Chapter Seventeen
Standing at the signing, Hayden felt like a proud parent. Not that he’d ever know what having kids would be like, but seeing Armi next to Masterson, his face bright with that sweet smile, made Hayden so damn happy. His stomach fluttered.
They’d done it—Masterson was signed, and the papers had forgotten all about the nasty article. Today the sports pages couldn’t heap enough praise on the Kings and their leadership. The press crowded into the space, and with satisfaction, Hayden saw Price not up front in his usual position, but at the far edge of the room, his face granite-hard with anger.
“What the hell did he expect?” If it were up to Hayden, Price wouldn’t have been allowed at the press conference at all.
“We’ll take some questions now,” Russell stated, and Hayden frowned.
Why the hell did Armi allow Russell to take over? But he kept his eyes and ears open, planning to take notes on who treated Armi well and who was there for a hatchet job.
“Yes, Morty Unger for Sports Today . Do you think that with the addition of Masterson and Hopkins, the Kings have enough power to overcome the other deficiencies in their roster?”
Armi frowned, and Hayden started his fuck-off-and-die list of press people.
“I think—” Armi began, but Russell cut him off.
“We’re stronger than ever now, and these two new superstars are only going to make us more tenacious as we make our run for the Super Bowl.”
“Dorothy Harwood for USA Sports News . This question is for Milo Masterson. Why did you pick the Kings when we heard you had bigger and better offers from other teams, including last year’s Super Bowl champs?”
The big man stepped forward and adjusted the Kings cap. “Well, see, I’ve had my Super Bowl wins already. I wanted a team that gave me a feeling of family. Not to say I don’t like a fat bank account because I do. Momma didn’t raise no fool.” He waited for the laughter to die down. “But after meetin’ with all the other teams, I felt a connection to the Kings and their owner. Armand Winters might be new at this, but I think he’s got his heart in the team.” His eyes twinkled. “Plus, he’s made my bride very happy, and that means everythin’ to me.”
Armi’s cheeks turned pink.
“What did he do? Mr. Winters, do you care to let us in on your secret?”
Armi stepped forward. “Well, I took the old adage ‘Say it with flowers’ and turned it up a notch.”
Hayden snickered and nodded to himself. Armi was learning.
Russell leaned in. “We’re making sure Milo has whatever he needs to be happy here.” His gaze searched the crowd, and a hand shot up.
“Jack West from Team Rainbow . This question is for Mr. Winters. Have you received any negative feedback from being an out gay owner of a football team, and to follow up, do you think being a gay owner of a football team is going to hurt or help the Kings?”
“Asshole,” Hayden swore. “What the fuck does that have to do with the signing?” His eyes narrowed as Russell spoke.
“I don’t think this is the appropriate venue for a question like that.”
But the reporter wasn’t about to give up. “I’d like to hear that from Mr. Winters.”
All eyes shifted to Armi, and Hayden could see how overwhelmed Armi was. He hated all the attention on him, and Hayden ached that he could do nothing to help.
“I-I don’t mind answering, but this is a press conference for Milo Masterson and the great addition he’ll make to the Kings.” He paused, and Hayden willed him to meet his eyes from across the room. Hoping to get Armi’s attention, he coughed, and their gazes locked. Hayden smiled and nodded.
“You can do it,” he whispered. “You’ve got this.”
As if he’d heard Hayden, Armi straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. Goddamn, he was so proud of him.
“In the coming weeks, I’ll be speaking more about it, but for now all I can say is I’m not the one playing, and you should be thankful for that.” A few chuckles went around the room. “The team is only as good as the sum of its players and the respect they have for the coaching staff. I’m merely the conduit to get the Kings the best roster of players to achieve our goal. My personal life should have zero impact on the team’s efforts on the field. That’s all. Thank you.”
“Next question for Milo?”
“Dixon Beyard, USPN . Milo, how do you feel about what Armand Winters just said? Do you think it will have any impact on the team?”
“Listen. I’m just here to play ball, not get involved in any political statement. What the owner just stated sounds good to me. I’m gonna give a thousand percent to the team and the fans so we can bring back a Super Bowl win to New York. I wanna have a parade down Broadway, and I’m gonna do my damnedest to make sure we get it.”
“That’s all for today, everyone.” Russell took the microphone as Milo left the staging area with his agent. Hayden kept an eye on Armi, who shook Milo’s hand and then slipped away. “Thanks for coming, and we’ll see you for the first home game in September.”
With the crowd dispersed, Hayden took off after Armi, knowing the introvert in him had been through enough for the day. But still, this called for a celebration. Upon his return to his desk, Armi stood waiting.
