Page 135 of At First Smile
“What are you guys doing here?” I rub at my nape.
“You two talk about this place all the time, so we thought we’d check it out,” Greg says.
“You drove all the way from Sherman Oaks for a croissant?” My eyebrow quirks.
“It is areallygood croissant,” Pen quips.
“We also wanted to see Pen and bring her this.” Sasha holds out a glittery giftbag.
“How’d you know we’d be here?” A crease lines my forehead.
“I have tracking devices on all my clients.” Greg’s hazel eyes lock on mine, a steely expression on his face.
“Daddy saw you two walking to the restaurant as we were driving towards Aunt Pen’s place.” Damon giggles.
“Kid, I was trying to be intimidating.” Greg sighs.
The staff pushes the table next to us over allowing the five of us to sit together. We share two croissants before eating our meals. Pen and Greg chatter on about the World War Two podcast they’re both obsessed with. Damon drinks milk out of a coffee cup to mimic the adults with our coffees and teas. Since the MVP event, Pen’s been volunteering at several Foundationevents with Sasha. We’ve also spent more social time with Sasha, Greg, and Damon.
“I have to admit something… We didn’t just come to bring you a gift,” Sasha says, a sheepish expression in place.
Pen’s head tilts, a furrow forming on her forehead.
“Greg and I want to offer you a job with the MVP Foundation. As Assistant Foundation Director. Your professional experience and passion for this work make you the ideal candidate.”
It makes sense. The MVP Foundation aligns with Pen’s platform. Besides volunteering with them, she and Sasha are even meeting with the Bobcats about an adaptive sports night at a game this season. Turns out, Madeline Jacobson, the team’s owner, isn’t all talk. She’s personally met with Pen and Sasha to discuss the event, and what changes would be needed to make the arena more accessible.
“Pen would be a great fit,” I say tentatively, my gaze moving to her.
Greg taps his thick fingers against the table’s wrought iron surface. “Not to mention your public persona. We won’t pretend that isn’t appealing.”
Sasha shoots Greg a glare.
“What?” He shrugs. “I don’t blow smoke up anyone’s ass.”
“Daddy swore,” Damon whispers, his hands covering his big smile.
Pen blinks. “I’m honored, but I have a job.”
“Hear us out. We can offer you twenty percent more in annual salary compared to what you’re paid at the hospital.” Greg leans in like a cat ready to pounce on a helpless mouse.
It’s his typical position in negotiations. He’s assessing when to strike to get just what he wants. Only Pen isnomouse. Even if a big part of me roots for him to win this battle, I know my girl.
“How do you know how much I make?”
Greg smirks. “It’s my job to know everything.”
“Ego much?” Sasha rolls her eyes before continuing, “There are other perks. A flexible schedule. Also, most of the work you’ll do can be done remotely, so you can work from home or even from hotel rooms when someone is traveling for away games.” She winks.
“I won’t be traveling with Rowan. He needs to focus on the game. Also, the players are required to stay with each other. Plus?—"
“Plus, no more random dogs to contend with walking from the bus,” Greg interjects, a wry grin etched across his face.
Pen nods.
Greg goes on, “And you’d work for an organization that truly understands what you bring to the table… Everything you’re capable of doing.”
Pen’s lips purse.
