Page 47 of Make the Play

Chase makes anmmmsound, and smirks at me like he’s rememberingexactlyhow affectionate I can be.

I prod a finger into his chest so fast he barely has time to react. “Don’t finish that thought.”

He looks down and grins at my finger on him, eyes dancing with mischief as I dig it in deeper. And unfortunately, that’s when John Raines chooses to make his entrance.

“Carlson. Walton.”

I whip my finger away, my heart slamming into my ribs as I turn, because standing right there by the conference room doors is the Storm’s Head of PR and Neil Murphy—the kind of corporate man who signs his emails withBest Regardsand has a firm handshake competition with every man he meets. They look deeply unimpressed at the scene they’ve just witnessed.

They’re accompanied by a handful of execs from the Pulse side, including Rachel Cohen, my direct boss. They all stand there, watching this circus, surely trying to determine whether we’re mature enough to be in charge of our respective careers.

Chase doesn’t seem to care.

“Johnny,” he greets cheerily, like this isn’t the most mortifying moment of my entire fucking career. “Good to see you.”

The GM eyes him like he’s actively considering a trade. “Boardroom. Now.”

I nearly throw myself through the conference room doors just to escape this conversation.

Charlie wipes under her eyes as she watches us go. “Godspeed,babe.”

Chapter eleven

I’m a fucking drama queen when I don’t get my way

Zoe

Irush into the conference room with my tablet, ready to be professional and in control, only for Chase to strut in and lounge back in one of the chairs right next to me.

He stretches out his long legs and drapes and arm lazily over the backrest of the seat next to mine, and the absolute fucking audacity of this man is that he looks so damnpleasedwith himself.

John and Neil sit down, along with my boss, and the Pulse crew. I tap on my tablet, pointedly not looking at Chase.

Naturally, Chase turns toward me with a huge shit-eating grin, resting his chin on his fist as if he’s settling in for entertainment.

I exhale sharply. We are in a professional setting. I will not let him bait me.

John sits at the head of the table and doesn’t look impressed. “Alright, let’s get through this. This is a professional arrangement.”

No shit.

“Zoe, your job is secure as long as there’s no conflict of interest.”

Fantastic.

“This technically still falls under non-fraternization, but because it’s PR-mandated, there are controlled exceptions.”

I nod sagely and press my palms flat against the table. Clarify, control the narrative, keep this tight.

“So, just to be clear…” I keep my voice as sharp and professional as possible. “This is still non-fraternization. We are not actually together. This is a business arrangement.”

Chase sighs dramatically beside me. “Baby, don’t talk about our relationship like that in front of our friends.”

My jaw locks, and I jab my heel into his foot under the table. He doesn’t even flinch.

Neil clears his throat, flipping through his copy of the contract. “The agreement states that as long as this remains a strictly professional endeavor and does not evolve into a real romantic entanglement that would compromise Zoe’s ability to perform her job, there is no violation of company policy.”

I nod once. “Understood.”

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