by Jody Holford
Isla wished she were one of those people who could see how things fit and moved together several steps in advance. But all she knew how to do in this moment was survive from one minute to the next. “I feel like the more time we spend together like this, the more I’ll need that to be the case.”
Her eyes moved down to watch his chest rise and lower slowly. “I should go.”
Looking up, she met his gaze and felt the tiny knot of sadness in her heart getting bigger and more tangled. “You should. But I’m glad you came. I won’t make it a habit of showing up here.”
Standing, he stared down at her a moment. “You’re welcome to if you need somewhere to be. And though it’s probably not a great idea for us to be out and about together, if you need anything at all, even just someone to vent to, text me. Day or night.”
Isla stood, and their bodies brushed together. She couldn’t help herself; she moved in and took the hug she needed. His arms came around her immediately, and he pressed his lips to her hair.
“I’m here, even if it has to be by phone, Red. You aren’t alone. Whether Addison shows up or not, you have more than just her in your corner.”
Tilting her head up, she stared into his dark eyes. “Thank you.”
The moment suspended and, because she might not get another opportunity, she went up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his in a sweet, intoxicating kiss that made her ache but would keep her warm when she revisited the memory.
She walked him to the door, and when he said good night, she closed it behind him and wondered how it was possible to miss something she’d never had. She’d never had a grandfather in her life, and yet it hurt that he was gone. She’d never know what it would be like to wake up in Liam’s bed and be the only woman he wanted. And the loss of that would stick with her. Tears burned her eyes as she walked back to the couch.
It was an hour earlier in Colorado, so Isla didn’t feel guilty placing the call. She’d offered Addie a serious pay bump and just about anything else she wanted to join her in Nashville. What she hadn’t done, yet, was say the three words that would have her friend there without question. Because she hadn’t wanted to be selfish or pushy. Now, it was say them or turn to Liam, because she could do this alone, but she really didn’t want to.
“Hey,” Addie said, picking up after the third ring.
“Hey.” Isla’s voice cracked.
“You okay?”
Taking a deep breath, Isla told her friend the truth. “I need you.”
There was a barely there pause before Addie said what Isla had known she would. “I’m on my way.”
Chapter Seventeen
Isla smiled as Addison Carlisle rolled her suitcase to the side of the bed and turned slowly, looking around the second bedroom of Josiah’s apartment. Wide windows let the muted sunshine dance through. The walls were a pale gray, but the deep blue bedcover gave it a welcoming feel. Isla rubbed her hands together, hoping her assistant and closest friend would like their temporary home.
Addie’s dark brown eyes danced with glee. “You just went from loaded to filthy rich. This place is insane,” she said.
Isla laughed and tackled her with another hug, rocking from side to side, so grateful to have her own someone there with her. It didn’t take the sting out of missing Liam over the last several days, but it soothed a piece of her heart.
“I’m so glad you’re here, that you like it. I can’t believe you agreed to move,” Isla said, trying to tuck away some of her emotions.
Addie stepped back, and her gaze turned serious. “You’re my person. Well, until I find my person person. But even then. You’re my girl. We’re a team. You know I’ve always wanted to come here. My mom insisted she didn’t need her daughter looking after her instead of living her own life.”
She said the words confidently, but Isla knew her friend must be weighted down with some guilt over leaving her family behind in Colorado.
“How’s she feeling?” Isla asked, sitting on the bed. Addie’s mom had multiple sclerosis, and Addison devoted all her spare time to raising money and awareness for the disease.
“Same. Good days and bad.” Addie sat down beside her, bumped her shoulder. “So? You came, got yourself a baseball team, fell for a hottie hitter, and put a few suits in their proper place. Did I miss anything?”
Isla couldn’t help but laugh at that little summary. She’d gotten a slight reprieve over the last couple of days by hiding in the apartment, asking Ethan, Josiah, Bruce, and a few others to meet with her there to answer the questions she’d drawn up for each of them. She was trying to create a system that would allow her to move into her role with the least pushback possible. She’d asked Ethan to get her a new phone due to the sheer number of calls she’d started receiving. Though she couldn’t be sure it was her father who gave out her number, suddenly every media person in Nashville was trying to get a comment.
Her first text had been to Liam to tell him the new number. When he’d texted back a simple: You got this, she nearly caved and called him. It was like, even without being with her, he knew what she needed. Instead, she’d kept it simple. Professional. Mature: Thank you. Then, she made more lists of questions.
“Hey,” Addie said. “Where’d you go?”
Isla shook her head, trying to school her features. Addie had come to help her organize her life, not her heart. More than anyone else Isla knew, Addie was reserved about her romantic life. She didn’t gossip about love interests or crushes. She barely even commented on Isla’s Thor screensaver.
Maybe Nashville was a new start for both of them in more ways than one. Either way, her friend needed to settle in, not hear about Isla’s woes.
“Nowhere. Sorry. Thank you for being here. We’re more than a team, and it means so much to me that you came.” She wanted to give her friend time to settle in, but truthfully, they didn’t have it.
