Page 9 of Rookie Move
She hadn’t looked at him yet, either. Did she even know he was here?
“Do I have to say this exactly as it’s written?” O’Doul asked, skimming the page.
“No, as long as you sound warm and articulate.”
“Just like I am every day.” He chuckled. “Fine. What else?”
“One more thing.” She cleared her throat and shifted her weight. “I need you to welcome a new player after you welcome your coach. Georgia dropped her eyes to the page in front of her again. As if she needed notes to get Leo’s name right. “Mr. Leonardo Trevi, rookie forward, formerly of the Muskegon Muskrats. Traded from Detroit to Brooklyn for a second round draft pick this spring.”
“Got it,” O’Doul said.
Leo saw Georgia gather herself together. She took a deep breath and looked straight at him, as if she’d known exactly where he was the whole time. They locked eyes for a nanosecond before she blinked and broke off their staring contest. “Why aren’t you wearing a purple tie?” she demanded.
After six years, that’s what she wanted to say first? Her terseness took Leo by surprise, delaying his answer by a beat. “Sorry. Didn’t own one. Muskrats don’t wear purple ties.” He smiled at her, hoping to put her at ease.I know this is weird, Gigi. But we can survive it.
But, damn it, her face shut down even more. “Someone trade with him,” she snapped, looking down at the watch on her smooth wrist. And,hell, he knew that watch. He’dbought it for her with nearly all his savings. It had been a graduation present. He’d stood in Saks Fifth Avenue for a long time trying to figure out which was the most beautiful. He’d been so desperate to make her smile that spring. He would have done anything. Given her anything.
It hadn’t worked.
“Two minutes,” Georgia said, her voice gruff. “I want you to file into the press conference inexactlytwo minutes. Your seats are reserved in the two front rows. Do not take any questions on your way in. We’ll start the conference the moment you’re seated.” Then she turned around and strode out of the room in those unlikely shoes.
“Dibs on giving the rookie my purple tie!” Silas yelled. “I called it.”
Leo watched Georgia disappear. And then he took off his perfectly good green silk tie and took Silas’s ugly one.
THREE
As Georgia left the lounge, the words she’d said to Leo echoed through her head.Why aren’t you wearing a purple tie?God, was it cocktail hour yet? She’d actuallysnappedat him.
But she’d been caught off guard. As in her guard was on the G train to Queens as soon as she’d gotten a proper look at that chiseled jaw and those big dark eyes, with lashes so thick that there was practically a breeze whenever he blinked.
Now she’d have to take Taylor Swift’s advice and shake it off, though. There was a press conference to throw, and it didn’t matter if her knees were quaking. She walked straight into the press room to find fifty reporters shifting in their seats, hoping that Georgia would get the show on the road so they could file before lunchtime.
Checking her watch one more time, she took up a stealthy position on the side wall, out of sight yet near enough to the dais so that she could put out any fires or provide any necessary information. Everything was in place except for the only thing that mattered—all that was needed now were the team, the coach, and the owner.
Luckily, Nate Kattenberger appeared in the doorway. On his way to the front, he stopped for a moment in front of her. “Good crowd, Number Three. Well done.”
The unexpected praise from a self-made billionaire made her stomach flutter. “Thank you!”
He moved on, stepping onto the raised platform and rounding the table to the center, taking the power seat and smirking at the reporters. Seriously, she needed to work on this man’s RSF. Resting Smug Face. It wouldn’t win him any points with either the media or his players.
Coach Karl was the next man to enter the room, and when he did, all the journalists leaned forward in their chairs. Then they all reached for their phones and began tweeting or texting or whatever it was journalists did first when they were in possession of today’s latest bit of sports gossip.Karl Worthington is the new coach of the Brooklyn Bruisers.Their forefingers began hammering out the scoop as quickly as possible. In two minutes this would be old news, so they had to get it out fast.
As she watched her strong, capable father mount the dais and take a seat, for one golden second she forgot to worry about anything. She’d always loved growing up in a sports-centered household. It was a good life, and she was proud of her dad.
But then, right on schedule, the players began entering the room, passing her on the way to their reserved seats in the first and second rows. One by one they filed by in their suits.
Georgia wasn’t blind—the men whose public image she guarded were hotter than the scotch bonnet peppers at the Borough Hall Greenmarket. But at work, she made it her habit to be a bit frosty. Okay, alotfrosty. Getting them to like her wasn’t the goal. Getting them tolistento her was everything. It was her job to keep the players in line and out of trouble with the media, and she couldn’t do that if they saw her as their buddy. It didn’t help her credibility that she was younger than many of them, either. So she always brought her most professional self into the room when addressing the players.
She braced herself for the arrival of the final two players, but no amount of preparation would have been enough.A broader, superhero version of Leo Trevi walked past, not two feet away. And he lookedridiculouslyhot in a dark charcoal suit.God. Seeing him was a sucker punch to the gut. Once upon a time he’d loved her. And then when he’d stopped, it wasn’t really his fault.
A girl could get seriously lost in her memories staring at him.
Without wanting to, Georgia began cataloguing all the ways he looked different. His hair was shorter than it had been, and the trim made him look older. The scruff on his chin was new. She wanted to stroke her thumb across his jaw to see if it was rough or soft.
One of his big hands clutched a bottle of water.No wedding ring, her mind offered up. She remembered how those hands felt on her body...
Someone coughed on the dais. That’s when Georgia realized she was staring.
