But if we did this, I’d get everything I’d ever wanted. And I’d ruin my entire life in the process.
My gut churned as I laced my fingers together at the back of my neck. Two options, but the outcomes, they weren’t so different.
I didn’t recognize my voice as I said to Jakobi, “She’s on board.”
He cleared his throat. “Then you told her everything.”
The city nearly glittered in this light. The Charles River snaked off into the distance like a deep blue artery. The lush green of new growth filled the trees and even the long strings of brownstones seemed sun-warmed and stately today.
I’d resented this city for so long. Resented Boston’s position in the draft the year I turned pro. Resented that I was here, so close to home it was like I’d never fucking left, when I could’ve had the thousands of miles of distance that I required to take a deep breath without feeling every old ache and never-healed wound.
But in this moment right now, there was nowhere in the world I’d rather be.
I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t meet Jakobi’s eyes. “Not quite.”
The tension headache that had haunted me since leaving Emme and her wide, hazel eyes at her door last night clanged around the base of my skull.
He huffed out a laugh. “What happened to the plan?”
The plan went up in flames the minute I saw her. It turned to ash when I touched her. And now, with our calendars organized like this was some kind of group project, there was a blacked-out burn hole in my memory where the plan should’ve been.
“Called an audible,” I said, still chasing my gaze down Huntington Street.
“Care to fill me in, or do you intend to be a cryptic motherfucker all day?”
I shoved my hands in my pockets and ignored the question. “She has some requirements.”
“Consider them met.”
I turned away from the window and stalked to the table. Hands braced on the chair in front of me, I said, “Bold of you to assume you’ll be able to get this done without finding out what she wants first.”
He motioned to the belly of the office behind him and the nonstop hustle of associates, coordinators, and assistants as they managed the biggest names in sports. All under his command. “I always get it done.”
“If that were true, the Wallace deal would’ve been closed months ago and I wouldn’t be turning my life upside down to hold it together.”
“If you had smiled for the cameras even once while you were dating Poppy Hemphill, the world wouldn’t think you’re as cold and arrogant as you look, and I wouldn’t need the entirety of Stella Allesandro’s public relations team to make nice after you.”
The problem with partnering Jakobi on this franchise deal—hell, on anything—was that neither of us knew how to lose. We didn’t know how to back down. We lived with the singular goal of plowing our opponents into the turf so hard they limped away with yard markings staining their faces. The number of times we’d holed up in this conference room and fought each other over every last stupid thing was greater than I cared to admit.
It was a damn good thing that, for the brief time our pro careers overlapped, we played for the same team. And that was why, despite the verbal beatdowns, he was among the best people in all of pro sports. Jakobi Jones was the only one I trusted enough to go after these soccer clubs with me. He was a stubborn son of a bitch and my closest friend.
With a grunt that had more to do with overworking my hip this morning than the tension between us, I took a seat at thetable. Jakobi ran a mahogany hand down the length of his silk tie and arched a dark brow, silently screaming at me to get the fuck on with business.
“I need to attend a friend’s wedding with her. With Emme,” I amended. She had a name, and soon everyone would know it. “And a few other parties over the next few months. I don’t care what we have to reschedule to make it happen. It’s important that I’m there.”
It was also important that I find an opportunity to push Emme’s ex down a flight of stairs.
Jakobi pulled a silver pen from inside the breast of his suit jacket and made a note on his pad. “Do you have these dates or will I be assigning someone to dig this information up?”
“Yeah, I’ll forward them to you. Marcie might’ve already sent them.”
My assistant made her own schedule and I didn’t ask questions because she was fantastic and, on the rare occasion that I did mention her middle-of-the-night emails, she’d say something like “The menopause wakes me up at three thirty, there’s no helping it.”
He ran a broad palm over his bald head. “Excellent. What else?”
“There’s a sister. Stepsister. She needs a summer job.”
He nodded toward the bullpen. “I can always use another intern.”
