Her eyes drag over me—slow, assessing—not in admiration. In evaluation.
I can’t tell if she’s sizing me up or stripping me for parts.
“Nice to meet you, Presley.” I nod, but she continues to glare at me.
“Hmm.”
That’s it.
No smile. No handshake. No attempt at warmth.
Her attention drops back to her tablet, as if I’ve already been categorized and filed away.
James clears his throat like he’s trying to smooth the moment over. “Presley runs a tight ship.”
Yeah.Tightis one word for it. What the fuck is her deal?
“And this one here with her nose stuck in the books is my youngest daughter, Aliette. She’s the mastermind behind the finances. Alie is our director of football administration—or salary cap manager, if you will.” He chuckles.
When Aliette finally looks up, I nearly fall over. It’s her. My Alie. The woman I’ve been thinking about for two fucking years. The woman who walked out on me without an explanation or any trace.
All these years, I tried to get information about her. Looked up every Allison, Alessandra, Alice, Alissa, Alexa … and here she is. Aliette.
I tried to get her number from Aaron, even came to New York and met up with him, but he told me she wasn’t interested and eventually stopped replying to my texts. Asshole.
Alie stands. “Mr. Pitz, welcome to New York.” There’s a slight hitch to her voice.
So … I guess she’s pretending not to know me. Awesome.
I hold my gaze on her, willing her to look me in the eye. “Please call me Liam.” Christ, I sound like I’m going throughpuberty. She does look at me then, just briefly. Long enough to acknowledge I spoke. Long enough to make my pulse misfire.
She gives me a closed-mouth smile and takes her seat.
Her expression mirrors Presley’s in structure. Composed and unreadable. But the energy is different.
Where Presley makes no effort to hide her disdain, lets it sit openly in her stare like a warning sign, Alie keeps hers tucked away. Controlled. Contained. Guarded.
Like she’s protecting something. Or someone.
Her fingers lace together in her lap. Her shoulders square. Calm. Professional.
But her eyes flicker once—quick, almost imperceptible—like she’s measuring how much of herself she’s willing to give away.
Presley looks at me like she’s already made a judgment.
Alie looks at me like she’s afraid she might.
And somehow, that’s worse.
The rest of the introductions around the table are made as I’m led to my seat next to Scott at the other end of the table. I can’t tell you who any of these people are because my head is spinning.
My Alie is Aliette Grant. Essentially, she’s one of my new bosses. I knew there were family members involved in the organization, but funny enough, I’ve never seen pictures of Alie or her sister in the press. There must be a reason for that, although I never looked into the family in depth. Most of the information I got about the Grants and the Titans was from my agent. He failed to mention the daughters’ roles in the company though.
There’s no way I’m gonna let her get out of telling me why she ran off on me two years ago. I just need to get her alone.
I lean toward Scott. “You didn’t tell me his daughters were on the staff.”
“Don’t even think about it, Pitz,” he grits out with a smile.
