“It’s not too early to treat myself with a glass of champagne, is it?” He’d called Janice as soon as he’d gotten home. After that odd exchange outside Armi’s office, he’d spent over an hour in HR getting his paperwork filled out, and he was tired. But exuberant. “I got the job.”
“No shit? He hired you on the spot? Must be those pretty eyes of yours. Bastard,” she swore. “It’s not fair that you have longer lashes than I do.”
“Very funny.” Hayden decided if he could tell anyone about their odd connection, it would be Janice. Not like she and Armand Winters would cross paths. “But there is something I have to tell you.”
“I’m hearing a story,” she singsonged. “Spill it.”
“I’ve met Armand Winters before.” He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, remembering those needy, broken sounds from Armi when he’d sucked him off. “Remember you told me to go out and enjoy myself after Boris let me go?”
“Don’t tell me…” She cackled with glee.
“Well, I don’t kiss and tell, but let’s just say, it was an enjoyable night. For both of us.”
“And now you’re his PA. How deliciously convenient.”
Hayden pulled himself out of the fantasy of fucking Armi on his desk. “No. I mean, yes, I’m his PA now, but no, the two of us are not going to be taking it any further. I told you, I don’t sleep with my bosses.”
He might not ever get the chance to be naked with Armi again, but that didn’t mean he liked seeing Russell Anders touching him. Whitmore was a bully and a blowhard, and Hayden had dealt with plenty like him. Anders was another story. Something was going on there, but he didn’t know what. Yet. But Armi was vulnerable and sweet, and Hayden refused to allow anyone to take advantage of him.
“Your bosses have all been married and or straight, and Boris was seventy-five. I doubt his wrinkled ass would appeal.”
“Come on, Janice. You know that’s not me.”
Her sigh was one for the martyrs. “Yeah, I know. But a girl can dream, right? I mean, I’ve seen pictures of Armand Winters. A little bit of a nebbish, but a cutie. I’m surprised he was at the same club as you.”
Stung, he sniped at her, “Why, because I’m not good enough?” He already knew Armi Winters was way,wayout of his league, but it sure as hell didn’t feel good hearing it from Janice.
“No, dummy. Because he seems quiet and shy. Not the kind to hang out looking for a hookup, which I know is where you found him. He seems more the piano bar and theater type.”
His hackles lowered. She had a point. “Well, yeah. I see that too. I guess he felt like letting go for a night. Seeing how the other half lived.” Hayden could write him a book.The conversation had dulled his thrill over his new position. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know how it turned out. Your firm will get its fee, and I have things to learn about football in general and the Brooklyn Kings in particular. Bye.”
Before she could squawk her displeasure, he ended the call, and with a glass of champagne in hand, picked up his laptop and googled everything he could find on the Kings.
One hour and two rolls of sushi later, he took a break and stretched out on the sofa. No wonder Armi was a nervous wreck taking over. There were so many rules to learn and complications with agents and players and the unions, it was impossible to learn the inner workings of an NFL team in a week, a month, or even a year. Armi may have grown up in the world of the Kings, but Hayden wondered how much he truly understood.
He logged in to the Kings’ network and accessed Armi’s calendar, which to his shock was completely empty. He scrolled and scrolled through to the end of the year, and there wasn’t a single entry. “That’s impossible. He must have meetings, appointments, dinners. This makes no sense at all.”
On a hunch, he looked at the schedules of Russell Anders, Jacob Whitmore, and Troy Geiger and saw their days were filled. “Why isn’t Armi invited to any of these meetings?” Seething, he searched the directory for Russell’s personal assistant and called her.
“Russell Anders’s office. How may I help you?”
He winced at the perkiness.
“My name’s Hayden Porter. I was hired today by Armand Winters as his personal assistant.”
“I heard.” Her voice was tinged with amusement. “You put that snob Jacob Whitmore in his place. Wish I’d seen it.”
At this moment, he didn’t have time to gossip. That could—and would—come later. “I’m looking at Mr. Winters’s calendar, and it’s totally blank. When I checked Mr. Anders’s and Mr. Whitmore’s, I see they’re full.”
“Well, Armand isn’t always invited to every meeting. He’s the owner but not necessarily the one who makes the best decisions.”
Listening to her brush off Armi’s position, he bristled. “Mr. Winters is the owner. He should be invited and given the opportunity to decide whether to attend or not.” He scrolled back several weeks. “I don’t see anything on his calendar to indicate that he was even asked to participate.”
“You said your name is Hayden?” Her tone had turned decidedly frosty. “That’s not how it works. Armand isn’t like his father. He doesn’t know anything about the game, the players, nothing about running the Kings. Armand should leave it up to the people who know what they’re doing. Now, you’ll have to excuse me.”
The phone went dead, and Hayden wondered what he was getting himself into. He remembered seeing Armi almost in tears at the bar from the dickhead who’d gotten a drink spilled on him. Now he understood why. Like when Whitmore got in Armi’s face and he’d reacted, Hayden’s protective instinct burst free.
“Not anymore. Not on my watch.”
