“Her fucking job.” My voice slowed. “I want to do my fucking job. Don’t assume I know details if you don’t share them with me.”
“Didn’t Reid tell you not to micromanage?”
My jaw clenched. “I’m not having this conversation right now. I have a job to do.” I tried to ignore my trembling hands as I disconnected the call.
Why did everything seem like a fight?
Gathering myself, I returned to the door and opened it wide. I gestured to Ms. Athens to come inside. “I’m sorry for the delay. Security arrangements were made without my input.”
She smiled. “I assume you verified my information?”
“I did.” I motioned to the bedroom. “I have a few more things to do here, and I’m headed to Allegiant Stadium. Um…” I shrugged. “You’re welcome to sit out here.” I looked around. “I’m new to this. How does this work?”
“I was told that you wanted to avoid the press.”
“Very much.”
“I’ll accompany you whenever you’re outside this room and until you leave Las Vegas tomorrow evening. Introduce me any way you want, an assistant, a coworker…I won’t interfere with your job. My job is to keep others away from you.”
Inhaling, I nodded, feeling unexpected relief. “Okay. We’ll make this work.” I feigned a smile. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
“My company has a car ready for you and Mr. Marsh out a side door.”
My thoughts went to my uncle. “Mr. Darin Marsh?”
“Mr. Grant Marsh.” She lowered her eyebrows. “Did I read the instructions wrong? Aren’t you riding together to the stadium.”
“Oh yeah. We are. I’ll hurry.”
Grant was already in the car waiting when Virginia and I arrived. As the door opened, he pointedly looked down at his watch.
“You could have left without me,” I offered.
“We’re fine.”
“Ms. Hubbard, I’m DeQuinta Jackson,” the driver said.
“Nice to meet you.” I settled in the back seat with Grant while Virginia took shotgun.
My phone buzzed in my bag. Pulling it out, I saw a text message from Fin. The team was officially in Las Vegas. Their buses had police escort to the IMEG Training Center. “The team is here,” I said to Grant.
He hummed. “Tilson reach out to you?”
Looking up, I met his gaze. “I have spies everywhere. I thought you knew that.”
“Fuck, Vee,” he growled under his breath. “It seems to me that the fact you’re still involved with a player when the spotlight is on the Coopers shows your lack of commitment to the team.”
My head was about to explode. “You know what shows lack of commitment?” I whispered, trying to keep our conversation from being overheard. “Wanting to leave a day early because it’s Vegas and fun is deserved. It’s only the sixth week of an eighteen-week season. My commitment is to the team. I’m beginning to wonder about others.”
“My parents have worked their asses off for the Coopers, and for what?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know the amount they’ve been paid, but I’ll have the business office get me the figures on Monday. Everyone is well compensated. The rewards aren’t so bad either, like flying to away games, accommodations, travel expenses. You are an important member of our family and executive team, Grant, but you’re not indispensable.”
Turning toward the front seat, I exhaled. My heart rate was thundering in my chest as I moved my head from side to side, trying to relieve the muscle strain. My molars were about to explode from the pressure. This felt like it was a coordinated attack by father and son, and I for one wasn’t going to put up with it.
While my cousin didn’t reply verbally, the way his foot crossed over his knee bobbed and his fingers tapped on the door handle let me know he wasn’t pleased.
That was good.
