Chapter 5
Knox pulled into the stadium parking lot early in the morning.
It was game day. He’d been talking to Quinn all week, even if he hadn’t gotten to see her in person.
He knew she would be with Nico today checking on her sports betting program.
He’d asked her to wait for him after the game, but he knew it would depend on what happened with her program.
Knox’s focus shifted the second he opened the door to the stadium. Game day. Time to go to work. He had to be present not only for himself, but for his whole team.
Knox met with his coaches first. Games were getting more important the closer they were to the playoffs.
Each game mattered more. After meeting with the coaches, he met with his offensive line.
Zack Sanders was discussing the defense with them when Knox felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his warm-up joggers.
Good luck today!
“Ooooh, look at that dumbass look on our fearless leader’s face,” Austin called from across the table they were meeting at. “Did someone get a booty call? Is she going to let you do something really dirty if you win?”
Zack practically growled as Knox slipped the text from Quinn back into his pocket and rolled his eyes at Austin. Even with all the things she had going on today, Quinn had thought about him. Damn, that felt good.
“Relax, Sanders. Just because you don’t get any doesn’t mean Everett can’t.” Austin twirled the pen he’d been doodling with over his knuckles like he had no worries. Knox guessed he didn’t, because the game didn’t depend on him at all.
“Just because I’m not immature enough to have to announce each time I get my dick wet doesn’t mean I don’t get any.
It just means I have more respect for the women I’m with.
” Zack could crush Austin in a heartbeat if he wanted, and right now he wasn’t the only one at the table looking as if they wanted to.
“You need to grow up, kid,” Knox told Austin.
“I know you’re used to locker room talk, but in the pros we do things a little differently.
Most of the men here are married or with serious girlfriends.
Also, we’re not teenagers who can’t control ourselves.
Act like you’ve been here before. Now, this is what I want us to see when we hit the field. ”
Knox and his team finished their discussion and it was time for warmups on the field. Austin left them and headed for the wide receivers, who also had a rookie. Deon and Knox shared a parental sigh as the two rookies began to make jerking off motions.
“How’s it going?”
Knox kept his head straight as he headed out of the tunnel and onto the field. “Can we stop signing rookies? Only get seasoned players?”
Knox’s father laughed and slapped him on the back. “Now you know how it feels to parent a spoiled teenager. They’ll learn.”
“Yeah, but maybe not in time for Zack and the rest of the line to block for him if he ever has a play.”
“That bad?” Will wasn’t laughing anymore.
“It’s constant. Austin can’t keep his damn mouth shut and everything is a dirty joke. I don’t think he knows the playbook. Deon’s having the same trouble with Mr. Showboat over there.”
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.”
Knox turned to his father. “How?”
Will smiled slowly and it reminded Knox of when he’d gotten in trouble as a teenager. “The same way your mother and I handled you and Holt when you two got a little too big for your britches. Now, it’s time to put that out of your mind. You have a game to win.”
Quinn took a seat in a leather club chair and looked out from the balcony to the field below.
The players were warming up as the stands were filling.
Her eyes searched the blue uniforms until she found what she was looking for—Knox.
He motioned with his hand and suddenly he was surrounded by the team.
It was clear his teammates listened to him.
It had been the same in college. He was a leader on and off the field and respected by all.
He carried himself with a quiet confidence that people respected.
She’d tried to emulate him when she’d gotten to her job.
But while she knew how to do her job with ease, it was harder to lead a group of men who didn’t respect her.
“What’s the latest?” Nico Saccone had arrived.
He stood wearing a suit that fit his slightly over six-foot frame to perfection.
From what little Quinn knew about him, he was in his mid-30s, of Italian heritage, and a cutthroat businessman.
There were some rumors of ties to the mafia but he treated his employees fairly.
He never played favorites. He promoted those who earned it and fired those who deserved it.
His eyes were hard along with his clean-shaven jaw.
And the watch on his wrist, above the strong hand, was worth more than she made in three months.
“Hello, Mr. Saccone. I’m sorry I couldn’t figure this out,” Quinn said, standing from her chair and grabbing her computer.
“I know you’re trying, Quinn. Do you have what you need for today?” Nico asked, cutting to the chase. Nico had never been a warm, fuzzy kind of guy, but ever since he returned from a recent trip to South Carolina he’d been even colder, more remote.
“I do. I thought I could work behind the scenes and you could keep your eyes and ears open out here to make sure it’s not someone manipulating the system.”
Nico nodded once before heading to the bar to get one of the signature SACC1 drinks.
Quinn headed for the tellers’ cage and swiped her card to get into the secure area behind the counter.
There were four tellers who distributed the winnings and also made the special bets that were only allowed in person.
Quinn accessed each computer and connected them to her laptop.
Four squares popped up on the screen as she accessed their betting program. It was time to get to work.
Quinn’s heart hadn’t stopped pounding. Everything was perfect on her end. Her program was working just as it should. Yet they’d had eight tickets come in that were incorrect.
“Quinn.” The way Nico said her name meant he must have said it at least once before.
Quinn looked up from her computer to find him standing in front of her. “I don’t understand it.”
“Talk to me,” Nico said, walking around to look at the computer from over her shoulder.
“Everything on my end is perfect. No glitch. Yet, we’ve had eight incorrect tickets. I pulled the original bets and nothing is wrong in the coding.”
