Chapter Five
“It’s not too early to treat myself with a glass of champagne, is it?” He’d called Janice as soon as he’d gotten home. After that odd exchange outside Armi’s office, he’d spent over an hour in HR getting his paperwork filled out, and he was tired. But exuberant. “I got the job.”
“No shit? He hired you on the spot? Must be those pretty eyes of yours. Bastard,” she swore. “It’s not fair that you have longer lashes than I do.”
“Very funny.” Hayden decided if he could tell anyone about their odd connection, it would be Janice. Not like she and Armand Winters would cross paths. “But there is something I have to tell you.”
“I’m hearing a story,” she singsonged. “Spill it.”
“I’ve met Armand Winters before.” He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, remembering those needy, broken sounds from Armi when he’d sucked him off. “Remember you told me to go out and enjoy myself after Boris let me go?”
“Don’t tell me…” She cackled with glee.
“Well, I don’t kiss and tell, but let’s just say, it was an enjoyable night. For both of us.”
“And now you’re his PA. How deliciously convenient.”
Hayden pulled himself out of the fantasy of fucking Armi on his desk. “No. I mean, yes, I’m his PA now, but no, the two of us are not going to be taking it any further. I told you, I don’t sleep with my bosses.”
He might not ever get the chance to be naked with Armi again, but that didn’t mean he liked seeing Russell Anders touching him. Whitmore was a bully and a blowhard, and Hayden had dealt with plenty like him. Anders was another story. Something was going on there, but he didn’t know what. Yet. But Armi was vulnerable and sweet, and Hayden refused to allow anyone to take advantage of him.
“Your bosses have all been married and or straight, and Boris was seventy-five. I doubt his wrinkled ass would appeal.”
“Come on, Janice. You know that’s not me.”
Her sigh was one for the martyrs. “Yeah, I know. But a girl can dream, right? I mean, I’ve seen pictures of Armand Winters. A little bit of a nebbish, but a cutie. I’m surprised he was at the same club as you.”
Stung, he sniped at her, “Why, because I’m not good enough?” He already knew Armi Winters was way, way out of his league, but it sure as hell didn’t feel good hearing it from Janice.
“No, dummy. Because he seems quiet and shy. Not the kind to hang out looking for a hookup, which I know is where you found him. He seems more the piano bar and theater type.”
His hackles lowered. She had a point. “Well, yeah. I see that too. I guess he felt like letting go for a night. Seeing how the other half lived.” Hayden could write him a book. The conversation had dulled his thrill over his new position. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know how it turned out. Your firm will get its fee, and I have things to learn about football in general and the Brooklyn Kings in particular. Bye.”
Before she could squawk her displeasure, he ended the call, and with a glass of champagne in hand, picked up his laptop and googled everything he could find on the Kings.
One hour and two rolls of sushi later, he took a break and stretched out on the sofa. No wonder Armi was a nervous wreck taking over. There were so many rules to learn and complications with agents and players and the unions, it was impossible to learn the inner workings of an NFL team in a week, a month, or even a year. Armi may have grown up in the world of the Kings, but Hayden wondered how much he truly understood.
He logged in to the Kings’ network and accessed Armi’s calendar, which to his shock was completely empty. He scrolled and scrolled through to the end of the year, and there wasn’t a single entry. “That’s impossible. He must have meetings, appointments, dinners. This makes no sense at all.”
On a hunch, he looked at the schedules of Russell Anders, Jacob Whitmore, and Troy Geiger and saw their days were filled. “Why isn’t Armi invited to any of these meetings?” Seething, he searched the directory for Russell’s personal assistant and called her.
“Russell Anders’s office. How may I help you?”
He winced at the perkiness.
“My name’s Hayden Porter. I was hired today by Armand Winters as his personal assistant.”
“I heard.” Her voice was tinged with amusement. “You put that snob Jacob Whitmore in his place. Wish I’d seen it.”
At this moment, he didn’t have time to gossip. That could—and would—come later. “I’m looking at Mr. Winters’s calendar, and it’s totally blank. When I checked Mr. Anders’s and Mr. Whitmore’s, I see they’re full.”
“Well, Armand isn’t always invited to every meeting. He’s the owner but not necessarily the one who makes the best decisions.”
