SALVATORE
Ismile at the sight of Keeley comfortable on my couch, her posture casual, her legs crossed at the ankles, a lightness to her expression.
Like she belongs there.
Maybe because she does.
I once told her this office was big enough for the two of us, and I meant it. I wouldn’t hesitate to move her into my space. Any time. It would mean I wouldn’t have to call her in here so often.
She adjusts her position as I join her inside, curling her feet up underneath herself, while I reveal the reason she arrived before I did. “I came prepared with more chocolate. Do you want some?”
“Always.” She beams up at me, but her tired eyes give away the toll today has taken on her. On everyone. “I hate to ask…” She hesitates for a beat, her eyes flashing to the chocolate in my hand. “Should we order dinner first?”
“What?” I fake shock. “I’ve been told there’s nothing wrong with chocolate for dinner.” I wink. “But yes, we should ordersomething more substantial. What do you feel like?” I stew over the question myself, knowing she’s about to throw it back to me, like anyone I’ve ever asked that question to. We’ll undoubtedly go through that “I don’t mind” bullshit. It always?—
“Pizza?”
“What?” My eyes bulge as I stare at her, stunned.
“Pizza. Is that a problem?”
“No. Not at all. Pizza is good.”Has anyone ever actually made a decision about dinner that quickly?
“Good. You get it from Riccardo’s, right?”
“Riccardo’s? No. I haven’t?—”
“Oh my God.” Her eyes flit shut and she moans in ecstasy, biting down on her bottom lip.
And for the first time in her presence, my cock twitches.
What the fuck is that about?
Keeley continues on, none the wiser, and I smile, hiding my panic when she opens her eyes. “You have to try their pizza,” she gushes. “It’s honestly the best around. You won’t be able to beat it.”
Her words pull me out of my thoughts and I almost laugh.Is she seriously telling a New Yorker that San Francisco has the best pizza?
I stare at her for a beat, a brow raised in challenge until she throws her head back with a laugh. “I’d go as far as to say it will rival your favorite in New York.”
It’s like she read my mind.
“We’ll see.”
Keeley’s laughter subdues as she grabs her phone, bringing up the menu before passing it over so I can give her my order. When we’re done, she runs through her concerns for Zane while we wait, her switch into work mode helping my little problem. Which I’m hoping remains just that—a little problem. The last thing we need is for it to become…bigger.
“I need a statement ready for when the news breaks,” Keeley tells me. “While I’m usually a pro at statements, I don’t know how to tackle this one. The world knows Landon attacked Reed and Hayley, and that Zane came to their defense. That’s old news. They’ve moved on. However, when they find out Landon didn’t survive, they’ll circle like vultures, focusing on how Zane’s act of protection resulted in his teammate dying, despite it being self-defense. They’re going to be divided and they’re going to be loud about it.”
“You’re right and because of that, this one needs to come from me. Itshouldcome from me. I know you’re going to argue but I need to be the face of this. It’s my job to protect my team.”
“Some fans will hate you.”
“Let them. I’m prepared to put in the work to rebuild their trust.”
Keeley sighs, briefly massaging her temples, and I imagine myself taking over until she continues speaking. “I didn’t agree to let you help so that you’d take it all on.”
“I know.” I nod, shaking off my thoughts.
“But you’re going to do it anyway?” She glances up at me, her expression knowing.
