“I, uh, sorry,” I muttered, my throat tight in a way that had nothing to do with stupid headlines.
“So youareapologizing,” she teased, then flashed a wink before going back to her car.
I stood there for a long second, stunned, watching her go. The tension lingered, unsaid words hovering between us. I shook my head, pulling myself back to reality.
“Hunter! Get your ass in the truck!” Theo called, snapping me out of my trance.
19
Holly
Bob marched beside me, his stride deliberate, as if the entire arena existed only to witness his authority. The whole place smelled like his cheap cologne, forcing me to swallow my gags every few steps.
“You really think letting things spin out with Callahan is a good idea?” he asked, voice sharp but measured, the kind that carried in these empty hallways.
I kept my pace steady, ignoring the tiny prickle along my spine that his presence always seemed to trigger. He was in top form today, looking to goad me at every turn, clearly.
“Spin out? Bob, I’m the one spinning it all back into place,” I said. My voice didn’t waver, but my mind was already moving ten steps ahead, mapping contingencies, running through headlines, preparing the counter-narratives.
He snorted. “Back into place? Holly, you don’t even realize how much traction that headline got before you even started your so-called cleanup. There’s no competition when it comes to a prison daddy. You should’ve realized that by now.”
I let him talk, as I always did, the sound of his droning voice filling the space while my brain zipped past it to the real work.
“I’ll tell you what I realize,” I said finally, keeping my tone light, almost conversational. “I realize that I know exactly what I’m doing, and I’m working for the benefit of The San Antonio Surge as a team, as well as a brand. And that’s a lot more than some of the other people here can say about themselves.”
He braked sharply at the corner, turning to face me. “Keep up that kind of talk, and you’ll–”
“Watch me,” I cut in, stopping long enough for him to process the weight in my words. My hands tightened briefly on the straps of my bag. “I’m handling it. I don’t need you to explain why it’s hard, or dangerous, or ‘what if it blows up’. Consider those bases covered, and let me do what you hired me to do.”
Bob raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed with my defiance even as he tried to mask it. “You think you’ve got it all under control, huh?”
I let a small smirk slip past my professional armor. “I don’t think it, Bob. I know it. Now, unless you have something actionable to discuss, I suggest you let me get on with it.”
He studied me for a long moment, brow furrowed, then shook his head with a resigned sigh. “Fine. You win this round. But I’m not so sure that management will–”
“No.”
He froze mid-stride. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Not a word until I say so. Management will function for a few more hours without an update.”
The hallway felt narrower, as though all the air had conspired to press us together. I let the authority in my tone carry the weight it deserved. He raised both hands slowly, acknowledging defeat for now.
I released the gesture and stepped past him, letting the arena walls swallow me up as I walked toward my office. He muttered under his breath about “learning the hard way,” but I didn’t look back.
Once inside, I finally allowed myself a deep breath, letting the tight coil in my stomach unwind fractionally. My phone buzzed in mypocket, a welcome interruption. I pulled it out to see a new email from an old college friend who’d worked her way up to a senior position at Harper & Keene, a major marketing firm in Chicago.
The subject line alone made me pause:“How attached are you to Texas?”
I felt a small tug in my chest. As much curiosity as it was caution, and I clicked to open it as I shut my office door behind me. The body of the email was professional but inviting: there was an opening that seemed tailored for me, and she emphasized how perfect my experience would be for a new campaign. My thumb hovered over the screen as I considered reading further.
Then the door opened, with me still finding my place at my desk. Hunter stepped in, dressed sharply in a dark suit that fit him perfectly. He was learning.
My phone screen reflected off the polished desk between us, and I realized I had to act fast. I closed the email and slipped the phone back into my pocket, forcing my attention to him.
“Ready to go?” His smile was easy, casual, but it carried just enough of his charm to make me almost forget the tension lingering from earlier this week.
I studied him critically, trying not to smile. “I’m impressed, Callahan. You even managed the tie all by yourself.”
