Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
It took me eighteen months to end that kind of situation the last time, and I have no interest in repeating it anytime soon—or ever. Besides, this weekend is about work. I need to focus on that.
“I don’t typically set up dinner dates with men I’ve only just met on planes,” I say. “Sorry.”
“What are the requirements then?”
Huh? “What do you mean?”
“Tell me what I need to do to see you tonight.”
His features change, morphing into the serious businessman who boarded the plane. The glimmer in his eyes is intense. The lines on his forehead pull together as if he’s closing a deal. Only … I’m the deal this time.
The plane descends from the sky and lands smoothly onto the runway. I grip the armrests and hold tight until we come to a crawl. The roar of the engines blocks any opportunity to chat, and I’m grateful for that. It’ll end the conversation organically.
The plane comes to a standstill, and the lights flicker on. Passengers stand and gather their things. But Tate? He remains sitting and facing me.
“I really want to see you again, Kelly.”
My stomach flutters. His determination is sexy, and being the object of his attention is heady. If this were another time and place … But it’s not.
I drag my eyes across his stubbled jaw, over those kissable lips, and along the length of his body.
“I don’t have time,” I say although that’s not entirely true. “I have dinner plans tonight, work all day tomorrow, and then I’m back on a flight home. Thank you, though. You’re good for my ego.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment. Then he stands and lifts his bag off the floor before turning to me. “Until we meet again, Miss Kapowski.”
He flashes me one final cocky smile that I feel in my core before disappearing into the throng of people shuffling off the plane. I watch him as he goes, both elated at the attention and frustrated all the same.
Turning down what might be the hottest man I’ve ever seen in the flesh while living in a state of sexual deprivation deserves a gold medal.
“I really want to see you again, Kelly.”
I giggle, shoving my book in my bag.
At least I still got it. Or, at least, Kelly does.
Chapter Three
Tate
I close my computer and pick up my ringing phone, glancing at the screen before I say hello.
“Hey, Gannon,” I say, standing.
“I just returned to the office from a meeting with McCabe.”
I snort, stretching my arms overhead.
“Don’t start your shit,” Gannon says.
“Then don’t start a conversation by painting a picture of you in a hockey facility. I can’t help that’s fucking hilarious.”
“You are so easily amused.”
I chuckle and move to the windows overlooking the city. Although I won’t admit it openly to him, Gannon is right. When it comes to this issue, it’s time to be serious.
The Tennessee Raptors hockey team is the biggest thorn in my family’s professional side. It was Dad’s baby. Despite adding to the Brewer portfolio, taking on other projects and teams, and having kids, the Raptors were his greatest love. Naturally, when he went to prison a few years ago, and we had to sort through the mess he left behind, the Raptors were a full-blown disaster. None of us wanted to take it on, so we left it for last.
“McCabe gave me his two weeks’ notice,” Gannon says, dropping the news onto my lap like a barbell.
“What? You’re kidding me.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Someone in his family, maybe a parent, is sick, possibly with cancer.”
I shake my head, admiring my abs in the reflection. This would make a good selfie. “How do you not pay attention when someone shares such personal news with you?”
“Because I don’t care what’s happening in his personal life.” He sighs. “But I do care that the Raptors are without a marketing director. Again.”
“How far was McCabe on the rebrand?”
“The last full update was two weeks ago. He has a great plan and a hundred balls in the air, but I don’t know who will catch them now. I’d just as soon sell the team instead of dealing with it. But no one will buy it for a reasonable price in this state.”
I gaze across the city and mull over the situation. It would take a lot of stress off Gannon’s plate as the president of Brewer Group, the umbrella company that owns the Raptors, to have it sorted. I want that for him. He deserves to be able to go home at night to his fantastic wife and beautiful baby girl.
We all deserve to put this last piece of Dad’s legacy to bed. Once and for all.
But the hockey team needs a thorough refresh—spun in a complete one-eighty. It has to be completely detached from its current reputation with a new logo, mascot, and a whole new vibe. We have to make it an active participant in the community instead of a talking point whenever the word scandal is brought up in conversation.