CHANGING THE PLAYER: Charleston Pirates #1 Read online

  “Nadia.” He smiles. “Please come in.”

  “How are you, Mr. Benson?”

  “I’m well, thank you.”

  My gaze swings to his daughter Sadie. She winks at me. “Hey, Nadia.”

  I smile. “Hey there.”

  Sadie is the Vice President of Operations for the Pirates. She and I have become great friends over the past few years, but we try to remain as professional as possible when we’re in a business setting like now.

  Mr. Benson gestures to a chair. “Have a seat.” Once I’m settled, he continues. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called this meeting, so I’ll get right to it. Due to Flynn’s recent behavior, I’m seriously considering releasing him. His incredible play on the field can’t compensate for his actions away from it. I wish they could, because losing him will hurt, but I need to put the well-being of the team first.”

  “I understand the cause for your concern.” What else can I say? Flynn put himself in this situation.

  “Maybe we can give him a chance to prove himself,” Sadie suggests.

  “What are you thinking?” Mr. Benson asks.

  “We can give him a couple of months to remake his image. If he can stop acting irresponsibly and be a model member of the Pirates, then he deserves to stay.”

  “That could work. However, if there’s even one more incident of bad press for him, he’s gone. I want him to be squeaky clean as far as the public’s perception goes.”

  Remaining quiet, my eyes ping back and forth between the father and daughter team, waiting for confirmation that this is the plan.

  “Nadia, what do you think?” Sadie asks.

  “It’s better than the alternative, that’s for sure. You’re giving him another chance, and that’s extremely generous of you. I’ll do my best to make sure he stays in line.”

  “I know you’ll do what you can. Hopefully he values his career as much as his work ethic on the field reflects,” Mr. Benson says.

  “I can tell you firsthand that he does. He loves playing football more than anything, and his drive is unmatched. I’ll have a talk with him and relay our conversation.”

  Sadie rises. “Let me walk you out.”

  Standing, I look to Mr. Benson once more. “Thank you for giving Flynn another chance.”

  He gives a quick nod. “I hope he uses it wisely.”

  “I’m going to see to it that he does,” I reply with more confidence than I feel before walking out with Sadie.

  Once we’re in the hallway, she asks, “Want to grab a quick lunch?”

  “I would love to, but I need to get Flynn to my office ASAP. Who knows what he might get into tonight if I wait.”

  Sadie laughs. “I see your point.”

  “I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “You better be. I miss you. We haven’t gotten together in too long.”

  “I agree.” We exchange a brief hug and I step into the elevator.

  As the doors close, Sadie calls out, “Good luck.”

  Thanks. I’m gonna need it.

  * * *

  Back in my office, I pace back and forth across the width of the room while I work out a plan for what I’m going to say to Flynn. I finally give up and drop into my chair. He’s not going to take it well. He’ll deny it at first. His massive ego will make it difficult for him to understand how Mr. Benson could consider letting him go. And lucky me, it’s my job to find a way past his thick skull. There are times when I work exceptionally hard to earn my money, and this is one of them.

  Flynn comes into my office like he owns the place. It’s not really his fault. His presence is larger than most, and with his bigger-than-average size, he has a way of shrinking an area down.

  “What’s up, Nadia?” he asks. “You wanted to see me, and here I am.”

  I fold my hands on the desk in front of me. “Thank you for coming in. I got called into an unexpected meeting with the Bensons.”

  “Oh yeah? What did they have to say? Bet they liked that last touchdown I scored for the win last week.” His grin reeks of arrogance and it rubs me the wrong way. Especially after the meeting I attended. It almost makes the news I’m about to share with him less painful for me to deliver.

  I’m not usually one who enjoys handing out threats or ultimatums, but Flynn’s ego is out of control, and if I need to be the one to check it, then so be it.

  Maybe chipping away at some of the excess will be a blessing in disguise. No one ever died from learning a little humility.

  “Actually, Mr. Benson didn’t have anything positive to say about you. He was talking about firing you.”

  “For what?” he snarls, gripping the edge of my desk. “For being the best receiver in the league?”

  “He acknowledged your talent on the field, but he’s not willing to put up with all the bad press you’ve been bringing the team.”

  “Oh, come on. So I like to have fun.” He shrugs. “It doesn’t hurt my game performance at all.”

  “Flynn, you’re not listening to me.” He’s reacting exactly like I expected.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Then you’re not hearing me. Mr. Benson delivered an ultimatum and I’m relaying it to you right now.” I stare pointedly at him until he nods to let me know he’s listening. “If you get into any more scrapes with the law, get photographed acting inappropriately with women, or anything else that could be considered controversial, you’ll be out of a job. Do you understand? No more J.O.B.”

  Crumpling into a defeated heap in the chair in front of my desk, he dangles his hands between his spread legs. “I can’t believe he wants to fire me.” He sounds so dejected, I can empathize.

  “If he wanted to, he wouldn’t have given you another chance. But he was very clear about this being the one and only one you’ll be getting. If you fuck up the slightest bit, you’ll be gone.”

  He rakes his hand through his hair. “What should I do?”

  “You need to stop drinking and stop going to clubs.”