Listening to her brush off Armi’s position, he bristled. “Mr. Winters is the owner. He should be invited and given the opportunity to decide whether to attend or not.” He scrolled back several weeks. “I don’t see anything on his calendar to indicate that he was even asked to participate.”
“You said your name is Hayden?” Her tone had turned decidedly frosty. “That’s not how it works. Armand isn’t like his father. He doesn’t know anything about the game, the players, nothing about running the Kings. Armand should leave it up to the people who know what they’re doing. Now, you’ll have to excuse me.”
The phone went dead, and Hayden wondered what he was getting himself into. He remembered seeing Armi almost in tears at the bar from the dickhead who’d gotten a drink spilled on him. Now he understood why. Like when Whitmore got in Armi’s face and he’d reacted, Hayden’s protective instinct burst free.
“Not anymore. Not on my watch.”
He found every meeting starting the following week and added Armi to all of them. He waited, and as expected, the phone he’d been given after he’d been entered into the Kings’ system began to ring.
“Hayden Porter.” He couldn’t keep the grin off his lips. “May I help you?”
“This is Larry White, Mr. Geiger’s personal assistant. Why did you add Mr. Winters to Monday’s budget meeting?”
He lazed back on the sofa. “Well…let me think. Don’t you think the owner should know how the team’s money is being spent?” He waited a beat. “Unless there’s something to hide.”
“What? No,” he denied vehemently. “Of course not. I’m appalled at your insinuation.”
Hayden pounced. “Who said it was an insinuation?”
He repeated, almost word for word, the same conversation with Whitmore’s PA and all the others who called with similar questions. By the time he finished, Armi’s calendar for the next month was filled, and Hayden took a break for dinner. He picked up a grilled-chicken salad and brought up his dry cleaning from the delivery room in the lobby. While eating, he searched online for more on Armand Winters—both his personal and his professional life.
There was little information aside from the usual pedigree—prep schools, ivy league college. He’d worked at one of the major CPA firms in the city for five years after graduation, then left. After that, not much except…
“Bulgaria? What the hell is there?”
Fascinated, he began to read.
**
Eight a.m. on Monday morning found him entering the offices of the Kings. He seemed to be the only one there. It was a little later than his usual, but he’d made several stops along the way. He set his bundles on the reception desk and frowned.
“Why does it still say ‘Randolph Winters, Owner and CEO’? That should’ve been changed weeks ago.” Annoyed already, and he hadn’t even set foot past the entrance, he pulled out his phone and made a note to himself: Call to have replacement sign ordered for Armand.
Gingerly, he picked up the packages, and with his shoulder, pushed open the glass doors leading into the office area.
“How is this possible? A huge organization and no one’s in at eight a.m.?” He shrugged. “Well, just gives me a chance to do what needs to be done.” First thing was to make coffee and turn on his computer. After setting up his desk as he liked—computer monitor on the left, inbox on the right, and all black pens—he started on his tasks. He placed the several dozen roses he’d purchased at seven that morning in the slim crystal vases that luckily hadn’t broken during his travels. On his desk, he set the candy-pink Queen Elizabeths, the front receptionist desk held two vases of sunny Michelangelo yellows for cheerfulness, and the last and largest were in Armi’s office. Beautiful, lush, peach Peace roses.
Hands on hips, he surveyed his arrangements with satisfaction.
“I thought I’d find you in early.”
He turned to see Russell Anders several feet away. Watchful eyes met his.
Hayden turned on the charm. “Good morning, Mr. Anders. Yes, but I’m amazed no one else is. Almost eight thirty, and I’m the only one here. Color me surprised.” He said it with an easy smile and took a seat behind his desk to arrange his desk drawers. “Is there something I can help you with, sir?”
“I figured to get in early to help you acclimate.”
About to dismiss him, the old adage about catching more flies with honey than vinegar sprang to Hayden’s mind. “That’s so very nice of you. May I offer you a cup of coffee?”
Anders nodded. “That would be great, thanks. Cream, no sugar.” He pulled over a chair and sat. Waiting.
He prepared the cup and handed it to Anders, then took the seat behind his desk, the friendly smile never wavering. “So, tell me what I should be prepared for.”
Anders took a sip, grunted with satisfaction, and set the coffee on Hayden’s desk. “I like Armand. I really do.”