The last couple of days had been an exercise in patience. Each management team had different reports, requests, and things up for review. Isla pored over statistics and files, bios and reports. She wanted to know as much as she possibly could, but there was no way she could learn a lifetime of what her advisors and employees knew in time for the season. She’d be lucky if she knew enough three seasons from now.
Josiah had suggested she take it piece by piece. The players were away, so for now, she’d focus on the front-of-house team. The people she’d work with most often.
“What’s first?” Addie said, her tone all business.
Part of Isla wanted to climb into the center of the bed and dish about Liam and her grandfather, her father, and everything that had been going on.
“I have a car coming for us in ten minutes. I want to introduce you to the team. Well, part of it.”
“I cannot believe you own a baseball team,” Addie said, shaking her head.
They made their way out to the living room and gathered up purses and laptops.
Today they’d review the roster so she could be updated on her players, discuss marketing—which she felt confident about—and work on a plan to endear Isla to the Nashville sporting community. In other words, find a way to make me look good after making myself look so dumb on television.
In the back of the car, as they were driven through Nashville, Addie stayed in business mode, which made it impossible to look out the window.
“I’ve been poring over everything I could get my hands on in the last few days. The sales for Slammers tickets are down, and I think one of our first marketing focuses should be there. You’ve said these guys know their stuff. Your GM takes care of the roster, the trades, and acquisitions. We need to play to our strengths.”
She wasn’t wrong, and Isla thought of how she’d built the deal from the ground up with Conroy Hotels. She needed to do something that would excite and engage the fans while also increasing the revenue. The Slammers weren’t top of the ranks, but they had a loyal fan base. They needed to use that underdog support for leverage.
“I
t surprises me your grandfather had sole ownership. From what I read, that isn’t usually the case.”
Addie’s statement pulled Isla out of her own head. “Apparently, he didn’t like to share.”
“Inviting in other investors is definitely one quick-fix solution for an influx of income,” Addie pointed out.
It was supposed to be about more than money. Was that why her grandfather hadn’t shared, or was it more to do with pride? “I know. But let’s just wait and see if it comes to that.”
They were let off at the stadium, and Addie stood on the sidewalk, looking up and taking it all in. Since she hadn’t allowed herself to do the same, Isla took a minute and stood beside her.
“This is so exciting,” Addie whispered.
Isla’s nerves, unease, and everything else fled, and she turned to look at her friend. Addie was almost bouncing with her enthusiasm. “Are you serious?”
Addie made a “get-out” face. “This is huge. You’re doing something amazing, and you brought me along for the ride. Do you know how few women own major league teams? And to be the only owner?”
Isla let that sink in, let it pour through her and warm her heart. Like her friend’s happiness, it fueled her, filled her with strength and certainty. She wanted this, and nothing was going to stop her.
Isla gave her a hard hug, happy tears surfacing. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
They entered the building, waving a hello to the reception desk and bypassing it to take the elevators to the fourth floor where the meetings were held. Isla heard the laughter and voices before they entered the meeting room. She had hoped to be first, but it was good to have a staff that was ready and willing.
Except, when she entered, it didn’t look like they were making chitchat while they waited. They were fully into conversations and engaged with one another, and Bruce was holding up a piece of paper. Whatever was on it had them belly laughing.
Isla recognized Mickey Sarola, the team manager, Bruce, both of their assistants, one of the scouts, and the manager of player relations. Bruce turned slowly, seeing where his mirthful audience was staring.
Folding up the paper, he sat down, tucked it under his notepad, and pressed his lips together. Looks like the boys club started early. Unfortunately, but luckily, Isla had walked into a scene like this more times than she cared to count.
Her lips tilted up into a practiced smile. “Mickey, Bruce. Nice to see you. Are we late?”
Bruce leaned back, his Slammers T-shirt stretching tight as he folded his hands over his stomach. Mickey, at least, had the good grace to avert his eyes.
“We were going over things that don’t concern you,” Bruce said.
Addie bristled at her side, but Isla shot her a glance. She needed to make her position on this clear. Alone. “Oh. My mistake. You’re not all here talking about baseball and the Slammers?”
She and Addie moved to the table and took a seat so they were facing Bruce and Mickey. The others were corralled into the corner of the large rectangle.
“We are discussing the team, Ms. Bennett. We were discussing a couple of the farm boys we want to bring up,” Henry Bays, player relations manager, said.
Before he could say more, Isla turned her gaze back to Bruce. “If it’s about the Slammers, it concerns me. And when I schedule a meeting at ten o’clock, I don’t expect it to start without me.”
Addie took her laptop out of its case and opened it. Isla gestured to her. “This is Addison Carlisle. She is my personal assistant and will sit in on all meetings with me.”
There were hellos and brief exchanges given. Isla’s skin prickled with irritation, but she forced herself to swallow it down so they could get started. She knew they needed to solidify the roster, and she also knew these people could do it without her. But if she didn’t take part, she wouldn’t be a part of this. And Bruce had no right to cut her out.
But she couldn’t shake the wobbly feeling in her stomach. The one she hadn’t felt since her junior high days.
Maybe she could break the ice. “Before we get going, mind if I ask to be in on the joke?”
