Page 22 of Hello Quarterback

I smiled at her praise. “Thank you.” For some reason, the way she was looking at me, like she admired me, made my chest feel lighter. The reaction confused me. I had thousands of fans,and she’d declared us merely business partners, so why did her approval affect me this way?

The food arrived, and we ate the rest of our meal while talking about nothing important. I walked her back to her car, and just like Tallie asked, I leaned in, kissing Mia on the cheek. Her skin was soft and warm under my lips, and I didn’t want to pull away. So I lingered a moment longer, humming, “Do you think it’s working?”

She pulled away, an emotion in her eyes that I couldn’t quite read. “I hope so. Goodbye, Ford.”

13

MIA

The morningafter my date with Ford, I had a meeting with Tallie to brief me on the public’s reaction. At this point, I knew better than to go rogue and read headlines about myself. Tallie reviewed them daily and passed on the info, withholding some of the harsher, more personal critiques.

I sipped on my coffee, answering a few emails nested in a never-ending inbox, until a knock sounded on my glass office door. Tallie and Vanover waited for me, side by side. Both of them had worn charcoal pantsuits with green button-down tops.

I had to grin as I waved them in. “Didn’t know we instituted a dress code.”

Tallie and Vanover glared at each other, and Vanover said, “Unhappy accident.”

“You didn’t call each other last night to prep?” I teased.

Tallie glared.

Chuckling, I said, “Van, can I please get a refill on my coffee and whatever Tallie wants?”

Vanover nodded. “I’m drinking a matcha latte, so I’m assuming you’d like to copy that too.”

“Latte,” she huffed, and when Vanover didn’t move, she added a “please.”

Seemingly satisfied, he left us in my office, where we met at the big glass desk overlooking all of Dallas. It was a beautiful view, and I tried not to get lost in it too often. Especially not when I was dying to hear Tallie’s take on the news.

“Well?” I prompted.

Tallie opened her folder, tugging out a glossy photograph of Ford and me. My lips parted at the image—how Ford and I looked together, him pressing his lips to my cheek, my eyes closed softly, dark lashes fanning over my pale cheeks. His hand rested comfortably on my arm, like he’d done so a dozen times before.

We looked like... a couple.

When I glanced back up at Tallie, her eyes were alight with excitement. “This image—or some version of it—has circulated every major newspaper and gossip column in the country, several major sports outlets, as well as most local papers in the state.”

I looked down at the image again. “The headlines?” I had to brace myself for her answer. Even though I knew I was a strong, successful woman, there was a part of me that also knew I would forever be judged harshly for my weight, my looks, far more than I would ever be praised for any of my accomplishments. Especially when dating a man known for his physical abilities.

Tallie waved her hand. “Doesn’t much matter. People are talking, speculating, which was the goal at this stage any?—”

The door to my office opened, and we looked up. I’d expected to see Vanover entering with our coffee. Instead, Thomas opened the door without knocking and oozed in like an oil slick in his black Armani suit and gelled-back hair.

“I’m in a meeting,” I said pointedly.

He glanced at the photo on the table, and I hurriedly swept it away.

“Seems very important,” he drawled.

“Yes?” I asked, letting impatience color my voice. I knew he never would have barged in on a meeting when Gage was in charge. “Something better be on fire.”

“It’s this damn company that’s on fire,” he said. “While you two are gossiping over a picture, I met with a potential acquisition in the retail sector earlier and we could hardly talk business around all the questions they had about your new fling with this quarterback.”

I got up from the table and stepped closer to him, slowly, letting his impatient ass fume while I approached. When we were nose to nose, I narrowed my gaze and said, “Are you having trouble steering a meeting? Sounds like a personnel issue.”

He sneered. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s an observation. Much like I’m also observing you, in my office, interrupting a meeting and throwing a tantrum like a toddler.” I enunciated each word, letting them hit him one after another. “Toddlers have no place in this office or this company, Thomas. Do you understand me?”

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