Deep breath.
“And that’s why I’m the better woman for the job.”
A moment of weighted silence lingers. My pulse is a frantic drumbeat in my veins. Just as I’m about to say more, Max clears his throat, drawing my attention to his stormy, calculating eyes.
A woman could drown in those eyes if she’s not careful.
Max stands and buttons a single button on his bespoke blazer, then walks around the room, never taking his eyes off of mine as he circles the conference table.
My heartbeat quickens.
“Bold of you to assume you know anything about my childhood, Ms. Hart.”
I get the feeling he’s about to swoop in and destroy me, but beneath the trepidation blooming in my chest, there’s an awareness there, a tickle of anticipation. Something about being stalked by Maxwell Cruz makes me want to run—
But only so he’ll give chase, throw me over his shoulder, and—
Nope.
None of that.
Keeping my eyes on Max as he strides toward me, I push those thoughts away to dissect at a later date. All these years of trying to stay off his radar, and here I am, locked in his crosshairs.
The fact that Ilikethe way he looks at me should send me running.
“I think it’s safe to assume that your original statement stands. Apples to apples, you just don’t measure up. Hart Strategic Management has done well, Ms. Hart, and you shouldbe proud of all you’ve accomplished. But where Emerson Bratt is concerned, his future and the future of his family, his legacy…” Max frowns. “You simply don’t have what it takes to secure the very best for this young man.”
He stops in front of me, nearly toe to toe, so dangerously close that I’m forced to plop back down into my chair. Awareness seeps into every cell of my body as Max towers above me. His presence is a physical weight.
He hasn’t touched me, and yet I feel himeverywhere.
It’salmostdistracting enough to make me forget that he’s about to ruin my chances of winning this fight, slim as they are.
Settling his hands on the back of my chair, Max spins me so I’m facing Emerson at the head of the table. As Max begins listing his many diverse accomplishments within our field, I watch the young footballer fall in love with Maxwell Cruz right before my eyes, and defeat settles over me like a heavy fog.
Max goes over numbers and accolades that would make most people’s heads spin. He name-drops—casually—coaches and team owners I can’t even get to agree to aphone call. While he shares the latest salaries he’s obtained for his clients, the brand deals and collaborations he has in the works, Emerson’s eyes light up—and understandably so.
I focus on keeping my breathing steady as my heart breaks.
The pointed, and no doubtsmuggaze of Apex’s COO is heavy on my skin as we all listen to what an amazingly accomplished company Apex Athletics has become, but Grayson Cross doesn’t matter.
I can’t tear my eyes away from Emerson Bratt.
He’ssold.
Hook. Line. And sinker.
The one client I was counting on to secure in order to save my agency has slipped right through my fingers.
But who am I kidding? It was over before it even started. The second I discovered that Max Cruz was in the running, I should have pulled my horse out of the race.
I can’t compete with numbers like his, and I briefly wonder why I thought for even a second that I had this in the bag. God, all those trips out to Texas to support Emerson and his family, all that wasted time and money…
My chest tightens, threatening to squeeze the oxygen right out of my lungs.
“Let’s be frank,” Max says, his firm tone snapping me out of the haze he’s just put me in. “You have a very narrow window to make money before age or injury rip it all away from you. You might be the best quarterback the league has seen since, well,me, but that doesn’t mean you’re invincible. Far from it, in fact. You’re one mistake away from losing it all.
“You want to maximize your earnings in a minimal amount of time and I can do that. I think everyone in this room knows I can do that. I won’t blow smoke up your ass or pretend to be something that I’m not; my numbers speak for themselves. You want the best, kid. Youdeservethe best.” My chair rocks gently as Max’s fingers dig into the headrest. “The decision is an obvious one.”
