Chapter 2
2
LEO
B riar Crosby is the opposite of sunshine. She’s an ice queen. At least, she is around me. I’ve seen her smile. Mainly at Elara and Owen. She seems to have become good friends with my sister as well, ever since she moved here a couple of months ago.
She was living outside of the city before deciding it was best if she and Elara had their own place here. Owen had tried to help her get a place, but in typical Briar fashion she had blown him off, finding a place before he was even able to offer. He had come over to my place afterwards, fuming. I had thought it was badass.
Briar follows her own rules. That much I know.
My phone rings as I sit the box of pizza on my counter, and I stare at it, wondering if I should answer.
Answer the Goddamn phone! An angry text reads the second it’s done ringing.
Edward, my publicist, has been less than thrilled with me lately, and I don’t blame him. I keep fucking up. Making more work for them. Why? I don’t know.
Why not ?
I just want to live my life in peace. Why does the country care who I’m with at three in the morning?
Just as I’m about to turn away, another text comes in. Did you pick up your suit for the dinner? Owen asks. He knows I never remember.
Obviously, I haven’t yet.
I also haven’t answered the podcaster I definitely accidentally skipped out on the other day, or the radio station who’s been hounding me for an interview for the last couple of weeks. Edward keeps telling me I have to do these things. It’ll be good for my image.
But I just don’t have time. And I don’t want to. I have things to do. Like brush my hair.
Trudging over to my couch, I flop down before tossing my head back on the cushion. The twilight sky out my window casts the most gorgeous pinks and yellows across the inner harbor.
I sit there for a long time. Not a thought running through my mind. It’s not until the sun is set completely that I break free from my trance, the room dark except for the subtle glow from the aquarium across the way.
The sunsets have always looked amazing from here. It’s part of the reason I got this place. There was no other view I wanted. No other view my sister deserved. The second I bought my place, I was trying to convince her to move into the place next door. She’s always been so talented. I knew the sunsets would be inspiring.
I’m proud of how far she’s come.
I’m about to get up when I hear a soft knocking, and for a second I think Isla and Owen may be getting weird next door, and I gag. But the closer I listen, the more I think it’s coming from the hallway.
Heading for the door, I have to mentally smack my hand to not grab my sister’s spare key. I only have a little longer with them, may as well annoy her until then, right ?
But when I open my door I realize it’s not Isla making the noise. It’s not Owen, or any of our neighbors.
It’s Briar, with Elara in tow.
She looks stressed, her blonde hair thrown up in a messy ponytail, her black dress not quite sitting right on her. Her makeup looks half done, like she’s been doing what she can on the go.
She stands in front of my sister’s door, her hand outstretched to knock again. I lean against my door frame as we lock eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.
As she opens her mouth to say something to me—likely fuck off, Leo— her daughter beats her to it.
“Hi Leo!” she calls, her big brown eyes sparkly.
“Trying to have some late night Aunt Isla time?” I ask her with a smile.
She purses her lips, her eyes flickering up to her mom before she shrugs.
“I had something come up,” she snaps, but I can tell that she’s stressed. More than stressed, she’s panicked.
I take another look at her outfit. A black cocktail dress with a deep neckline, cinched at the waist before flowing over her gorgeous hips. My eyes linger on her gorgeous, muscular legs before drifting down to her black heels.
“A date?” I ask shortly.
She scoffs, knocking once more on my sister’s door. “Fuck you, Leo.”
“Mom!” Elara gasps. “You told me I was not allowed to say fuck.”
“And here you are, saying it,” Briar sighs dramatically, closing her eyes.
“I don’t think they’re home,” I tell her finally, realizing how truly tired she seems.
She doesn’t open her eyes, but I watch as she bites the inside of her cheek, her shoulders slumping.
“Briar, what's going on? ”
Her eyes meet mine, warm as honey, and I instantly melt.
I always do.
Briar Crosby may be an ice queen, but her eyes are my ultimate weakness.
“I —” she begins, but tosses her hands up.
“We don’t have hot water,” Elara says finally, crossing her arms.
“Our landlord was supposed to fix it,” Briar says quickly. “But they haven’t. Of course. We need to move to a better place, but I need a job first, and I had a place offer to hire me on and off, but it’s this fancy wine bar and the shifts are pretty late at night. They wanted me there tonight.”