  “I guess I can do that.”

  “You guess?” My face screws up like I ate a lemon. Here he is being given a second chance and he’s acting like it’s out of his control. “You’re a grown man, Flynn. It’s time to act like one.”

  He aims a wounded glance my way. “Okay. You don’t have to be mean about it.”

  A small twinge of remorse plucks at my chest. I certainly don’t want to hurt him. “I’m trying to make you understand the seriousness of this situation.”

  “Believe me, I do. Aside from the no drinking and clubbing, what else should I do?”

  “We need to find a way to make you look more wholesome,” I say.

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that? Do I look like the wholesome type?”

  My gaze sweeps from his sexily tousled hair to his tight t-shirt and tattooed arms. With him seated, I can’t see any farther, but I know what I’d find if I could. I know that his jeans, worn in all the right places, hug his muscular thighs. As much as I hate to admit it, I noticed when he walked in.

  “No, you don’t look wholesome, but you better find a way to. Maybe we should dress you in different clothes.”

  “What’s wrong with my clothes?” he asks.

  Absolutely nothing if you want to ooze sex and trouble.

  “Nothing’s wrong with them, but maybe you should buy some sweaters and khakis.”

  “Really? Sweaters and khakis are wholesome?” he questions, and I shrug.

  He throws his hands up. “Christ, Nadia. If you don’t know what to do, how am I supposed to? I employ you because of your level head, and I need your clear thinking now more than ever. Help me out here, please.” He surprises me with his earnestness.

  Sitting in silence, I watch my cherry red nails drum on the wooden desk while I search for any idea that could help him. I’m a resourceful person. I have to be able to come up with something useful. My eyes climb to meet Flynn’s. “Dating someone could help your image. Is there a woman you’re intere
sted in?”

  “Not for more than one night,” he says.

  I sigh. “Ugh. Work with me, why don’t you.”

  “Hey, I’m just being honest.”

  “Well, you need to find someone to date.”

  “Fuck that. I don’t want a girlfriend or I’d already have one.”

  “You want to keep your job, right?” I ask, and he nods, looking glum. “And you trust me to help you, right?”

  “Yeah, of course I do.”

  “You don’t necessarily need an actual girlfriend. You just need people to think you’re in a relationship,” I explain.

  He angles his head to the side, studying my face. “Are you saying I should find someone to pretend to be my girlfriend?”

  “It’s not the worst idea. It would make you look more settled.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know anyone who would help me out,” he says.

  “You don’t have a female friend who could pretend to be with you for a couple of months? That’s not much to ask.” How does someone who looks like him not have a female friend who’d help him out in a pinch?

  3

  Flynn

  I take in Nadia’s words and my eyes open as wide as possible. “Holy shit. You’re a genius.”

  “I am?” She tips her head, looking skeptical.

  “I think you just helped me figure out the perfect solution to my problem.” A grin spreads across my face.

  “I did?”

  “I don’t know why you didn’t suggest this yourself.”

  She lifts a well-groomed eyebrow. “Maybe you should share your idea with me since I have no clue what it could be.”

  “You can be my girlfriend.”

  “Say what?” Her entire face scrunches like a little shar pei puppy.

  “Come on. You heard me.”

  “I couldn’t have possibly heard right.” She sticks the tip of her index finger in her ear and wiggles it around.

  I lean forward, resting my arms on her desk. “I said you should be my girlfriend.”

  She presses her lips together in a questioning expression. “You’re kidding, right? I’m not girlfriend material.”

  Reaching forward, I clasp hold of both her hands. “Why not?”

  “For one, I’m your agent.”

  I shake my head dismissively. “No one will care about that.”

  “And two, I’m too old for you.”

  My eyes glide over her face noting the smooth skin and sharp angles of her cheekbones, as if I’m seeing her for the first time. “How old are you?”

  Her brown eyes narrow. “You’re not supposed to ask a lady her age.”

  “Humor me.”

  She sighs. “Thirty-five.”

  “Well, I’m twenty-seven.”

  “I’m well aware of your age, Flynn. Why do you think I said I’m too old.”

  “Nah.” My thumbs slide across the backs of her hands in soothing caresses. “It’s only eight years. Besides, you look younger anyway.”

  “But I’m not your type.”

  “What does that mean?” Nadia is beautiful. She’s every guy’s type.

  “The women you date,” she pauses. “They have a certain look about them.”

  “Oh, the big...” I trail off, smirking. It’s not like I only go after women with ample breasts. It’s a happy accident that it almost always seems to work out that way. Maybe big breasted women just dig me.

  “Pretty much.”

  My gaze lowers, homing in on her chest. She’s not lacking, by any means. “Yours look fine to me,” I joke. But they’re more than fine. They’re a perky handful, and I have big hands. I’m not sure why I’ve never noticed before.

  Cheeks pink with embarrassment, she tugs her hands free from my hold and crosses her arms in front of her chest, trying to block my view. In reality, all she’s managed to do is call more attention to the arresting pair. “Kindly keep your eyes off my breasts.”

  “That might be difficult to do now that you’re my girlfriend.”