Hayden kept the mug to his lips, listening. He was waiting for the “but.”
“But,” Anders continued, “he’s a little…different.”
Hayden raised a brow, allowing what he hoped was an invitation to continue “Oh?”
Perhaps sensing a camaraderie in his willingness to gossip, Russell hitched up his slacks and wheeled his chair closer. “Even as a child, he was…soft. Unable to stand up for himself.”
“I think he’s very nice. And sweet.”
Anders’s lips twitched. “He is. A very nice kid.”
“Kid? He’s close to forty.” Anger welled up inside Hayden, but he held his tongue.
“True, but he’s a dreamer at heart. We never thought Armand would be taking over—Randolph planned to give Armand a sizable share but not give him control of the Kings. I was to take over as owner and general manager.”
“So you feel cheated?” Surprised by Anders’s openness, Hayden hoped to glean as much information as possible.
“No, no, of course not,” Anders rushed out. “But the team must be protected.”
This was getting stranger and stranger. “Why would Mr. Winters do anything to hurt his business? When we spoke, he seemed intent on the Kings continuing on their winning ways. He’s grown up in the organization, and he knows what he’s doing, at least to some extent. I’m going to make things easier for him. That’s why I added him to all the meetings scheduled that I discovered he was left out of. An oversight, no doubt.” He kept his face bland.
Was that a flash of annoyance in Anders’s eyes?
“That’s good to hear. I’ll check with Lucy so that doesn’t happen again. I can’t imagine how that slipup occurred.”
I’ll just bet. I wonder how many other meetings he’s accidentall y missed.
“Great. And I’ll reach out to everyone as well.” His smile was cat-that-drank-the-cream satisfied. “It’s always good to have a backup. I’m sure you agree.”
“Of course. And I’m very glad Armand has someone in his corner.”
Hayden finished his coffee and spied people trickling in. A quick glance at the computer screen showed it to be several minutes after nine. “Well, time for me to get to work. I appreciate the talk, Mr. Anders.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page, Hayden.”
We’re not even reading the same book, Russell, but I know your story.
Russell walked away, greeting people, and Hayden set out to work on Armi’s schedule, as well as reading up on the trade negotiations.
“Did you bring the flowers?”
Armi stood in front of him, and this time Hayden’s pleasure was genuine. “I did. I know you like roses, and I thought they’d brighten up the place.”
Happiness shone from his face. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Almost reverently, he touched the petals of the pink roses.
“I’m glad. There’s another bouquet in your office. If you like, I can have them all the time. I’ll have the florist deliver them when these start to fade.”
Armi nodded. “I’d like that.” Halfway to his office, he turned. “Can you come inside, please?”
Confused, Hayden followed him and shut the door. “Is everything all right? Did I do something wrong?”
Armand remained still, gazing at the large bouquet of roses on his desk. “I’m confused. How did you know I like roses?”
“I…” He wet his lips. Did it sound weird? Maybe, but he wasn’t going to lie. “I researched you and discovered your passion is roses. You’ve won numerous contests and have some exotic bushes you’re credited with creating in the New York Botanical Gardens.”
“I don’t know if I’d give myself all those accolades.” As was becoming obvious, Armi rarely accepted praise and was more used to self-deprecation. “I experiment by grafting them to try and grow new subspecies.” He touched the petals of the roses on the conference table. “Sometimes it works, but often it doesn’t.”
“I’m sorry.” Hayden laced his fingers together. “I hope you’re not angry with me.”
“Why would I be?” Armi’s brow puckered.
“Maybe you didn’t want me looking you up online? But I was trying to learn more about you.”
“I’m not mad. But you know…you could just ask me.” Armi’s shy smile was like a warm hug on a cold night. “I guess you discovered I’m not very interesting.”
“That’s no way to talk. Owner of a billion-dollar franchise sounds pretty damn sexy to me.”
A bright-red flush rose over Armi’s face. “Okay, now I know you’re kidding me. I’m the least sexy person around. Please. Don’t think you have to flatter me. I know.”
“Know what?”
“That I don’t belong here.”
Hayden spotted a skipped button on Armi’s shirt and he pressed his lips together. He really was kind of a mess, but Hayden thought it was cute. He pointed to Armi’s chest. “You missed one of the buttons on your shirt. Right in the middle.”
