Page 15 of Her New Billionaire Bosshole

“I’m sorry,” Sophie laughs, putting her palms flat against the table and leaning into make eye contact with Randall. “Are you implying that the players would wear the makeupduringgames?”

“Well…” Randall pauses, glancing at his assistant for reassurance, then back to the coach, “yes. Just like how sports drinks sponsors expect the players to drink the product. It’s just a way to show that the players actually back the line. Our formulas are all very durable and waterproof, smudge proof, you name it. It’s part of what makes it so great for athletes. We even have a contract with an Olympic swimmer, which will show?—”

“Absolutelynot,” Sophie is already pushing out of her chair, shaking her head, laughing. “Are you… Is this a joke? You can’t be serious?”

Reese Randall is silent, his fingers folded together on the table. He looks to me, eyebrows raised in shock and question.

“Maybe I’ve misunderstood something here,” he says, carefully, eyes flicking between me and Sophie. “I thought the Bolts were ready for sponsorships, but it seems?—”

“Wearetaking on sponsorships.” I lean forward, putting on my most charming voice. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite Sophie along to this — I should have known she was going to strike down any advertiser I brought into this room.

Smiling warmly at Reese, I go on, “And I think you’ll find that with my involvement, this is the prime time to strike. Every company is going to want their products advertised with us, Randall. Coach here just isn’t on the business side of things. You understand how it is — she’s just thinking about the game. She just doesn’t?—”

“If you don’t understand why this is a horrible idea,” Sophie says, cutting me off and popping her hip out, her eyes blazing with fury, “I don’t know how to explain it to you. Wearingmakeup to the games? Wouldyouwant to do that when you’d be sweating? Running around?”

“The waterproof formulas—” Randall starts again, like if she could just understand this one point, she might change her mind. Sophie lets out a growl. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I might be impressed with how she stands her ground.

“Let’s just take a break,” I say, holding my hands up and looking to Randall. “Sorry about this, it seems the coach and I need to get on the same pagehere.” I shoot her a look that saysI won the bet,but she shoots me one back that saysI don’t give a flying fuck in space.

“You know what?” Randall is standing from his chair, making a hand gesture to his assistant. “Maybe right now isn’t the best time. Let’s have our assistants schedule us for another meeting, another time. I’d love for this to work out, but I can see that there are some…” He darts a glance in Sophie’s direction, “holdups. On your end.”

“Randall,” I start, but Sophie is pushing through the doors on the other end of the room, and I’m torn between following him or following her.

Instantly, my dad’s voice is in my head:Always follow the money.

Never, in all my time making deals, have I chased someone out of a meeting, and I’m not about to start now. So I let Randall and his assistant go. Instead, I turn toward the person I actuallydowant to follow.

Coach Sophie Kendall, already halfway back to her office, having completely ruined my deal. And I’m not about to let her off that easily for it.

CHAPTER 8

SOPHIE

Elliot catches up to me just as I’m slipping into my office.

He steps in after me, and I force myself to act normal, to move to my desk, stand behind it. Put an object between the two of us, though I can smell his spicy cologne, already filling my office and banishing the damp smell of the old air conditioner.

“What the hell wasthat?” he asks, voice low, eyes narrowed on me. I probably should be intimidated — Elliot Altman looks like the kind of man who can normally wear someone down with a single look. But I’m still too pissed off from that meeting to let him get to me.

“That’s a great question,” I fire back, still shaking with surprise and anger from what that man — Randall — said to me. I pin Elliot with a glare and try to give him a taste ofexactlywhat it’s like to be one of my players, on the field, under my command. “I suggest you ask yourself that question.”

“What are you talking about?” Elliot throws his hands up, considers, then turns and starts stalking back and forth acrossmy office. “I’m not sure if you realize this, Coach, but your facility isn’t just outdated — it’s in a state of disrepair. Are you aware that the landscaper has been battling gophers on the practice field?”

Yes, and I believe him to be a capable general in that war.

I open my mouth to respond, but Elliot is on a roll now, and he’s not going to let up. He continues to pace, ticking the problems off on his fingers.

“Mold in the showers,” he says, turning on his heel and turning around. “The ice baths have been broken formonths.”

Nobody wanted to use them anyway — it was always like pulling teeth to get the players in. Broken ice baths is just one less thing for Molly to argue with them about.

As though reading my thoughts, Elliot says, “And again, only one trainer for an entire team of girls.”

“Women,” I correct, then add, “What’s the point in telling me all this?”

I cross my arms over my chest, thankful my desk is between us when he turns and looks at me incredulously.

“What’s the point?” He laughs, gesturing to the door. “Thepointis that you’re in no position to be turning down sponsorships for this team! The last new sponsor is from 2006, Sophie. And they?—”