Billionaire's Second Chance

ild hair out of her eyes.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Son of a bitch!” I yelled as I slapped the paper down on the table and pointed at the headline. “I’m going to fire that bastard for talking to the press!”

Payton picked up the paper and read aloud, “Storm head coach objects to Halas presence at training camp.” She set it down and shrugged, “Why get worked up about it?”

“That asshole works for me!” I shouted. “He doesn’t get to object to what I choose to do!”

“Apparently, he does,” Payton replied matter-of-factly.

“Are you on his side?”

“No, I’m just saying that it doesn’t seem like much of a thing to get worked up over,” she replied.

“Says the woman I found weeping at the foot of the bed yesterday,” I shot back.

“Low blow, Connor,” she said, shooting me a dark look before turning away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Yes, you did,” she interjected. “But I’ll forgive you because you’re not very good at dealing with your feelings.”

“What the—” I objected.

“Listen, if you go out there and make a big scene about this, you’re going to play right into his hands,” she said as she adjusted the sheet and wrapped it around her body toga style. “Why not just let him have this one?”

“Like Pop always said: Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile,” I said. “I have to fight for every inch of what I own, I can’t let this go or the team will lose respect for me.”

“Really?” she asked raising an eyebrow. “Is that what will really happen or just what you think will happen?”

“Lady, I know you’ve been around football for a long time, but the reality is that you don’t know much about actually running a team,” I said. Payton’s face turned to stone as she listened, and then she turned and walked back into the bedroom without saying another word.

I started to follow her, but there was a knock at the door. I opened it and found our breakfast cart waiting on the other side, and by the time I’d had the room server set everything up and signed the check, I turned to find Payton standing in the bedroom door dressed and pulling her suitcase behind her.

“Where are you going?” I asked gesturing to the table and all the food. “I ordered us breakfast!”

“Yeah,” she nodded surveying the table with an unimpressed sweep of her eyes. “Your mansplaining pretty much killed my appetite, but you enjoy.”

“What in the hell?” I shouted as she gathered her bags and headed for the door. “You are impossible, lady!”

“Right back at you, big guy,” she said as she pulled the door open and then slammed it shut behind her without another word.

Chapter Thirty

Payton

Down in the lobby, I asked the concierge to call a cab and asked him to tell the driver I was headed back to the city. Once I was tucked into the taxi, I dialed Val and hoped that she wasn’t out at some wedding party or on a shopping trip.

“Hey, PG, what’s happening?” Val’s playful tone made me tear up as I thought about how much I missed her.

“Not much; what’s up with you?” I asked, trying to mask my feelings by matching her tone.

“Oh girl, don’t bullshit me, something’s going on,” she said in a sassy voice usually reserved for bartenders and pushy, wannabe suitors. “Spill it, PG.”

“Val, this is all headed for disaster,” I said morosely.

“What did Joanna do now?” she asked knowing me all too well.