  She gasps, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

  “Come on, Nadia. I need your help.” I do my best lonely puppy dog in the shelter cage impression. I need to sway her. “I don’t want to lose my job.”

  “Then maybe you should think about changing your behavior,” she snarks.

  She’s not wrong.

  “I have thought about it, but I need someone to help me.”

  “You’re a grown-ass man. Don’t you think it’s time you acted like one?”

  I wish it were that easy.

  “It’s not that simple for me. Once I’m out in public and having fun, I lose control of myself. I don’t know when to stop, and usually by the time I do, I’ve already gone too far.”

  “So you want me to be your babysitter in addition to your pretend girlfriend?” She huffs the question out, her exasperation apparent.

  “That’s not how I’d put it exactly.”

  “Well, how would you put it, then?”

  “You’d be my fake girlfriend and you’d provide a gentle reminder to behave when I need one.”

  “What do you mean by a ‘gentle reminder’? Are we talking about an elbow jab or a shock collar like a dog? Because the latter could be kind of fun.”

  “I never imagined you were the kinky type,” I joke.

  “You know, this goes way above my job description.”

  “I realize that. I’ll compensate you for your time. I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars for two months of being my pretend girlfriend.”

  “Flynn, that’s a lot of money.”

  “I can afford it.” She looks torn, so I blurt out, “I’ll pay you twenty thousand. Ten thousand per month.”

  Her eyes almost bulge from their sockets. “That’s just crazy.”

  “No, it’s not. Besides, you owe me.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I signed with you instead of Dave Hassler. I gave you a chance because I believed in you from our first meeting.”

  “I know you did. And I’ve always believed in you too. In fact, I still do. I know there’s a better solution to this problem than for me to help you carry out this charade.”

  “Who’s going to look out for me more than you? You’re already emotionally and financially invested in me.”

  “As your agent, I’ll always look out for your best interests.”

  “I like to think at this point we’re also friends. You’ve known me since I was in college. You know me better than any other woman.”

  “I doubt that’s true.”

  “Do you really, though? How many relationships have I been in? How many times have you seen my family around?” She briefly met my parents once, and she knows I don’t keep women around for more than a night or two.

  In the past, she’s given me shit about my “commitment phobia”. I don’t let her answer my questions before I fire off one more. “And if I ask some random woman to help me, how can I trust that she won’t spill the beans about our arrangement to the tabloids?” What I’m saying has legitimate merit. I can see the realization settling in as she frowns, so I press her some more. “You know I’m right.”

  “You can be right, but that still doesn’t mean I’m going to help you. I bet we can come up with someone else,” she says. “Two brains are better than one.”

  I nod, willing to give it a shot. “Okay. Who then?”

  “What about the girl who works in the mail room?”

  “The one who doesn’t speak to anyone?”

  “Yeah, that’s her. She’s shy, but she talks to me.”

  “A lot of good that would do since I’d be the one spending time with her. Whoever is going to be my fake girlfriend can’t be afraid to converse with me or people they don’t know. We’ll be in plenty of social situations where all eyes will be on us. I need someone dependable.” I stare into Nadia’s eyes pleadingly. “Can’t you do this solid for me?”

  “Flynn, you’re such a selfish dick some
times.”

  I laugh. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  She drags in a long, slow breath. “I’m sorry. That was very unprofessional of me to call you that name.”

  “I don’t give a shit what you call me, just say you’ll be my girlfriend.”

  “You’re such a romantic,” she drolls.

  “If you need an academy-worthy performance, I can try my best. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Please, Nadia. I’m begging here. Did you ever think you’d see the day I’d be begging for anything?” If she says no, I’m so screwed. There’s a lot riding on me changing my image for the better. When I mentioned needing her to keep me in line, I wasn’t exaggerating. I really do.

  Nadia studies me, her lips compressed into a tight line. Fuck me. She’s going to refuse and I’ll have to figure out another way to get out of this mess.

  Every muscle in my body rigid, I hold my breath, waiting for her refusal but hoping for her agreement.

  She walks around her desk and pauses in front of my chair. Placing her palms on the wooden surface behind her, she braces her weight, leaning backward. “I’ll give you two months and not a minute more,” she tells me.

  “Yes,” I shout, pumping my fist.

  “I think you meant to say thank you.”

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Nadia. You’re the best.”

  “That remains to be seen. It’s possible this might be the worst idea ever and it’ll be a massive failure.”

  “Way to think positive, Nadia.”

  “Hey, what can I say?” She shrugs. “We need to be realistic. This is not an infallible plan.”

  “Is any plan really foolproof?” I ask.

  Her dark stare locks on me. “You need to be on your best behavior.”

  “Or what?” I wiggle my eyebrows.

  “Or you’ll be finding a new fake girlfriend,” she states firmly. Her brusque tone reminds me that I’ll need to curb my natural tendency to make a joke out of pretty much everything. As unimaginable as it may seem, the possibility of losing my place on the Pirates is very much real. She returns to the other side of the desk, sinking down into her leather chair. “Oh, and one more thing. You have to promise me that no one will ever know we’re not really dating. Not even after the two months is over. I can’t chance having that particular bit of information coming to light. My reputation needs to be protected. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am in this male dominated business.”