Hillary shut Murphy's door and made her way quickly to the elevator. This floor was all players and a couple of the trainers. She was on a different floor with all the coaches and other members of the organization that traveled with the team.
The buzz of anxiety shot through her as she reached the elevator and pushed the call button. She had a reason to come here. She had to return Murphy's jacket, she reminded herself.
She looked up as the numbers climbed, showing the elevator coming up to the floor. There was only one floor left when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Hillary?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to see Sasha making her way to the elevator. "What are you doing on the players' floor?" she asked.
Hillary stuttered before words started spewing out of her mouth, "Oh, well, it was cold earlier, and Murphy gave me his jacket. I don't know why he did it. He's just that kind of guy . . . ya know, the type to give you the shirt off his back. Well, nothis shirt, but his jacket. Anyway, I was just returning it. Now I'm going to bed. That's it. What about you? Why are you here?"
Sasha cocked her head, taking her in with a curious expression. "I just ordered some room service with Conner while I scheduled tomorrow's posts," she said, still giving Hillary a tentative look.
"Didn’t you hire someone to do those things for you?" Hillary asked.
Sasha hummed as the elevator doors slid open. "I did, but I'm just having trouble turning stuff over."
"You should work on that," Hillary said as they stepped into the elevator, glad for the subject change.
"Hello pot, this is kettle," Sasha joked.
“What? I let people do their job,” Hillary protested.
“Yes. After they have proven themselves. And even then, you are very . . . ummm hands on, shall we say.”
Hillary felt the glare covering her face as they got on the elevator.
Sasha put her hands in the air. “You’re a great boss. I’m just saying you should understand I’m having trouble turning over the reins.”
Hillary took a deep sigh. She did understand that.
"And you hired a team to help enable your vision. You should use them."
"Have you been talking to Conner?"
Hillary chuckled. "No, but I gathered he's encouraging you to turn over the reins a little, too?"
"He is. And I will, I was just so used to doing everything on my own when I was an influencer."
"Well, we’re a team here, in more ways than one."
Sasha nodded. "I know, you’re right."
Her phone dinged in her pocket as she took it out. "Wow, it's already midnight. That's a little late to be taking Murphy his jacket back."
"Oh, this is me," Hillary said as she came to her door. "Goodnight, Sasha. I'll see you tomorrow. Remember to utilize your team," she said quickly as she slid her key card into the door.
Before Sasha could say anything else, she slid into her room and shut the door behind her. She thought she had been in the clear after Sasha didn't ask any questions about her rambling answer as to why she'd been on the player's floor, but of course, Sasha had picked up on it.
When Murphy brought up the idea of being in a committed relationship at the moment, she had almost considered it. There was something about him that felt comforting, which is probably why she'd been a blubbering idiot in his room, but there was no way they could be in a relationship. What would they even have in common?
Sasha and Conner, they made sense. Sasha was a glamorous former influencer, and Conner was a steady, confident man. Murphy was . . . Well, just thinking about him brought a smile to her face, which she quickly pushed away. Murphy was golden. He deserved an equally golden life. He deserved a doting partner with lots of golden children. He’d be a great father.
Hillary, on the other hand, was a prickly perfectionist. It served her well in her role of head of PR. She managed to make players behave and keep a positive spin on the organization. What could she possibly have in common with a golden retriever on ice ten years younger than her?
She needed to put a stop to it. She would put a stop to it. Yet as she settled into bed, his smile was the last thought she had.
The next morning, she woke up to her phone ringing. Sasha's contact lit up her screen.
