Lyric and Lingerie (Fort Worth Wranglers 1) - Page 85

“I have a meeting with the bosses.” Heath shot Jacob a warm smile. He wasn’t used to people glaring at him like that—at least, not people who weren’t on an opposing team’s defensive line. He didn’t like it.

“Okay.” But the “okay” sounded an awful lot like “what the hell?” “See you.” He rushed off to wherever groundskeepers go to keep grounds.

“Dude, I didn’t expect to see you here today.” It was Jimmy Salenger, defensive tackle.

“I’m the new OC.” He grinned at his old friend. “The offensive line is coming for you, buddy.”

Jimmy returned the grin. “I welcome the challenge. Bring it. Catch you later.” He checked his watched, stared at Heath, then hunched his shoulders and walked to the bank of elevators.

The ever-efficient Eleanor Sanchez walked out of Dalton’s office and closed the double doors behind her. She was somewhere north of fifty, didn’t take crap from anyone, and guarded the GM’s office and schedule like a rabid pit bull guards a junkyard. No one got access to Dalton Mane without her express permission.

She studied Heath like he was dog shit on the bottom of her shoe. “What are you doing here?”

What was with everyone today? He threw his hands up. “I have a meeting with Dalton.”

Shouldn’t she already know that, since she was the one who’d scheduled it?

“I know.” She crossed her arms and leaned on the corner of her desk. “What are you doing here?”

“Look, I know I was a player, but now I’m a coach, so people,” he pointed to her, “are going to have to get used to seeing me in the office. Hell, I have an office down the hall.”

Who knew making the transition from player to coach would be so difficult?

“I’m aware of that, but I’d still like to know what you’re doing here.” She hadn’t blinked the whole time she’d been looking down her nose at him.

“I have a meeting with Dalton.” Was English coming out of his mouth?

Without taking her eyes off of him, she reached behind her, picked up a remote control, and turned on the giant flat-screen TV mounted on the wall in the waiting area. Of course SportsCenter was on … it always seemed to be on.

Shelby Margate, his least favorite person, was sitting on a brown sofa that looked a lot like the one he’d done his interview with her on. The shot widened and Lyric was sitting next to her. “If there was something you could tell Heath right now, what would it be?”

“I’d tell him that I love him, and if he’s still willing, the wedding is back on. I’ll marry him at 6:00 p.m. just like he’d planned.” Lyric smiled into the camera. “I trust you, I love you, and I’ll be waiting for you, Heath Montgomery. Please, please marry me.”

It took several beats for her words to sink in. But when they did … She wanted to marry him? The wedding was still on? He checked his watch. It was four thirty. His heart dropped to his knees. He’d never make it in time.

He took off for the elevators in a flat-out run.

“Heath.” Eleanor’s voice was sharp. “You need to go up instead of down.”

“What?” He really didn’t have time for her bitchiness.

Her face cracked into a smile that lit up the room. “I’ve taken the liberty of having the Wranglers’ helicopter fueled and readied. Go to the roof and Mike, the pilot, will get you there in time.”

He ran right up to her and kissed her on the lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’d love to meet Dr. Wright someday. Her podcast on supermassive black holes was amazing.” There was so much reverence in her voice that he was sure she was talking about Jesus.

The elevator was taking too long, so he took the stairs three at a time. And sure enough, when he burst onto the roof, the helicopter was sitting there waiting for him. God bless Eleanor.

He climbed on board and fumbled in his pocket for his phone. He didn’t know how long the helicopter ride would take, and he wanted to make sure Lyric knew he was on his way.

Except his phone wasn’t in either of his pants pockets. And it wasn’t in his jacket pocket either. He checked his pockets again. Had he dropped it when he was dashing up the stairs?

No. He wanted to slap his forehead. He’s left it on the coffee table in the waiting room. Damn it. He didn’t have time to go back for it.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

He started to tell the pilot to wait a minute, but he was too late. The helicopter took off with a roar.

Tags: Tracy Wolff Fort Worth Wranglers Romance
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