“Take the rest of the day off, Hayden. You deserve it. Everything you did today to help me worked out perfectly. Thank you.”
God, he was so fucking sweet and sincere. “I’m good. I don’t want the day off.” He laughed and rubbed his chin. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Besides, I’m expecting a call back from the guy from Out in Sports for that interview.”
“Then let me take you to dinner, at least. I want you to know how much I appreciate you.”
“You don’t have to.” He could picture them together. A small table. Candlelight. Intimate conversation. Dammit . He wanted it. Yearned for it.
“I know,” Armi said with an almost cocky grin. “But I’m the boss. And I insist. I’ll let you know when and where.”
He blinked, that teasing side of Armi wholly unexpected but so enticing.
“Uh, okay, thank you.”
All laughter aside, Armi put a hand on his shoulder. “I owe you, Hayden. Masterson loved the rosebushes for his wife. That personal touch sealed the deal.”
“I’m happy if you’re happy.” The phone rang, but Armi’s hand still rested on his shoulder. “I’d better get that.” He reached over and took the phone. “Mr. Winters’s office. How may I help you?”
“This is Steve Fontana with Out in Sports . I think I spoke with you last week?”
“Yes, Mr. Fontana. I’m Mr. Winters’s assistant, Hayden. We were waiting for a call to schedule your interview.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Things got out of control here for a few days. I’d hoped to come do the interview myself, but that won’t be possible now, so I’m going to send my second, Shane Daniels, in my stead. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course. Mr. Winters is looking forward to speaking with your magazine and telling his story.”
“Especially after today. That was quite a coup to grab Milo Masterson. I watched the press conference.”
“Then you’ll hear more of the same from Mr. Winters.”
Fontana’s laugh boomed in his ear. “How is next Monday at noon?”
He checked Armi’s calendar. “I’ll put you in and make it a lunch meeting.”
“Shane will be happy.”
“We aim to please.”
“I have to say, you’re a great cheerleader for your boss. Maybe we should interview you as well.”
He met Armi’s eyes. “I am when I believe in someone. And I’m pretty boring. There’s nothing interesting about me.”
**
The week sped by, and Hayden found himself busier than he had ever been while working for Boris. He and Armi sat together with the publicity team and came up with sound bites and quotes they could send out to the media and national press. There were phone calls with other owners, which Armi asked him to be present for. An appearance with the team, which had started pre-season practice, and more interviews with the press. Hayden could see Armi’s confidence growing with each day, but still, whenever he came face-to-face with Russell and the other members of the Kings’ inner circle, he wilted like a week-old rose.
Saturday, lying on his couch, checking social media for any mention of the Kings, he received a text from Armi.
Do you have plans for dinner tonight? Sorry it’s spur-of-the-moment. I’ve been meaning to ask you all week, but it’s been so busy.
That was so like him. Always apologizing.
Sure. What time and where?
Le Bernardin at 8?
Hayden’s breath caught. One of the best restaurants in the world and the hardest reservation to get—near impossible on the same day. Unless you came from the world of Armi Winters, where money and status talked.
Hayden? U there?
Yeah. Meet u there.
No. I’ll pick you up.
Hayden scrambled to his feet. He’d sent all his shirts to the cleaners along with his three suits, and they weren’t supposed to be delivered until tomorrow. He needed to make a clothing run and fast.
“Next stop, Bloomies.”
He managed to find a decent suit on sale, and he could always use another white shirt. His one splurge was a nice tie, and he dug through the designer sale rack and picked out a bright-green silk.
“Just like your eyes,” the sales associate cooed. “Such a pretty green.”
“Thanks.” He took the shopping bags from the man.
“Hot date?”
He thought for a moment. “No. Dinner with my boss.”
“Could be the same thing.” A knowing grin tugged at the salesman’s lips.
“No. It’s definitely not.”
Hayden rushed home, dropped off his shopping bags, and left immediately to get a manicure. No handling the forks and knives with scraggly cuticles. He might not’ve come from much, but he did have some standards.
At seven thirty Armi texted him.
I’m downstairs.
He gave one final glance in his mirror and laughed at himself. Hadn’t he already told the salesperson he wasn’t going on a date? Shaking his head at his foolishness, he left the apartment.
Armi opened the car door for him.
“You look nice.” Armi gazed at him, and Hayden couldn’t help his own lingering gaze. Armi had tamed his tumbling waves, and his freshly shaven face glowed. He smelled delicious.
“So do you.”
