Satisfied 2X

I was exhausted. It was only lunch time and I’d heard nothing but complaints. Not a single compliment. I knew the sympathy comments were only out of obligation. The staff was unhappy. Management was unhappy. And the team was angry. They were like an army ready to fight, and pick up any weapons they could find and hurl them at this office. I didn't feel like I had any allies or anyone who cared what I was going through. The only thing that mattered to them was money. They had made that perfectly clear.

Dylan smiled. “Darlin’, I think you need to come up with a plan fast or you’re going to have a rebellion on your hands.”

I should have cared that he called me darlin’. I should've said something to put him in his place. I was the one in charge, not him. But instead the word made my spine tingle and my thighs warm.

“I’ll figure it out,” I explained.

He leaned back in his chair, adjusting his large frame to the seat. “So, what did you do before you owned an AFA team?” he prodded.

I pressed my lips together. I didn’t know what answer to give him. Whatever I said was going to make me sound like a spoiled rich girl. I was the one who grew up in a million-dollar estate on the Texas hillside. It didn't matter to him that my grandparents raised me, and their life had been lonely for me. I never knew my mother. My father died when I was five. It wasn’t a happy story, regardless of how much money I had.

He didn’t need to know about my irresponsible brother. He didn’t care that I was carrying the family on my shoulders right now.

“I’ve always been interested in the family business,” I lied.

“Really?” he smirked. “So, your grandfather groomed you for this position?”

His questions got under my skin, leaving me feeling rattled and uneasy. But it may have had more to do with his intense stare. The way his eyes made me feel. The heat I could almost feel radiating from his smooth chest. Whatever it was, I was completely shaken.

“My grandfather made sure I was always around the business,” I explained “I don’t want you or any of the other players to worry. You're in good hands. I promise. I take the Warriors very seriously, Dylan. I know this is your career, and I’m going to make sure we have a winning season.”

I don’t know where the sudden movie-esque speech came from. It felt foreign on my lips. As if some other girl had spoken the words, not me, the artist. Not the girl who was forced into a life of football when she would have rather been at an art museum or in a studio creating something beautiful.

“I’m not worried, darlin’. I'm going to be fine wherever I go. But I have loved this team since I was a kid, and I'd hate to see it fall apart. I have Warrior blood. It runs through my veins.”

He rose from his seat and my eyes followed the chiseled lines of his body. God, he was unbelievable. In a dangerous way.

“Me too,” I replied softly. At least that was the truth.

I had to shake the haze.

“Thank you for stopping by, Dylan. I appreciate your input. I’ll have an update for the team soon. I have several meetings this afternoon and the rest of the week. It’s going to take a little time, that’s all.” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince.

He flashed a smile showing his beautiful white teeth. And winked. That tingle between my legs sparked as he walked away.

“Good to know.” He slapped the doorframe as he walked out of my office. “I look forward to hearing from you, Vanessa.”

Seven

Vanessa

I stared at the empty doorway. What just happened?

I wasn’t ready for the emotions that spilled through me from every direction. I was excited. Thrilled a man like Dylan James had flirted with me. At least, it seemed like flirting. I chewed my lip, questioning my judgement. Dylan had done something else though—he reminded me I wasn’t cut out for this. There were a hundred men in the locker room who agreed with him.

No one had faith in me. They didn’t think I was capable of leading the team. And, damn it, I wasn’t.

My headed dropped to the cool surface of the desk. What was I going to do?

&nbs

p; I jumped when I heard Candy clear her throat. She gleefully held up a white paper bag. “I have lunch,” she announced.

I pushed back from the desk and plastered on a smile. “Thank you. I'm starving.”

“No problem.” She placed the paper bag in front of me. I tore into it, hungry for food and a distraction. It was easier to eat than to think about how angry everyone was.

“I passed Dylan James in the lobby. Did you have a meeting?”