“What happened then?”
I want to stop talking.Usually, I’m closed off and buttoned up.Usually.Around CJ, I seem to come undone.
“That was the year that my mom died.My dad worked a lot, and he wasn’t… he just wasn’t what I needed,” I tell him softly.
“I’m sorry, Olivia,” he says sincerely.
I swallow hard.“The kids need this place, and I feel like I’m failing them.We’re late with the utilities, and they want to take this building from us.I just…what am I going to do?”
He’s silent for a minute before he speaks.“I have an idea.”
I’m not sure if it’s hope or dread that fills me.“Should I be worried?”
“No, seriously.”His grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he reins it in.“Management’s on my back to do something big for PR.Something that screams,Look, CJ’s not a human blooper reel.He cares.”
“Do you?”I ask, folding my arms.
His eyes meet mine, steady.“Yeah.I do.”
For a moment, my chest betrays me with a flutter.I shove it down.“Go on.”
“I pitch a fundraiser,” he says.“For the youth center.”
I blink.“You… what?”
“A charity event.Something public, splashy, good press for me and money for you.Plus, we get to spend more time together.”His grin returns full force now, confident he’s hooked me.“Win-win.”
I study him, looking for the catch.There’s always a catch.“What kind of event?”
“Gala night with the Thunder.”He spreads his hands like it’s obvious.“Fancy clothes, donors, media coverage.People love a redemption story, and I love an open bar.Everybody’s happy.”
The flutter in my chest turns to something heavier.Money.We need it desperately.A fundraiser like that could keep us afloat for months.
But then he adds, too casually.“And I told management I’d bring a date.”
I arch a brow.“Congratulations.I’m sure there are plenty of women lining up?—”
“I told them it was you.”
My jaw nearly drops.“Excuse me?”
“You.Olivia Walker.Director, saint, general of the clipboard army.”His grin is infuriating.“You and me.Going on a date.For the cause.”
I can only stare.“Youwhat?”
“Think about it.”He leans back like this is the easiest thing in the world.“You get donors interested in your center because they can’t resist the story: bad-boy goalie cleaned up by small-town heroine.I get to prove I’m not a complete disaster.The Thunder’s image gets a boost.It’s perfect.”
“It’s manipulative,” I shoot back.
“It’s strategic.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s brilliant.”
I press my fingers to my temple.“You can’t just—this isn’t?—”
“The kids win,” he says softly.
