss what your brand messages will be and by what streams of media we will deliver them, you inadvertently accepted the transfer to another league as proposed by Marcus.”

Following a quick telephone conversation with Leon earlier to give me an update on Wade’s progress, it turns out he’s attended training sessions with Ash as well as sessions with the in-house sports psychologist. Which confirmed my suspicions; he’s only interested in doing the sports side of his agreement and none of the grief counseling with Thomas or the publicity work with me.

He’s even welcomed Lola into his world, letting her prepare meals for him, sort his admin, laundry; everything to help save him time. He’s been very accepting of everyone.

Except Thomas and me.

He’s picking and choosing the people he wants to work with, and that’s not how this works.

Struggling to lure him into the office, an idea struck me. I had Savanna send me a copy of the contract when Wade declined yet another meeting with me. I also called Thomas, who confirmed Wade had missed this week’s session again too.

I knew the only thing that would get Wade’s ass down here was the thing he fears the most; the transfer contract.

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