Chapter 3
Chapter three
Lucia
Lucia was reluctant to admit that she liked anything about her new situation, but even she could agree that Charleston was beautiful.
Where Richmond embraced industrial vibes, Charleston exuded coastal relaxation with moss-draped charm.
An overzealous intern led her from Sabertooths Walk, a long, tree-lined pathway with twin sabertooth sculptures at the end of it, to Sabertooths Plaza, a large square in front of the entrance to the stadium.
He spoke rapidly about the game day atmosphere, the smells of local food vendors who would set up shop in the plaza, and the sounds of the great stadium. It made her miss Vipers game days.
Adjacent to the stadium were the practice fields, surrounded by the training facility and offices, a perk that the Vipers did not share. She hated to concede that she liked the idea of her office being so close to the stadium.
She’d been told to come in before Wednesday’s practice to meet the staff and Colton, and to watch him in action before coming up with a plan.
As if she hadn’t already watched his film from the past two games of the season—and, god, were they rough.
She hadn’t mentioned that she’d met him a couple of times in college, and not one interaction had been pretty.
She was sure they hadn’t mentioned her by name to Colton, and even more positive that, if they had, he would’ve refused to work with her.
The collar of her blazer dug into her neck, and she readjusted, cursing herself for even wearing one when the August sun was still beating down in South Carolina.
Her button-down was likely already showing sweat stains, so she couldn’t even take the damned thing off.
At least her skirt, though tight, allowed for a breeze to cool her lower half.
People were turning to watch as her heels clacked on the concrete, so she stopped adjusting and plastered a smile on her face.
The air that hit her as she entered the first floor of the training facility cooled her in an instant.
The man at the desk that faced the tall entrance doors stood as Lucia took in the trophies and display jerseys encased in glass before her.
When he saw the intern, he waved them through to the elevators.
“You’ll be meeting the team on the seventh floor, Ms. Moretti.”
“Thank you both,” she murmured, pressing the button and watching the intern and receptionist disappear behind tall, metal elevator doors. The back wall of the elevator was a pane of glass that looked out over the facility, and she took a moment to glance over the meticulously maintained fields.
When the doors opened, she followed the loud voices coming from a large room to the right.
Shouting quieted at the sound of her heels, and she wondered if she’d ever get used to walking into a room full of men.
She was a woman—albeit a woman uniquely qualified to rectify their quarterback’s slump—in a male-dominated industry.
An unforgiving industry that only considered a woman successful if she accomplished more than men in the same position.
A smile curved her mouth. She didn’t have to like Colton Beaumont—and all signs pointed to the fact that she wouldn’t, not after the hell he’d made her life in Los Angeles—but she would work with him.
Her success in this industry depended upon it.
And he needed her as badly as she needed him—or rather, this job.
She took a deep breath and stepped into the now-quiet boardroom, noting that she was, unsurprisingly, the only woman. The eyes of the Charleston coaches and analysts rested on her and her alone. She was proud of the achievements that had gotten her to this point, her head held high, confident.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
And there was the thorn in her side, standing in the middle of them all.
His dark hair was styled better than it had been in college, though that signature scowl hadn’t changed.
His olive skin was a little lighter without the Los Angeles sun, and his face was clean-shaven.
He’d always been handsome, but she’d remembered him as a college boy, and now, he was clearly a man.
A green Sabers T-shirt clung to a well-muscled chest, and she averted her eyes at the sight of him in glorious gray sweatpants.
Glorious? No. That would not do at all.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Tell me this is a fucking joke. Coach? Is this a joke?” His eyes never left her. She stifled a gulp as they traveled down her body and then back up, stopping at the strip of exposed skin above her buttoned blazer before flicking back up to her face.
A middle-aged man stepped forward, eyebrows furrowed as he looked between the two.
She knew from the film she’d already reviewed that he was the Sabertooths’ head coach, Mark Turner.
