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Sacking the Virgin

Page 7

by Ryli Jordan


  I don't really want a financial settlement; what I'd like is to go back and undo all the mistakes that I've made. But that's not possible, and the best I can do at this point is to hope that there is some way we can clear my name a little.

  I'm never going to get my job back with the Kings, of course, but I'm starting to realize that maybe that wasn't the right field for me to be in anyway. I hadn't even lasted a few months before I'd broken one of the cardinal rules, after all…

  “Hey,” Ben says to me just outside the door as we're waiting for the lawyers to call us in.

  I glance around. “I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to speak to one another,” I tell him out the corner of my mouth, even though there's no one around to overhear us.

  “I know,” Ben says. “But I just wanted to wish you good luck and to say that whatever happens in there, you're an amazing and strong woman, and I'm really sorry for all of this.”

  I stare at him for a moment, but before I have the chance to respond, the doors are opening and they're waving us inside.

  Matthew starts the proceedings, telling the Kings' representatives and everyone else that we're suing because I was singled out as a woman; because they are enforcing a clause in my employment agreement that the team members violate on a weekly basis; and because I did not consent to the release of the video. He tells them that we are asking for 20 million dollars in damages.

  I'm floored, to say the least. I never expected him to ask for so much money, and I honestly feel pretty guilty about that. But then again, as Matthew points out, the whole incident has tarnished my reputation and caused me to be unemployable in the field that I studied so hard to work in.

  It's pretty fair, when he puts it that way.

  “Come on, Matt, we all know that's bullshit,” Linda, the Kings' attorney says, rolling her eyes at us.

  “It's extortion, is what it is,” Bruce, Ben's attorney, agrees.

  “Let's look at the facts, shall we?” Linda asks. “Do you think it's any coincidence that Marissa was able to find and hire an attorney so quickly after the scandal hit? She had the whole thing planned from the beginning. She knew that she would be able to sue the team for a tidy sum of money, and so she was the one who initiated sex as a plot to entrap Ben. She knew about the sex tapes that he made, didn't she?”

  There's a shocked silence in the room—I don't think anyone saw that coming. And I feel sick to my stomach.

  “This was my dream job,” I tell them in a hushed whisper.

  Matthew glances sharply at me and catches my wrist. “Marissa, if this is too hard for you to listen silently to, I suggest that you go wait in the hall,” he counsels.

  “But Matthew, they're lying,” I say, tears beginning to fall down my face. I turn pleading eyes on Ben, even though I know there isn't really any reason for him to back me up. In fact, he probably knew about this plan ahead of time. Maybe this was his plan all along: make me sue the team so that he could clear his name and keep playing with the Kings, rather than having his reputation called into question.

  But Ben looks just as angry and upset as I feel, and I can't believe I ever thought that about him.

  “No,” he says, shaking his head as he looks at Linda. “No, that's not the way things happened at all.”

  Another stunned silence, but this time on their side of the table.

  “What do you mean?” Linda asks, her tone sounding clipped with frustration. “Ben, I know you're a real gentleman and live chivalrously, but-” Matthew snorts derisively, and Linda shoots him an evil look. “Ben, don't you realize that this woman is just trying to extort money from you?” she asks. “By admitting this-”

  “No,” Ben says again, more firmly this time, shaking his head as though that will really show her what he believes. “If anything, I was the one egging Marissa on, and it was my suggestion that we video it—not because I wanted the world to see it, but because I wanted to be able to rewatch the video. Because she was so absolutely beautiful, and I didn't think I would ever be able to convince her to have sex with me again.”

  Everyone is beginning to look uncomfortable, and I really wish that I had never agreed with Ben's plan to sue the team. But it wasn't as though I could walk out of there right now.

  “Ben, perhaps you should step out into the hallway,” Linda suggests.

  “Why?” Ben asks, narrowing his eyes at her. “So that you can slander this poor woman's reputation? I'm not going to go along with that. Marissa was the innocent victim of my ego and a team mentality that makes such acts acceptable. That's not right.”

  Linda looks practically apoplectic at that, and Matthew is smiling. I vaguely remember what he had said about videoing this whole thing and realize this is all being caught on tape. There's no way the team is going to be able to take me to court after this.

  I don't want Ben to end up in trouble, but I'm savagely glad that the team isn't going to be able to treat this all so lightly or to act like it was all my fault.

  “Perhaps we should adjourn until you're able to come up with a defense that your client is actually willing to stick by,” Matthew offers generously, and I swear that if looks could kill, Linda would have burst into flames right there in the office.

  Linda nods curtly, though, and their whole side of the table stands up to exit. I want to run after Ben, to ask him what he just did and what that means for him—and why he did that for me, when he's never cared about any of the women that he hurt before. But he's being pretty much frog-marched out of the room—or at least, as much as he can be when he's currently still on crutches—and there's no chance for me to speak to him.

  That makes me inexplicably upset, even though I vowed to never speak to him again. Maybe it's just that his words prior to the meeting got into my head—when he had called me strong and brave and all of that.

