Page 16 of False Play
My life had been centered on reaching out and scheduling photo ops for Anderson. I had also been planning the Family Skate we host closer to Christmas time with Val. And, to top it all off, Brad decided to assign Matt and me to organizeStrikers Unite—the annual gala we hosted for our sponsors and season ticket holders toward the end of the season to raise money and awareness for our favorite nonprofit organizations. It was our biggest event every year, and even though it was months away, Matt was a total nightmare to work with.
How could I put this delicately? Matt was the type of man who liked to cut corners, and thought because he had a set ofballs, the world owed him shit.
We butted heads a lot. It was also no secret he thought Iwas “too vocal” and had even said I was “too much of a woman” behind my back.
Funny how it all worked, right? Because if I had been a man with the same personality traits, I’d have been considered “strong” and “determined.”
Double-standards sure were a bitch in the twenty-first century.
I loved my job. So what if I had to work with a misogynistic, stuck-up asshole? He knew damn well I’d fight him back every chance I got. He could call me everything he wanted—to my face or behind my back. I wasn’t going to back down. Especially because I knew this was a test. I may have only been working here for three years, but I knew my boss well. Brad taught me many things, and he loved to challenge his employees to their maximum potential.
“This is my favorite type of lunch. How did you know?”
Anderson shrugged. “I ran into Val at the employees’ cafeteria.”
“Val isn’t here today.” I raised an eyebrow. “Why are you lying?”
He had the decency to look embarrassed as he relented, “Fine.” Blush crept up his cheeks, making his ridiculously cute freckles pop. “You always get the same thing, so it was easy to remember. It was no big deal.”
I reared back in my chair in shock. He sure was observant. It was the second time he had done something similar, and I had mixed feelings about it. Not even Joe remembered basic things like my favorite type of soda. He’d always been kind of clueless. It never bothered me, I guess. I understood that not every man was the detail-oriented type.
“Why are you being so nice? Still trying to get on my good side?”
He took a seat with a scoff. “It’s just lunch, Kennedy. Not everyone’s out to get you.”
He wasn’t wrong, but the comment still left a mark. I knew he didn’t mean anything by it. He liked to mess with me, sure, but doing things for his benefit had never been his MO. I’d always questioned people’s intentions because it was rare for people to be genuine around me, and over the years, it made me…cautious. Being guarded meant I came off as too rude, or a bitch. I couldn’t help it.
I gave him a small smile. “Thanks, I guess,” I mumbled. “I’ll transfer you some money for it.”
“Jonesy.” He fixed me with a bored stare. “You do realize I make millions of dollars a year, right?”
I opened the bowl and grabbed the dressing packet and opened it with my teeth then squeezed it. I placed the lid back and shook it a few times to spread the dressing around. “Always so humble.”
A knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Why, thank you,” he replied as he lifted the lid of his chicken, rice, and broccoli bowl. “So, what’d you wanna talk about?” he asked before taking a huge bite. He swallowed it so alarmingly fast, I was afraid he was going to choke in the middle of my office.
“You’re going to choke eating that fast.”
He lifted his shirt slightly, revealing his perfectly sculpted abs, and patted his chiseled stomach. “I’m a growing boy, I can handle it.” He winked.
The movement alone was casual, but it still irritated the hell out of me. Yes, Anderson was the bane of my existence most of the time, but it was unfair how he managed to make every action sensual. I had been immune to it until recently. I didn’t know how it happened, or when, but I started to notice these little things about him. It was annoying, to say the least.
“Is it true you’re looking for a roommate?” I asked, notwanting to dance around the topic anymore. “I don’t want to be invading your space.”
He nodded. “I do need someone to take care of”—he coughed and cringed—“Captain Sushi, at least part-time.”
I laughed. “I thought the name was a joke.”
“Nope. Unfortunately, not a joke,” he muttered as his left leg began to bounce.
I nodded and took a bite of my salad as I stared at him. Maybe if I fixed him with my well-known intense stare, he would break. Or so I was hoping. Considering Hayes had been the one who brought it up, I was more than skeptical. Let’s just say, though he was a nice guy and he meant well, he wasn’t the most reliable of the bunch.
“He’s the sweetest and won’t cause any trouble,” Anderson added.
“Is this like a temporary thing until the season is over?” I asked.
“You can stay for as long as you like.” He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. “But can I ask you a question?”
My stomach dropped slightly. I had a feeling what he was about to ask, and against my will, I gave him a soft nod to continue.