“Team, this is Lucia Moretti. She is the creator of GameFlow Analytics”—that garnered a mumble or two between the men before they quieted at the coach’s look—“and she left the Vipers to work with us. She will be doing general analytics as well as helping Colton. Lucia will be an asset to all of us.”
“Hello. Excited to join the team,” she lied through the smile on her face.
“Coach, come on. I can’t—”
“Do you two know each other?”
“Yes—”
“No,” she said coolly. “I went to school in Los Angeles too, so we ran in the same circles, but no,” she said again, firmly.
She and Max had gone to Lincoln University, while Colton had played for Crestview College. The two schools had always been crosstown rivals, but she’d felt it firsthand when she’d begun dating Max, who absolutely despised Colton.
“Colton, she’s currently developing software specifically for quarterbacks. If there’s an analyst who’ll be able to help you figure out your numbers, it’s Lucia.”
Lucia stared Colton down, her own confident smirk on her lips, daring him to protest working with her.
Finally, he turned from her, focusing on his coach. “This can’t be the only way. I’ll work with any other analyst. Anybody but her.”
She should’ve felt humiliated at his rejection in front of this group of men, but instead, she was incensed. He talked like he was above her, and she’d worked her ass off for nine years to be here.
Unclench your teeth, you’ve had too much dental work for that, she reminded herself.
“You said you’d try anything to keep your spot and prove you want to be on this team. This is anything. You’ll start working with Lucia this week, and we’ll see how you improve for regular season.”
His words left no room for argument. Coaches began filing out of the room, a couple of them nodding at her as they left, though most ignored her. She wasn’t surprised.
Colton didn’t move, a glare hardening his face. He waited until everyone was gone before speaking quietly.
“How do we even know you and Clark are really over? For all we know, you’re here to learn our playbook and take it back to the Vipers.”
That, she had not been expecting. The reminder of her ex-fiancé, whose calls she was still dodging a week later, took her by surprise.
“If I wanted to take your playbook, all I’d have to do is study your film for a few games and write some code.”
“If you’re so good, then why haven’t the Vipers won a championship since you graced them with your presence?”
“What the coaches decide to implement, regardless of my warnings, is not up to me. I do my job, provide my recommendations, and my sway ends there.”
“How was Clark after I won? Was he pissed? Fuming?”
Lucia twirled the ring around her right middle finger as the conversation once again found its way to the disaster that was her love life. “Can we not talk about the man who cheated on me publicly and then inadvertently got me fired?”
Colton’s eyes narrowed. “Fired? Coach just said you chose to take this job over your job with the Vipers.”
She raised her chin, growing tired of his asinine line of questioning. “I chose this job when it was clear to me that I would lose my job with the Vipers.”
He stepped closer, pulling his hands from the pockets of his sweatpants. For a moment, his arms flexed, and she watched the veins in his hands, her breath leaving her before she forced her eyes back to his.
“This whole firing business and you not being truthful about your means of getting here makes me think I’m right about you. Maybe it’s all a ploy to pull a fast one on the reigning champions.”
Lucia scoffed, “You’re awfully paranoid for someone who can’t even string together a good enough drive to prevent three and out after three and out.
Does your punter ever get tired?” The surprise on his face added fuel to her fire.
“And what would I even gain from lying about everything and being publicly humiliated like that?”
“I don’t know, Moretti. What did you gain from having your best friend sleep with my tight end for a few months just to win a college rivalry game?”
She stepped back like she’d been slapped. What was he talking about? Who was he talking about? Isa? She remembered her dating a Crestview player their junior year—before Isa realized she liked girls more—but Lucia didn’t know what he was talking about.
His jaw set tightly. “See, you can’t even deny it. Clark told me all about it after the game anyway.” He shook his head once, angrily, stepping past her on his way out of the room. The arm that brushed hers was strong, and it was quite an effort not to step to the side to stabilize herself.
Almost dejectedly, he called over his shoulder, “See you after practice.”
Unsurprisingly, Colton had found an excuse to get out of meeting with her after practice that afternoon, but that was fine. She’d gotten to go home early and wallow in the misery that was her new life.