  I couldn't go back to that. If nothing else, I wouldn't be able to deal with the publicity scandal, especially not if Ben ended up being traded after today.

  Chapter Sixteen — Ben

  Barry and I sit down across from one another in a little diner down the street from his place. It's my choice—he wants me to stick to my diet even though I'm not training at the moment, but every once in a while, I'm using this as a chance to splurge on things that I don't normally get to do and eat. I tell him that it'll make me better—more driven and focused—once I actually get back to the game. He thinks I'm only making things more difficult for myself in the long run, but I figure that I know myself better than he does.

  With all that in mind, I order the most absurd burger and fries that the place has to offer, with heaps of meat, heaps of grease, and plenty of mayonnaise to go on both. Barry rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything this time, and I wonder if that's his way of prepping me that we have bad news to discuss—it's almost as though he's bribing me to look on the bright side.

  The thing is, I kind of have guessed why we're here. I've been resigned to the fact that I'm likely going to be traded for weeks now. And as much as I love Chicago and as much as the city and the team will always hold a special place in my heart, the more I think about it, the more I come to realize that it really is time for me to move on and find my place elsewhere. The team and I have just gone in different directions lately, and that's nobody's fault. It's time I got back to playing the way that I used to, though. And I'm excited to start that new chapter.

  I only hope that Marissa will agree to be a part of that new chapter, because for all that I've been thinking about my future in football over the past weeks since my injury, I've been thinking about her more.

  I can't get her sweet smile or her sexy curves out of my mind. I can't forget those soft noises she made or how incredible she looked there against my sheets. I don't dare rewatch the video that we made together—it seems almost like an intrusion of her privacy, somehow. I could only hope that we would have the chance to do things again.

  But I would need to win back her trust first.

  “The team.
..isn't pleased with the way that you handled yourself in the attorney's office,” Barry says grimly, skipping the pleasantries.

  I roll my eyes a little. “I already know that,” I tell him. I've known that since before I even opened my mouth: they weren't going to appreciate the things I was about to say. But I hadn't been able to stop myself from telling the truth, not when Marissa was sitting there looking so scared and so upset by their accusations.

  Anyway, I owed her one. She had said herself that it was her dream job, and I had gotten that taken away from her. It was only right that I lose my own dream job as well, I figured.

  “They're going to settle with Marissa,” Barry continues. He grins a little. “Of course, not for the 20 million that they requested, but she'll be pretty well off with 12 million in the bank...”

  I grimace. The Kings can't be happy to have to settle for such a high figure, especially not when they're looking to make some trades at this time of year to improve next year's roster. According to the contract that I have with them, there's no way for them to recoup that loss from me directly...unless they choose to trade me.

  “Don't pussyfoot around it,” I tell Barry, folding my arms and leaning against the table as nonchalantly as I can. “What's going to happen to me?”

  Barry shrugs a little. “They've decided to be nice and give you a choice,” he informs me. “Of course, a number of different teams have shown an interest in you, despite your reputation and the year that you were having—even though you wrecked your ankle in that last game, there's no denying that you were back in your perfect form in that game, and teams are hoping that they can keep you playing that way again.”

  “Which teams?” I ask immediately.

  Barry holds up a hand. “The team wants to discuss all of that with you personally, as well as discuss the terms of the buyout and everything else. I told them that I wouldn't spoil the surprise.”

  I roll my eyes at him. “They didn't tell you any of the details, did they?” I surmise.

  Barry chuckles and holds up both hands. “All right, all right, you caught me. I don't know exactly which teams are interested or anything else. But I wouldn't be too worried. We'll see how things go. For now, you're going to need some time to heal up your ankle anyway, so there's no pressure to commit just yet. I'm guessing they'll be trading you more for draft picks rather than trading you for a different quarterback.”

  I nod almost to myself and take a bite of a fry, chewing thoughtfully. “What happens with you, then?” I ask.

  Barry rolls his eyes. “Well, I can't say it won't be kind of a relief to not be the manager for one of the most reckless players in the league,” he says. He shrugs. “I'm not going to be moving with you, not with my kid in school and my wife in a job that she loves. But I wish you all the best in the future—and I'll gather some contacts for you wherever you end up so that you can find a replacement.”

  “That won't be easy,” I tell him, and it honestly won't be. Barry's been with me for all the years that I've been in the league, since just before my first draft. I can't believe that we'll be parting after all these years. But at the same time, I know that it's time for us.

  It's about time I started taking some responsibility for myself and where I ended up, instead of letting Barry handle everything for me.

  We finish our meal, chatting aimlessly about which teams might be interested in picking me up, and about what sorts of things I should push for in the new contract with whatever team that is—although Barry will at least be there with me as I sign that contract and move on to the next step.

  I know what I have to do now, though. I have to talk to Marissa and see if maybe there's some way that we can mend this thing between us.

  Chapter Seventeen — Marissa

  The last person I expected to see at my doorway was Ben Price. As surprised as I am to see him there, though, I am more surprised to see that the paparazzi aren't there: I expected they would be following him everywhere now that news of his trade was leaked.

