Page 2 of Their After Hours Playbook

“Good luck. I expect a full report tomorrow.” Teri rose from her chair, then led them out into the hall.

Zach splintered off from Teri and strode down the corridor, nodding and waving to his employees in their individual offices. A few people offered thin smiles, although their newest agent, Derek James, grinned from ear to ear as he paced his office, talking on the phone. Derek was hungry. He was eager to learn and climb the ladder of success. Zach liked Derek. Even if he could be a bit much sometimes. Some people in the office delivered an expression closer to a sneer. Not everyone was excited about Zach’s promotion. Some people resented him. After all, Zach was only thirty years old and there were some agents who’d worked at Armstrong for nearly as long as Zach had been alive. But Zach couldn’t let the chilly reception of a few dissuade him. He’d win them all over eventually.

He took the elevator down to the ground floor of their building and started the fifteen-or twenty-minute walk to the hotel where the draft was taking place. It was a beautiful April day, and Zach appreciated the chance to get outside for a few minutes, even though the sidewalk on 45th Street was jam-packed with people. He’d been cooped up in the office all day, and even he could admit that he’d been working too hard. He navigated the pedestrian congestion of Times Square and crossed Broadway to reach the hotel. As he looked up at the tower of glass and steel above him, he took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was on the precipice of making change, and that was a good thing.

Inside, Zach rode the escalator up to the third floor, then looped the all-access pass he’d obtained through a friend in the WPBA league offices around his neck. He ventured into the ballroom where the draft was taking place and began winding his way under rows of balloon arches while masses of people filtered inside. Dance music thumped through speakers and a festive feeling was in the air. It was like arriving at a New Year’s Eve party. Not a work event. At one end of the space was a large stage adorned with a WPBA backdrop and podium. Before it were dozens of round tables for the top projected picks, as well as their families and agents. The perimeter of the room was ringed with bleachers brimming with fans, while reporters milled about, talking to draft prospects as they waited for the proceedings to begin.

Zach’s plan was simple—work the room, talk to as many players as he could, and congratulate them and their families. He would acknowledge their hard work and dedication. He’d make sure they knew his name and that Armstrong Sports was ready to jump with both feet into women’s sports. He was about to get started when he spotted Paige Moss chatting with her star client, Alexis Simmons, who was projected to go number one in the draft. He knew he was supposed to fear Paige, but he didn’t have it in him, mostly because her dangerous curves, which were all wrapped up in a sinful black dress, were impossible to ignore. Her glossy blond locks were pulled up in a high ponytail that wagged back and forth as she talked, like she was brandishing a whip.

They’d never met, but he’d seen her in lots of photos. She was even more beautiful in person. Sexy. Tempting. A lesser man might avoid her, but not Zach. As soon as he made his way through the rest of the room, he was going to face the opposition head-on. And he sure as hell was going to enjoy the view while he did.

Paige Moss had every reason to be on top of the world tonight. Her client Alexis Simmons, one of the most talented point guards to ever bring a basketball up the court, was likely going to go number one in the WPBA draft. But it was the likely part that put her on edge. A lot of things hadn’t gone well for Paige in the last few years, personally and professionally—her divorce, her feud with Tom Armstrong and, most recently, the passing of Paige’s inspiration: her mom. Paige really wished she could have a guarantee tonight. Unfortunately, there were none of those in the world of professional sports agenting.

“Why do you seem so nervous? I should be the one who’s nervous.” Alexis tapped away at her phone with her acrylic nails. She didn’t wear them during basketball season because she was too much of a battler, but she embraced them when it was time to dress up. Paige could hardly blame her. Alexis looked like a model—tall and trim, with long black braids, high cheekbones and a flawless warm brown complexion. Her nails were simply the perfect touch.

Paige put her arm around her client’s shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze. “I’m not nervous. I’m just excited for you. This is all of your hard work coming to fruition. I hope you can appreciate that although this is a big moment in the spotlight, it’s only the first of many.”

Alexis smiled. “Thank you, Paige. Thank you for being there for me. I will never forget it.”

“No need to thank me. Just doing my job.” Of course, to Paige, being a sports agent was so much more than that. It was an all-consuming career, and she couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else. She loved sports, but more importantly, she loved women in sports. And she owed all of that to her mom.

Paige turned to survey the room and that was when she spotted a man who made her do a double take, and not just because he was unreasonably handsome. Either her eyes were deceiving her or that was Zach Armstrong. “What the hell is he doing here?” He had zero reason to be at this event.

Alexis looked up from her phone. “What? Who?”

Paige shook her head. Logic said that she should look away. Ignore Zach. But she couldn’t peel her eyes off him. It was partly because he was so nice to look at, but mostly, she was so damn confused. Zach’s agency didn’t sign female athletes. “Just an agent who has no reason to be here.”

“Who?”

Paige couldn’t turn away. “Zach Armstrong. He’s running Armstrong Sports, the most notoriously misogynistic agency in the history of sports.”

“Hold up. I know that name. He sent me flowers.”

That made Paige whip around to focus on Alexis. “Excuse me? He did what?”

Alexis shrugged. “He sent me flowers. The card said congratulations and wished me well for the future. But lots of people sent me flowers.”

“Other agents?”

She tilted her head to the side, thinking about it. “No.”

“Exactly.” Paige felt frozen, while her blood was at a boil so fast it made her dizzy. Take a breath, Paige. Take a damn breath. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m going to find my mom, then go sit at our table. Don’t take too long. We’ve both worked too hard for you to miss my pick.”

Paige grasped Alexis’s arm. “I promise you. I will not miss it. I’ll be back in five minutes.” Paige turned on her heel and marched across the room. All she could think about were the insulting things Zach’s stepdad, Tom, had said to her over the years. Now that Tom had been sidelined, did Zach think he could poach Alexis? Show up at the draft, tall and handsome and dressed in a suit that was tailored within an inch of his life, wearing a smug grin that said he was the crown prince of Armstrong Sports? What in the hell was he up to?

She came to a halt at a respectable distance, or more specifically, when she got a whiff of him that was so heavenly it made it hard to walk in heels. “You’re Zach Armstrong.” It wasn’t a question.

“I am.” His voice was rich with firm but warm tones.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked to see you here.”

“And you’re Paige Moss. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t absolutely delighted to see you.” He took a step closer. Between his shoulders and his considerable height, if felt like he blocked out all light in the room, but she caught the moment when his eyes were drawn to her neckline and he couldn’t help but peer right down the front of her dress. So let him look. He wouldn’t be the first man who’d become enamored by her breasts.

“Don’t give me that. You’re not delighted to see me.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a wry half-smile. “Actually, I am. But okay.”

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