Chapter 8
. . .
Drew
Thanks to an unruly client who is incapable of following basic instructions, I already know my weekly check-in with Colton will be difficult.
One social media post in two weeks. That’s all I’ve managed to achieve with Will, who prioritized his sexual conquest above the meeting he was supposed to have with me.
I thought controlling his erratic behavior would be straightforward and I’d be the last person he would screw around. Evidently, I was mistaken.
Will is a law unto himself, and everyone else is merely a spectator.
Yet, despite all of the above, I’m struggling to be mad at him, and that, in itself, makes me more infuriated. Perhaps I’m giving him more leeway based on our past, or maybe I’m not cut out for this job at all. A client has never tested me—or my patience—to this degree.
I thought Will had more respect for me and my career.
“So …” Colton opens the conversation with an ominous tone. He clearly has about as much faith in me taming the Rogues rookie as I do. “How’re things going with Will? I saw his post about joining the Rogues.” Colton bites down on his bottom lip. “Or should I say, your post on his behalf?”
Heat invades my entire body. I knew the caption wasn’t reflective of Will’s voice, but he left me with no choice. The regular season is only weeks from starting, and he had to make a statement to the fans.
“Everything is shaping up fine,” I lie, hoping that Colton will buy it.
He doesn’t, quirking a questionable brow.
“How about his events calendar? I’d like to see him attend at least two galas this season.”
I shift in my seat. “We haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“Hmm …” Colton swipes a palm across his mouth. “Can you handle him?”
I sit up straighter, shoulders back and voice more assured when I respond, “Who, Will?” Waving away my boss’s uncertainty with a hand, I tag on a small chuckle. “Sure. He’s been preoccupied with the preseason, but we’re strategizing, and I have a meeting at his place tonight.”
I absolutely do not have a meeting with him tonight.
Colton looks and sounds more positive when he says, “Great. Let’s step up social media posts to every other day during the rest of September and go from there. Right now, general public consensus is, he’s not showing his excitement over joining the Rogues, and that needs to change. Stat.”
I nod in agreement and pull out my phone when Lydia knocks on the door and strides into the meeting room like we weren’t just having a private discussion.
She’s wearing a white blouse and black dress pants, hair styled into a short, dark bob.
We exchange a glance before I drop my eyes and zone out of whatever crap she’s spinning for Colton’s benefit.
Lydia has kissed our boss’s ass since the day I joined First Line, talking a great game when, really, she wouldn’t know how to build a client’s profile if an instruction manual hit her in the face.
Me
I need to meet you tonight.
Will’s response is almost immediate, and it fills me with hope that the ass-kicking I gave him on Saturday night actually resonated.
Will
You scare me when you send messages like that.
Me
Why?
Will
I’ve never had someone boss me around before.
Me
Um … your mom is Kate Jones. She bosses people around for a living.
Will
Okay, I’ll rephrase. I’ve never had someone boss me around and I paid attention to what they said.
That pulls a smile from me.
Me
Well, get used to it, Jones, because I need to sit down with you tonight and finalize your schedule for at least the next six months.
Will
Shall I cook you dinner?
I have no idea how to respond. I haven’t even thought about eating beyond the lunch sitting in the refrigerator, which I’ll likely ignore in favor of working through my break.
Me
Wait. Can you actually cook? I figured you had a private chef.
Will
Why would you assume that?
Me
Because I can’t imagine you carrying out domestic duties.
Will
Maybe you don’t know me all that well then.
Me
What time should I stop by?
Will
I’ll be finished in the gym by 6 p.m., so let’s say 7?
Me
I’ll send a calendar invite.
Will
Drew, it’s literally six hours from now. We don’t need an email to confirm.
Me
Actually, we do. This isn’t a social visit, even if you are cooking dinner. And once again, the location of our meeting is in direct breach of rule two.
And I’m already mentally cycling through my wardrobe for an outfit.
Will
Shall I wear a suit?
When an involuntary bubble of laughter escapes my throat, Colton and Lydia pause their conversation and look at me.
“Sorry,” I say on a wince. “I was just checking the football scores. Detroit rolled over Pittsburg.”
Lydia’s brows pull together before she shakes her head. “Some people find the strangest things amusing.”
Fuck off, Lydia.
Me
Regular clothes will do just fine.
Will
There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
Me
Huh?
Will
What you just said—no woman has ever specifically requested for me to wear regular clothes when coming over to my place for the night.