  I want to be covering that story so badly, but instead, I only know little snippets of what was happening. It seems that everyone is being kept in the dark until Ben has a smooth transition to wherever his new home will be—so that he can take a little break from the crazy fan girls and everything else that comes along with his fame.

  But everyone knows that Ben is going somewhere, and no one really seems to know what to think of it.

  I open the door, only hesitating for a moment. Because even though Ben is responsible for my losing my job and everything else, I also know that I can't really be upset with him, not when he's proven himself to be pretty selfless as well. It would have been easy for him to throw me under the bus and accuse me of trying to extort money from him and the team. But he didn't do that. Instead, he gave up his own dream and helped me out a little.

  I respect that.

  Anyway, I can't seem to stop thinking about that one night that we had shared together. It doesn't help that practically everywhere I go, there's some sort of reminder of it, either because the press have come after me again and are begging me for a quote or for some sign of our ongoing relationship, or because I find myself walking past that barbecue joint that we'd gone to after our day at the children's hospital, or because…

  He's in my head, and I can't seem to forget about him.

  “What's up?” I ask a bit nervously as I let him into my front hall.

  Ben smiles at me, and he almost looks surprised, as though he didn't even expect that much from me. “I just wanted to come by and see how you were doing,” he tells me.

  I shrug a little, wondering just how I'm supposed to respond to a question like that. I've been looking for a new job, but it's been pretty fruitless and frustrating—partly because I just don't know what I want to do with myself anymore. Of course, I don't really need to worry about it when I have such a generous settlement coming to me from the Chicago Kings. But even if I put a bunch of that money into savings, it won't last forever, and anyways, I would get bored if I had nothing to do with myself during the days.

  “Things have been all right,” I finally say. “Not great, but they've been okay.”

  “That's good,” Ben says. It seems as though there's something else that he really wants to say, but he can't seem to find the words for it, and I don't know that I want to press him.

  “Was there...anything else?” I ask timidly.

  Ben laughs a little. “Sorry, I know I'm making things kind of weird, just showing up like this. I had this whole speech written out in my head, but as soon as I saw you, it was like it went out the window.”

  He took a deep breath, and I suddenly wondered if it was possible that I made Ben Price nervous! “Do you want a drink or something?” I ask, leading the way into the house without waiting for his response. Maybe that'll loosen him up a bit.

  Ben catches my wrist, though, and the words come out of him in a rush. “I'm going to be moving,” he tells me. “I don't know where yet, but the Chicago Kings have decided to trade me.” He frowns. “They're going to give me a choice of where I'll end up, and of course I have some ideas in the back of my head. But there's no question about it: I'm going to be moving. Probably in a few months, as soon as my leg has healed up a little.”

  “Oh,” I say, surprised—even though I know that I shouldn't be. It will be strange to see Ben playing for a different team, though, after watching him play for the Kings for so many years.

  “Yeah, oh,” Ben says, grinning. “Anyway, that thing is… Well, Marissa, I was wondering if maybe you'd consider giving me a second chance. I can't seem to stop thinking about you, and-”

  I can't even let him finish what he's saying before I'm surging up to kiss him. It startles both of us, I think, and his hands have to come up to catch my waist and steady me as I threaten to topple both of us—I have to remember that he's still on crutches.

  Ben pulls away, laughing a little, his eyes twinkling. “Hey, Marissa, I’ve fallen in l
ove, with you. I know it’s crazy, rushed, and serious, but I’m hoping wherever I am, you will be there too.” he says quietly, brushing back my hair and gazing deep into my eyes, as though checking to make certain that this is really what I want.

  And I know that's not a decision that I can really make right now. And love? Not sure if that is what it is – maybe for him. But me? I’d have to observe his actions to see if he was for real. I wince a little and look away from him, feeling as though I've just misled him. “Ben, that is so sweet. Believe me if we had been dating for a while, I would say yes…but you have to understand, I’ve been through a lot the last few weeks. And you're not going to be in Chicago anymore,” I say flatly.

  “No,” Ben agrees. There's a long pause, and I can tell he's struggling to say something. “But now that you won't be working for the Chicago Kings, maybe you won't be here in Chicago either.”

  My first thought is to reject that outright—because there's no way I can move to a different city just to be with a guy that I barely know. Only it feels as though I do know Ben—even this new Ben that I'm seeing in front of me right now, the Ben who might actually be a good guy.

  And anyway, he sounds so hopeful that I can't help considering it.

  “It would depend on where you're moving to,” I tell him finally.

  Ben laughs. “Why, because you already know what kind of job you're looking for?”

  “No,” I say, tossing my hair a little. “But I refuse to support one of Chicago's rival teams, even if you do end up as a star quarterback for them!”

  Ben snorts and shakes his head. “The hazards of dating a woman who is interested in sports,” he says with mock exasperation.

  I shrug a little, ducking my head and looking up at him through my eyelashes. “Ben, I don't know-”

 

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