“Don’t get used to it,” she says, but her voice softens, the edge of amusement slipping through.
Mark claps me on the shoulder as he passes. “Good work, Storm. You’re back on track.” Then he’s gone, barking orders at another assistant.
When it’s just us, I lean closer, dropping my voice. “Guess I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Olivia replies, eyes flicking up to meet mine. “Just try not to end up in another scandal before Sunday.”
“Can’t make promises I can’t keep.”
She rolls her eyes, but the corner of her mouth betrays her. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling for real this time. “But you like impossible.”
She shakes her head and turns away before I can see her reaction, but I catch the faintest laugh under her breath.
And for the first time since that night, it feels like the storm’s finally starting to clear.
Chapter Seven
Olivia
Three days have passed since I’ve seen Carter, but my phone hasn’t gone quiet. GIFs, emojis, and funny texts have been coming in a few times a day. Even now, as I try to finish an email, my screen flashes with another one. He’s thanked me at least five times, and somehow, it feels like he’s inching past the professional barrier I always try to keep between me and the players.
There’s a light tap on my door.
“Come in.”
Mark Davidson, the team’s owner, steps inside. “Hey, Olivia.”
“Hello, Mark. What brings you down from the top floor?”
He smiles, that easy kind of grin that usually means bad news wrapped in flattery. “Carter Storm.” Mark takes the chair across from me.
“Why? He’s getting good press.”
Mark’s smile fades into a frown. “He’s definitely improved his media presence, but for the next month, I’d appreciate it if you shadowed him. The way you coached him through that press conference was pure genius.” He pauses, searching for the right words. “I want you nearby in case there are any… mistakes we can help him steer clear of.”
Shaking my head, I lean back in my chair. “No. It’s one thing to step in when they screw up, it’s another to spend a month shadowing them. I keep professional boundaries for a reason. I don’t want the other players getting the wrong idea.”
Mark stands, smoothing his tie like he’s already decided. “I insist. Good PR is good for business. You know that.”
I draw in a steadying breath. “A month is too long.”
“How about we see how this goes?” Mark winks, then heads for the door.
When it closes behind him, I stare at the handle for a beat, already feeling the weight of what I just agreed to, without actually saying yes.
My phone beeps again, and it’s a picture of a dragon in chains. Shaking my head, I call Carter.
“I knew my constant barrage of messages would weaken you eventually,” says Carter as he answers the call.
Laughing, I say, “This isn’t what you think.”
“It’s not?”
“No. Your boss and mine insists I keep you company for the next little while in case you hit any bumps in the road.”
Carter chuckles. “Trust me, no more strip clubs with the boys. In fact, no more bars with them ever. So there’s no need for you to follow me around.”