Traffic wasn’t a complete snarl, and they made it downtown in less than twenty minutes. The restaurant was as hushed and beautiful as Hayden had imagined. They were seated at a corner table, a small floral bouquet in the center of the snow-white tablecloth. A few moments after they were seated, a waiter approached with a bucket and a bottle of champagne. Hayden spied the label—Dom Pérignon—and then the cork popped.
The most magical evening of his life began.
And when dinner was over—a never-ending tasting menu of fish and seafood—Hayden floated on the rarefied air of incredible food, atmosphere, and conversation. Armi talked about growing up on Long Island and discovering his love for plants. Hayden spoke of his dealing with being gay in a small town. He wished the night never had to end. They left, Armi’s hand in his, and walked to the car. It stopped in front of his apartment, and he wished nothing more than to invite Armi upstairs, but as wonderful as their dinner had been, taking that next step was a bad idea.
“This was so unexpected and amazing. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”
Armi’s eyes sparkled. “I had a great time too. I wanted you to know how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”
Maybe he was a little drunk from the bubbles. That was his excuse, and he was sticking with it. He closed the gap between them and settled his mouth over Armi’s. The sweetness of their dessert couldn’t match the delicious taste of Armi’s tongue, and Hayden sucked it until spots flashed and his vision spun. Armi sighed and shifted closer. With regret, Hayden pulled away, and Armi gazed at him with hazy eyes.
“Thank you for the best night of my life,” Hayden whispered, then fled before he did something stupid, like grab Armi’s hand and pull him upstairs to his bed.
**
“Shit.”
Monday morning. Another rough night, blaming himself for past mistakes and stupidity. Hopefully a shower would clear the cobwebs from his brain.
He’d spent the entire day Sunday in his apartment, preparing for the week ahead, but it was tough going. All he wanted to do was relive the evening with Armi.
And that kiss.
What was it about Armi that turned him inside out? Armi wasn’t his usual type—partying guys who knew better than to think sex meant anything more than a good time.
Who was he kidding?
Armi’s innocence and vulnerability were huge turn-ons. Not to mention his gorgeous face and body. Watching his self-confidence grow was hot as hell, but Hayden still had the urge to protect him whenever that inner circle surrounded him like sharks scenting blood in the water. He’d never had a man overwhelm his senses to the point where the thought of him kissing or being touched by someone else made him want to punch a wall.
Hence, his isolation and sleepless nights. It would take some time to learn how to calm his exterior, because forgetting a man like Armi Winters didn’t happen overnight. Maybe ever.
The fresh bouquet had arrived for Armi’s office, and that week the roses were John F. Kennedy, which boasted rich white petals. Hayden made sure to fill the vase and arrange them properly. For his own desk, he decided on bright yellow—God knew he’d need something to cheer him up.
He finished his first coffee and set out Armi’s cherry turnover. It had taken him three pastry shops to find Armi’s favorite.
“Those are beautiful, thank you.”
Armi stood waiting in the doorway, and Hayden’s cheeks grew warm. Christ, he never blushed. What the hell was up with that? He cleared his throat.
“You’re welcome. If you tell me what else you like, I can make sure to have it for you.”
Armi set his Kings duffel bag on the table. “I’ll like anything you give me.”
Hayden blinked, the double entendre not lost on him. He didn’t banter back but hurried from the room. “Okay, so maybe bagels tomorrow. You’d better get ready for the weekend scouting report. I summarized the notes, sent them to your email, and printed them out.”
“Thanks, Hayden.”
“Not a problem. Don’t forget, lunch today with the Out in Sports guy, Shane Daniels. I sent you the questions I think he’ll ask, as well as points you’ll probably want to get across.”
“I seem to be constantly thanking you.”
Hayden gave him a brief smile. It hurt.
“You don’t have to. Like I said, it’s my job.”
And said job kept him busy as hell, answering calls from news outlets and coordinating with PR for press releases. With the signing of Hopkins and Masterson, Armi had become something of a media darling. His star, which only a week ago had been sputtering, now was on the rise and burning bright.
When the phones quieted, Hayden gulped his now-cold cappuccino and made a face.
“Hayden?”
Cold washed through him, and he froze. Twenty years had passed since he’d last heard that voice, and he’d hoped he’d never have to hear it again.
Today, his luck had run out.
“It is you. I’d recognize that gorgeous face anywhere.”
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t fucking be him.
Hayden raised his gaze to meet the knowing smirk of Shane Michaels, a.k.a. Shane Daniels. The man who’d seen him naked and having sex. The man who held all his secrets.