Nico must have felt her frustration. He placed his hand on her shoulder to get her attention.
“It’s halftime. Leave your computer and let it continue to do its thing.
Let’s go to the box. I want to see if there’s someone who might be able to help.
Tomorrow we will call Sebastian directly and go over your findings with him. ”
Quinn felt her shoulders slump. She hadn’t been able to solve this problem and it was impossible to stop herself from mentally spiraling into failure.
She’d never met Sebastian in all the years she’d worked at SA Tech and now she was going to have to call him, with her tail tucked, and ask for help.
She didn’t even process that she was following Nico into a suite until a hand appeared in her zoned-out view.
“Are you all right?” the hand appeared to ask.
Quinn’s head shot up as she blinked and took in the suite packed with people. Nico was beside her talking to a very regal-looking man, but it was a pregnant woman who stood there with her hand out. “Oh, sorry. I’m Quinn Kennedy.”
She smiled and gave a little laugh. “Yes, that’s what Nico said before talking to my father. I’m Ariana.”
Quinn shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry. I have a work problem on my mind.”
“Ari,” her father said as he and Nico turned toward them, “do you know when Kale gets back from Rahmi?”
“Next week,” Ariana replied before turning back to Quinn. “So, how do you know Nico?”
“He’s my boss.” Quinn dropped her voice and leaned forward. “Wow. Whose suite is this?” Quinn looked around at the full bar with a bartender, tables full of food, leather couches, and then to the leather chairs that were several steps down and overlooking the field.
Ariana seemed amused. “My dad’s and Will Ashton’s. They own the team.”
Quinn looked over to where Nico and the man who must be Mo Ali Rahman stood talking. A third man joined him whom she recognized as Will Ashton. Will was the public owner of the team, but everyone knew Prince Mo was a silent owner, too.
“Oh.” Wait, that meant Ariana was a princess. Did she curtsey?
“Come on. Let’s take a seat and watch the game. Are you a Thoroughbreds fan?”
“I guess. I don’t know much about football. I’m a computer nerd.” Quinn gave a nervous laugh as Ariana showed her to the stairs leading down to the chairs.
“Ah, that makes sense now.”
“It does?”
“Sure. Why else would you be looking for Kale?” Ariana asked.
“To get extra greens in my diet?”
Two women laughed along with Ariana as Quinn took a seat next to them. “These are my sisters-in-law, Mila and Sloane. Ladies, this is Quinn. She works for Nico.”
That got their attention. “What’s he like to work with?” Mila asked. “He’s always so serious.”
“Are you talking about Nico?” Quinn swallowed hard as America’s Sweetheart, none other than Knox Everett’s mom, turned around from her seat in front of Quinn.
“We’ve been talking about him since we met him.
He gives nothing away. Nothing. Like, does he have a girlfriend?
Where does he live? Is he still in the mafia? ”
“Are you going to kick me out if I tell you I have no idea?” Quinn asked, again with a nervous laugh.
“Of course not!” Taylor Everett said before introducing her friends, Dani and Kenna, the wives of Mo and Will. Then suddenly Taylor leapt up and began to scream. “Run, Knox!”
Quinn looked onto the field to see that Knox had tucked the ball to his side and was running as fast as he could through a hole in the line.
A huge man was running right at him, but Knox faked running one way before running the other.
The whole box was standing and yelling for Knox, but Quinn could only hold her breath, her hands clasped tightly as they watched him run.
Fifteen yards later, he slid to the ground to the cheers of the fans.
“Oh my goodness!” Taylor gasped, clutching her chest. “I can’t stand it. Tell me when it’s over.” She turned and faced Quinn as Knox held out his hands, yelled a play, and then caught the snap. “What’s happening?”
“I thought you didn’t want to watch,” Mila teased.
“I don’t, but I need to know what’s happening.”
Quinn couldn’t look away from the field. Knox stood his ground as huge men tried to force their way to him. His eyes scanned the field. She saw him lock onto his target. His arm came back and then he let the ball fly. Quinn inhaled and Taylor grabbed her hand.
“What?”
“He threw the ball,” Quinn managed to say as she watched it sail downfield.
The eruption from the crowd told Taylor that the ball had been caught.
Quinn finally exhaled. “Oh, and the player who caught it is running with the ball! Run, whoever you are, run!” Quinn started to jump up and down as Taylor kept her eyes closed.
Quinn’s heart pounded as if she were on that field running.
“He scored!” Quinn yelled. The energy from the stadium was infectious as the excitement seemed to feed off others’ excitement.
Taylor screamed with happiness and turned around to jump up and down, her arms waving in the air as she celebrated.
The game was now tied. That started the superstition that Taylor had to hold Quinn’s hand and not look every time Knox had the ball.
By the last minute of the game, Quinn felt her whole body tingling with the electric energy zapping through the stadium.
Every time the opposing team scored, Knox would then get the ball back and steadily march his team down the field.
Pretty soon she felt as if she needed to turn away from the action the way Taylor had to.
It was a torment of not wanting to watch in case Knox didn’t score but unable to stand not knowing what was happening that kept her eyes glued to the field.
The one thing Quinn realized—she should have gone to see Knox play in college. This was, without a doubt, the most fun she’d ever had.