Hard & Deep: A Football Romance

“Get out.” John slammed his hands on the table, spilling his drink all over the dark wood.

“Gladly,” Mr. Hayes replied. “The deal still stands, John. If you try to change it, I will come after you with the full force of the law. You know I can.”

“I said, get out,” John repeated.

Mr. Hayes took Tracy's arm and escorted her out of the building. She was glad he had a good grip on her, even if it was too tight. Her head was spinning and lights were flashing in random places through her vision.

The cool night air hit her face and kept the growing nausea at bay, but she knew she needed to go lay down and sleep or her head was going to explode. She'd never had this happen before, and if she hadn't been in so much pain, she would have been worried. As it was, she could barely concentrate on standing.

“Can we go home?” she asked, leaning heavily against Mr. Hayes.

“Of course,” he promised her. “You were right. This wasn't such a good idea.”

Chapter 17

A thundering crash echoed through the empty kitchen when a towering stack of brand-new, stainless-steel sauce pans toppled over.

"Damn it," Tracy mumbled, just in time to step out of harm’s way.

The stack of cookware, worth thousands of dollars, hit the red tile floor so hard that pans flew in every direction.

By the time the last pan stopped clattering and dancing, Tracy could feel a rising tide of frustration in the pit of her stomach. There wasn’t much time left before the restaurant – her restaurant – was set to open, and it felt like absolutely nothing had been done. The kitchen needed to be set up, the employees still needed to be finalized, the design crew still had to finish work on the dining room. And what made Tracy more nervous than anything was her appointment with her new head chef: Gordon Baxter.

An esteemed chef with dozens of prestigious awards under his apron, Gordon had only agreed to work for Tracy for a salary that ate up much of the restaurant’s start-up budget. If she couldn’t get a constant stream of people coming in the door, there was no way she could afford to keep him on the payroll.

Of course, Tracy knew that her lover, self-made billionaire Paul Hayes, wouldn’t even bat an eye at forking over hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep her afloat. He had done exactly that, paying off all her bills just for a chance at being with her. But, as their relationship started to grow, she found herself less and less interested in what his money could do for her. Having all of those bills off her back was the most liberating thing she’d ever experienced. In the back of her head, however, there was always a nagging feeling of guilt. She ran her fingers through her long, loose hair and leaned back against the shining stainless freezer door., then she let herself slide to the floor.

"What did I even do to deserve all this?"

After kicking away a stray pan – though most of them were stray at that moment – Tracy closed her eyes and clenched her hair in her hands. Pulling it tight helped to quell the thundering migraine that had been lingering behind her right eyebrow for days.

Worse yet, her dream-world visions hadn’t happened in almost a month.

She let go of her hair and began to massage her temples with her thumbs. There was so much stress in her life, so much to deal with all at once. Surely that had to be the cause, because the alternative made Tracy literally feel ill. To have that kind of power, to be able to see people's dreams, and then have it ripped away was the cruelest sort of joke.

On the other hand, it was one less responsibility she had to put up with.

From the back, a loud clanking of a different sort made Tracy open her eyes and look up. Someone was knocking.

The knocking repeated.

"Hello?"

It was Mr. Hayes, his voice heavily muffled by the heavy back door. Tracy forced herself upright.

"I’m coming! One second."

She dragged her feet around the corner and threw all of her weight against the door, which popped open with yet another clatter. Waiting on the other side with a bottle of wine, and a smile from ear to ear, Mr. Hayes held his arms out for a hug.

Outside, the clear sky had turned into a silky shade of deep navy blue. It had been almost noon when Tracy arrived, so the darkness that had fallen caught her a little off guard.

"Hey there." He tried to meet her distant gaze. "How’s it going?"

Tracy blinked slowly and looked to her right, where the remnants of the saucepan avalanche were still plainly visible.

"It’s going."

Mr. Hayes let his arms drop and walked in. He peered around the corner for a moment, then turned back to her with a look of concern painted across his face.