I blush even though I shouldn’t because this is classic Will Jones behavior.
Me
I don’t want to know the details of what kinky outfits your conquests make you wear. Should I add that to our list of rules?
Will
No need. Generally speaking, they prefer me naked.
I’m not sure how to describe the sound that leaves me next, but it’s entirely not appropriate for the workplace.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Drew?” Colton asks.
Lydia’s eyes are now rolling into the back of her head at my display.
“Huh?” I look up from my phone, and his eyes drop to the screen.
Shit. He’d better not be good at reading upside down.
I point to my phone, angling the screen away from them both. “Will can meet me tonight.”
“Shouldn’t you be setting up a meeting via email rather than over text?”
I hate Lydia and her constant need to make me look like an idiot.
Locking my cell, I set it face down on the table and look her straight in the eyes. “I guess that depends on the relationship you have with your client. I personally believe that sacrificing a few formalities opens up an otherwise stilted exchange and puts the client at ease around you.”
She scowls, and I grin back at her.
“So long as you’re both clear on boundaries,” she bites back.
Colton must sense the rising tension, as he cuts into our exchange. “I think you both make valid points, although I have no doubt about Drew’s professionalism. It’s important that she leans into her friendship with Will.”
Lydia gives Colton a muted smile and spins on her heel, making for the exit as I get back to my text conversation with Will.
Me
You know what? Cancel dinner. I’ve lost my appetite at thoughts of you naked.
Will
The lady doth protest too much. I’ll make you something really special.
Me
Ugh, okay. Anything to massage your huge ego. So long as we get done what we need to.
Will
Massaging my huge ego … the number of ways I could respond to that.
Me
Shut it.
Ten minutes later, I’m back at my desk when my phone pings again.
Will
I’m at the grocery store. What wine do you like?
Me
How many business meetings have you been to where they drink wine?
Will
None. But that’s only because they weren’t hosted by yours truly.
Me
I’ll take a club soda.
Will
Boring. I’ll get a bottle of Chardonnay.
Me
Do you ever listen to what anyone says?
Will
Only if they aren’t talking shit.
Me
I don’t want any wine, but I could go for a slice of Key lime pie with vanilla ice cream.
Will
Your sugar addiction is out of control.
Me
Treat yourself, William. You know you want to.
Will
Six months of working with you, and I’ll perfect my public persona, but be the size of a freaking apartment block. Do you know how many years it took me to carve this physique?
Me
That’s a problem for your dietician. Not your publicist.
Will
Let me send you a picture of my body so you can see how hard I’ve worked on it.
Me
Rule ten: The client is not, under any circumstances, to EVER send naked photos to his publicist.
Will
What if I cover my dick with a hand?
Me
ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.
“You and Will sure do like texting a lot.”
I have zero idea how long Lydia has been standing behind me, but as she props her bitchy ass on the corner of my desk and I casually lock my phone and set it screen down next to me, I wish she would disappear underground and never return.
“We have a lot to talk about,” I reply. “And like I said, building a good rapport with your clients is the key to long-term success.”
She twists her lips in thought, and I just know some of her bright pink lipstick will be on her teeth. It always is.
“Colton really gave you your big break, assigning Will to your management. Add in the fact that you’re his coach’s daughter, and I guess the stakes are set really high for you to tame the wild rookie.”
I shake my head and shoot Will the calendar invite he was convinced we didn’t need.
“I’m not trying to tame anyone. I’m here to help Will maximize his potential.”
She scoffs, and my patience with this woman wears a little thinner.
“Girl, I hate to break it to you, but that guy is a lost cause. No one is capable of turning him into a responsible public figure.”
If jealousy had a face, I’d be looking at it right now.
“Did you want Will as a client and missed out?”
Her jaw pops open as she slides off the table and stands up straight.
“Let’s be really real here, Drew.” Lydia plants a palm on my desk and leans in so only I can hear her next words.
“Colton only gave you Will because of who your dad is and not because of your extensive experience in the PR field.”
Of all the responses Lydia could’ve given me, weaponizing my dad’s position in hockey and turning it against me was the worst possible outcome.
“Let me make a suggestion, Lydia.” I drop my voice and narrow my eyes at her.
“How about you work on retaining the clients in your portfolio?” I lean in a little closer.
“And I’ll focus on working with one of the nicest guys in hockey with an even brighter future.
” I clear my throat, hating that people view Will as a lost cause when he’s anything but that.
“And I would appreciate it if you never spoke about my client like that ever again.”