Page 19 of Her New Billionaire Bosshole

I thought Sophie and Athens were at each other’s throats, but here Sophie is, staying after hours with her. Talking through the injury. Spending her time mentoring Athens — whorespectsher, even though she’s mad. Even with her behavior.

Sophie is endlessly gentle, forgiving — with everyone except me, apparently — even Athens.

As I climb into my SUV, throwing my bag on the passenger seat, I reconsider what I know about her. Dallas native. Soccer star, won’t kick the ball. Here late with that player.

Maybe all that defensiveness, the stubborn attitude I’d assumed was about her being unwilling to move forward, is actually loyalty to those players. She sees it as me against her — me against her and the team.

I start the SUV, pull out, find the highway again, which is practically empty now that rush hour has passed. The sun has long set, and bugs flit around the lights I drive under.

When my phone rings out through the system again, I think it’s Skylar and answer on the first ring.

“Elliot.”

Biting my tongue, I glance over at the screen, which reads,Dad.

Fuck.I mouth the word, but don’t say it out loud. He’s the last person I want to talk right now. And I know why he’s calling.

“Dad.”

“When were you going to tell me that you went out and wasted millions of dollars?”

I bite back the response I want to throw his way —I didn’t get the memo about you being my new accountant— and instead go with a shrugging, “It’s just a fun investment, Dad.”

“Fun?” he asks, like I’ve just told him I’m going to get a root canal without numbing cream. “Your mother tells me you’ve been in Dallas for nearly two weeks now. How is thatfun?”

I miss my exit and bite back the profanity in my throat. If he hears how much I hate the traffic here, he’s just going to feel even more vindicated.

For a moment, I search for the words to explain this to him. At first, this was all about Clark — going against him. Getting the team and beating his, just to shut him up for once.

But now, after seeing Sophie and Athens out there on the field together, it’s starting to feel different. I try to think of a way to explain that to him, to detail what it felt like in the stands, to see Sophie coach and sense that gentle leeching of her enthusiasm under your skin.

Except the words aren’t there, and my father is already filling the silence, as though we’re radio hosts and can’t possibly leave any dead air between us.

“You know, Clark is right about a lot of things, but he’s not right about this. Men or women’s, I don’t care, sports are a gamble. An expensive toy thinly veiled as a business endeavor. And I really thought you were above that, Elliot.”

“The team was cheap, Dad.” Comparatively, of course. “It’s just a little… project of mine.”

Even as I say the words, I know it’s not true. A little project would not have me missing meetings, spending all my time away from New York.

To push the feeling away, I keep talking, “And, you know what, Dad? It would be great to have you and Mom down for a game. It’s just like Wimbledon.”

That, at least, makes him laugh.

“Yeah,” he says, and I can picture him shaking his head as his words drip with sarcasm. “I’m sure it is.”

CHAPTER 10

SOPHIE

I’ve always hated airports.

Away games are a big part of being an athlete, but I’m partial to the bus. Taking the bus feels like keeping my feet on the ground, and I like that it’s just the team and the driver. Flying is more chaotic, harder to keep track of everyone. Even the team manager prefers hiring a bus to figuring out the tickets and booking everyone through an airline.

The team sits around me at our gate, talking, laughing, as I stew in my seat. They don’t care about flying — in fact, most of them would prefer it — but I can’t stop the itch of frustration under my throat.

I’m clearly not a part of the decision-making process anymore. Yesterday, when I emailed the team manager to ask for times to pass along to the players, she told me the chartered bus had been canceled — Elliot Altman wanted his team to fly.

As though just thinking his name can summon him, he appears on the outskirts of the seats, and I stand right away, grabbing my duffel and trying to slip out before he sees me.