“Dammit. I was rushing because I just saw you added me to meetings, and I didn’t want to be late.”
“I sent you an email. Didn’t you get it?”
Armi’s cheeks continued to burn red. “I don’t usually check work email on weekends.”
Hayden rushed to reassure him. “It’s not a big deal. I should’ve texted you and let you know. You’ll be fine.”
Clearly exasperated with himself, Armi pulled out his shirt and began to fix it. “I’m going to try and do my best.”
“I’m sure you will, and I’m going to be there to help you succeed.”
The door burst open, and Whitmore entered. “Armand, why the hell did your PA add you—” He stopped dead, his bugged-out eyes taking in the scene—Hayden standing close to Armi, whose shirt was half-open and pulled from his slacks.
Oh, fuck.
Hayden gave his back to Armi, shielding him and giving him a chance to finish dressing. Of course that didn’t stop Whitmore from jumping to the worst possible conclusion.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this in the office. Is that why you hired him?”
Bright red again, Armi stammered, “Wh-what? N-no. It’s not—”
Hayden drew himself up to his full height and glared at Whitmore. “What you’re insinuating is highly unprofessional and improper. Mr. Winters is the owner and CEO and deserves respect. And I resent your implication as to my qualifications and work ethic.”
He always did have balls. After his arrest and expulsion from college, he’d heard the whispers in town but he’d held his head up and hadn’t given a damn what people would say about him. He’d been more concerned with how his mistake had affected his parents, and that had pushed him to show everyone in their small town he could make something of himself. His parents’ love and support were the strengths he leaned on and learned from.
Finished with his clothing, Armi stepped from behind him. “What seems to be the problem, Jacob?”
“ He ”—Whitmore pointed to him as if Hayden didn’t have a name, and he bristled but remained quiet—“without permission, added you to meetings.”
Armi darted a glance his way, chewed his bottom lip, and Hayden hoped he’d stand up to the bully.
“Uh, yeah, I guess it would’ve been better had someone said something beforehand. But I think I should be there, don’t you?”
Hayden hated how apologetic and hesitant Armi sounded and jumped to defend him.
“It’s true. I added Mr. Winters to the meetings without him knowing. But shouldn’t he have been on the list to begin with? Do you know why he wasn’t?” In Hayden’s opinion, it was easy enough to see.
“That’s not your business,” Whitmore snapped.
“Correct, but it is Mr. Winters’s business, and his business is mine insofar as the Kings. My loyalty is to him. Now, please let him finish getting ready for the budget meeting in”—he checked his watch—“fourteen minutes.”
Whitmore worked his jaw, then spun on his heel and stalked out.
“I can’t…wow.” Armi’s drawn-out breath whistled behind him. “I’ve never heard anyone speak to Jacob like that.”
Hayden wished he’d held his tongue. He was afraid he’d made an enemy of Whitmore, but he couldn’t stand there and let him browbeat Armi.
“I hope you don’t mind that I added you to the meetings.”
“N-no. I don’t, but…” He bit his full lower lip. “I didn’t have a chance to look at what the meetings were about, and I don’t want to look unprepared. Would you mind…”
“Do you want me to come with you? I’ve read some of the financial reports and made some notes for you.”
“You did? You’d do that?”
Armi’s stunned expression was confirmation that the stories were all true. No one had ever stepped up for Armi. And that was fucking sad. A wrong that needed to be made right.
“Of course. It’s part of my job.”
It wasn’t part of his job or his nature, however, to want to put his arms around someone to give them a hug, but that vulnerability hit him like a sucker punch to his jaw. He needed to shut that down immediately. He wasn’t anyone’s pillow to provide comfort.
Armi’s eyes lit up, the relief in his body language palpable. “Thanks, Hayden. I appreciate it.” A slight flush rose to his cheeks. “I’m really glad you’re working here.”
Hayden gave him a brief smile. “I’d better go get ready.” He escaped to his desk.
This might not be as easy as he’d first thought. Unlike at Kunoff Shipping, where he’d finish his workload and afterward clear his mind of Boris Kunoff until the following morning, Hayden had a feeling he’d be thinking a lot about Armand Winters, day and night.