Page 9 of Sliding into Love
It’s fine.
I’ll be fine.
Remember, Royce, we’re out for revenge. Don’t make any of this easy on him.
Turning to face Kenneth, I find him already looking me over. His gaze takes in my outfit for a long moment before striding up to meet my eyes. I see a flash of emotion there. It’s almost… No, it couldn’t be what I’m thinking. He can’t possibly feel attracted to me.
I scoff softly at the stupid idea.
“Please lead the way to your office. I’d like to get acquainted with everything in the way you’d normally handle it,” I tell him calmly.
His posture is stiff as he takes us through the halls and up a level to his executive space. I revel in the formality of it all.This is the way our business dealings will go. The less familiarity there is between us, the better. I don’t need him thinking he intimidates me any longer. I’ve long since changed from the child I was when his tactics worked.
As an adult, I refuse to let him control my emotions.
The first thing I notice about Kenneth Meyer’s office is how vastly different it is from the man I thought I knew. There’s a softness to the space that doesn’t track. He’s got comfortable seating, knickknacks all around, and a view that baseball fans would kill for.
I take it all in with a measured sort of wonder. Despite being unexpected, I can’t let it deter me from what I’ve come here to do. I need to replace his presence in this organization, which means learning everything he does to make this place run and doing it twice as well.
“First thing I do each day is check email. I prioritize what's most important to the organization and work my way through it. Since the PR team handles a lot of the fluff stuff, I usually get the more detailed requests or problems that can’t be solved at a lower-management level.”
I nod along as I keep my eyes on the field. The team is spreading out to start practice. I’ve been studying a bit about baseball, so I recognize what some of the equipment they bring out does. I also notice the grouping of the training staff and how they’re watching certain people more than others. It makes me wonder if they’re the elite players or if we’re nursing some injuries. Bell has always said that an injury to an athlete can be a death sentence.
Kenneth continues droning on behind me about meetings with investors and events the team schedules in advance for the year. I listen with my business eye, careful not to let myself get swept up in the energized way he speaks about this team.
It’s obvious that he loves it here. Why he would sell it is beyond me. I couldn’t imagine giving up anything I’d spent so much time and effort on. Not even for the amount of money I’m sure my brother is shelling out for it.
When his voice trails off, I turn to see what else I need to question him about. The speech he just gave was more of an informative overlay about everything rather than a guidebook. I’m sure there are things he’s forgotten to tell me too. All the more reason for me to stick around as he works through his day over these next few weeks.
“Do you have any questions so far?” he asks, his eyes on the papers covering his desk.
I shake my head, then move to take a seat across from him. Before sinking down, I unbutton my blazer. The move reveals more of the corset I’ve got on over my top.
Immediately, Kenneth’s gaze latches onto the fabric. I watch his pupils dilate as I slowly ease down into the chair. He doesn’t look away as I cross my legs, nor does he move a muscle at all. He’s transfixed on my body like a predator waiting for a chance to take out his prey.
What the actual fuck is going on here? Is this another one of his games?
Make me think he’s interested sexually, then he’s going to humiliate me.
“Something wrong with my outfit?”
His eyes race to meet mine at my harsh question. He swallows thickly, then shakes his head.
“No. Nothing wrong. It’s… nice. Very flattering.”
I frown at the compliment. Did he get body snatched by aliens? This isn’t the man I know.
The Kenneth I grew up around would tell me I’m dressed too fucking girly or that I shouldn’t be crossing my legs becausethat’s only for women. He couldn’t understand my love for all types of fabrics and styles.
I didn’t care what section of the store it came from, so long as it felt good and told the story I wanted it to. My clothes are my way of communicating with the outside world without having to speak. One glance in my direction can say more than an hour’s long speech could.
While most people simply ignore my choices or write them off as outlandish fashion ideals, Kenneth and his bestie always seemed to be transfixed by them. In our youth, the pair made it seem like they hated it because of societal gender norms. Their patriarchal thinking limited them to what a person presenting as a certain gender should wear.
But now, I’m looking at a man who doesn’t seem perturbed by my outfit. It’s more of an appreciation in his gaze. Or maybe it’s simply acceptance since I’m taking over his beloved sports team.
Either way, I’m not going to let his head games get to me. I’m here for the job, not for him. He can deal with my clothing choices just like everyone else does.
In the silence of his stilted compliment, I count down the number of days I have left to work with him. It’s far longer than I’d like, but I know it’s necessary. I’m going to make the Bellport Blue Jays the best baseball team in… whatever baseball teams have. Conferences? Sections? The country, maybe? Whatever title it is they’re after, I’m going to help them get there.