Like the air had been sucked out of the room, everyone turned to her. Bruce’s eyes narrowed, and even from across the table, she could see the hard set of lines around his mouth.
“Excuse me?” His voice was hard.
Isla pointed to him. “You were showing everyone a piece of paper?”
His cheeks reddened, making him look older. “That was nothing. Inside joke.”
Her skin felt pinched. Tight. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. “Can I see anyway?”
He stared at her, his gaze hard and unforgiving. “Someone dropped it off on my desk.”
Her heart beat uncomfortably. “Gifts are nice.”
She knew better than to back down. Showing weakness, of any sort, would give him the upper hand.
The others searched for places to fix their gazes—darting around the room, anywhere but at Isla or Bruce. Bruce took his time leaning back, unfolding the paper before flattening it on the table.
On it, there was a cartoonish woman who resembled Isla too closely for comfort. She had on high heels, a fancy suit, wore her hair teased up, and both hands were full of red solo cups. The caption read: I want the cup!
Isla’s heart stuttered, and her face got impossibly warm. She swallowed around the lump in her throat.
She held Bruce’s gaze, and let out the air trapped in her lungs. “If only I was wearing a Slammers shirt instead of a power suit, that would be a great logo for a new line of merchandise.”
Addie swallowed a laugh, and Isla glanced at her friend, grateful she was there.
Bruce cleared his throat. “Just a joke. No reason to let it bug you. Need thick skin in this business.”
Isla turned her head back to him, one brow arched. “My skin is plenty thick, though I appreciate the advice, Bruce. I’m not too worried about fitting in, seeing as I own the team.”
She was letting her emotions rule her words and knew she shouldn’t, but he was a playground bully. He was every mean girl and boy she’d run across as a teen. He was her dad.
Bruce balled the paper up and tossed it on the table. “We need to get on with the meeting.”
They did, but Isla’s brain refused to settle. She wanted to make this work, but she couldn’t deny that Bruce had chipped away at the part of her that always doubted herself.
Time to lock that part of you away. Easy to say. Harder to do. Especially with what felt like the world watching her every move.
Chapter Eighteen
Liam swallowed down the growl burning the back of his throat as he read through Twitter.
@SportsFirst Are the Slammers about to get fit? Can new owner Isla Bennett, daughter of fitness mogul, get this team in shape?
@AllBaseball New owner really wants “the cup.” Should someone tell her when baseball seasons starts?
@ComedyNet Can someone get @NashvilleSlammers owner a cup?
@CelebrityInTheKnow Will Slammers slugger
@LiamCruz show new owner around his bases?
It had been over two weeks of this shit. When the hell would they back off?
It was still off-season. Hopefully this stuff would die down before the season started, but it was unlikely, since all eyes would be on the Slammers.
He was going crazy being away from her. He didn’t even recognize himself. He was short with his family, miserable and restless at home. The only saving grace was texting her.
He shouldn’t be. They shouldn’t be. He could just imagine the reaction of his teammates if they found out he’d fallen for their boss. Before knowing she was our boss. But still. The guys would see him as part of the enemy camp. They wouldn’t loosen up around him, shoot the shit, and treat him the same. The ones who didn’t hold it against him would use it against him. If he got more playing time or anything that looked like preferential treatment, it’d be tied to Isla.
Teams were about being able to count on one another
, about having one another’s backs. He knew that if he crossed this line with Isla, not only would it impact her job, it would jeopardize his relationships with the guys. Still, he couldn’t cut ties completely, and he knew that they were being hard on her.
She wouldn’t tell him much, and he knew she had Addison by her side, but he wanted to be there, too. Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text.
Liam: How was your day?
Even the wait for her response had him pacing. At this rate, when he saw her at the stadium, he’d probably weep with freaking joy. What was wrong with him?
Isla: If there were no funny shirts, memes, or snide remarks made, does it count as good?
His heartbeat settled just from seeing her name on his screen. Nothing was wrong with him. He was just falling head over heels for a woman he couldn’t have and hardly knew. Though, over the last couple weeks, they’d shared enough texts that that no longer felt true. It felt high schoolish that those texts were the best parts of his day.
By some unspoken agreement, they didn’t call each other. He wasn’t sure he could handle hearing her voice and not want to be with her.
Liam: It counts as good if something made you smile. A real smile. The one that makes your eyes light up and forms those little creases in your forehead.
He shook his head. Consider him the new president of Sap Central. He had it bad. He’d been sure it would fade—this crush on his boss. But it hadn’t. Not even close.
Isla: Wow. First of all, that’s quite the description of my smile. Second, it’s probably not a good idea to tell you I haven’t smiled like that since…
Flopping back on the couch, he groaned. He knew the “since.” Staring at the ceiling, trying to get his emotions under control, he willed himself to call James, a cousin, a teammate. Talia. Anyone other than Isla. But that wasn’t what he did.
Liam: I miss you. I need to see you.
Part of him hoped she’d remind him they weren’t traveling this road, that they’d made this decision for a reason. One of them had to be strong, right? It felt like she was definitely the powerhouse of the two of them. Talk about irony.