The first thing I thought was why the hell does she need a job? Doesn’t she have one? Or wouldn’t Owen give her money? I know she’s divorced, but I don’t know the details of it. Couldn’t she bring Elara there?
“You’re telling me you need a whole other job in order to afford a place with working water?” I deadpan, uncrossing my arms and running a hand through my hair.
“Dad doesn’t give her much,” Elara says, and her mom rears back, hurt on her face.
I’m not really one for kids. They’re not really my thing. But even I can admit that a kid knowing that is heartbreaking.
Instead of arguing with her, or even telling her that she’s wrong, Briar looks at me, her eyes brimming with tears.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Briar cry. Never thought it was possible.
And I’m not going to.
Reaching out, I put my hand on her shoulder, directing them through my door.
“What are you doing?” she hisses, her tears instantly drying as annoyance surges inside her.
“Please just cooperate, just this one time,” I ask, closing the door behind them.
“Wow, you’re rich,” Elara whispers, looking around .
I don’t think that my place looks that crazy, but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t look impressive, especially for a kid.
She walks over to the kitchen island, running her hand along the sleek silver lining it. “Like a spaceship,” she says, her eyes wide as she looks around.
“What do you want, Leo?” Briar turns to me, a frown on her pretty face as she places her arms over her chest.
“I want you to tell me why you need a second job to get housing.”
“I have housing.”
“Good housing. With hot water.”
“And a working toilet,” Elara says, much to her mother’s dismay.
My eyes widen as I stare at Briar.
“That’s also a new development,” she huffs. “Elara, honey, take my phone and go into the family room please.”
“I can play games?”
“Yes, Pumpkin, play whatever games you want. Just let us talk for a few minutes, okay?”
She doesn’t have to ask twice. With a nod of her little blonde head, Elara is off running with her mom’s phone, already unlocked and ready to go. She tosses herself onto my couch, looking like a small potato compared to the size of it, and after a second her head appears over the back of it.
“This feels like a frickin cloud!” she yells.
“We don’t say that word!” Briar groans.
“I thought it was f?—”
“We don’t say any of those words!”
Elara rolls her eyes and disappears once more.
Trying to hide my smile, I gesture for her to sit at my counter and when she does without a fight, I consider it a win.
“Why?” I ask.
Her eyes sear into mine, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Not that I usually can, but she usually gives some sort of hint. She’s usually angry. But here, there’s nothing.
“My ex won’t let me get a job.”
I try hard to keep my anger at bay. “What do you mean by won’t.”
“Won’t as in he sabotages it every time.”
“Why would he do that?”
She shrugs. “He wants control.”
I’ve known of men who do that, and I hate it. Had one of our rookies do it to someone. I corrected him real quick.
“So this job isn’t going to last long, is it?”
She shakes her head, no emotion in her eyes. She doesn’t blink. The little bit of emotion I saw in the hall is gone. Briar Crosby is a brick wall.
“I want you to work for me,” I blurt, mentally slapping myself in the face the second it’s out of my mouth.
“No.”
“Wait a second and listen to me,” I roll my eyes. “I need a personal assistant. Someone who can help me organize my life. Keep things in line. I just need that. It’s not full time. Very part time. And I’ll pay you like you work full time. A very good full time job, might I add.”
She scowls. “I don’t need your charity,”
I level her with a stare, crossing my own arms over my chest. “I’m suspecting Owen doesn’t know a thing about any of this?”
She quirks a brow but says nothing, her shoulders setting.
“You’re too proud to ask him to help you. I’m too proud to hire someone just because I need help. I help you, you help me. We both feel like we’re doing something good for ourselves.”
“I don’t want to move just yet,” she says finally, her fingers curling into fists.
“You don’t have to. I have guest rooms. If your place is having issues, I’ll give you a key. Just come here and crash with Elara.”
Her eyes narrow, her jaw setting.
“I won’t have anyone over while you’re here. And there’s locks on the doors. You guys can share a room and lock the door.”
She may think I’m an asshole, but I want her to feel safe. I’m not a threat, but I’m not stupid. I’m a very large man, and a rich one at that. One that could get away with most things.
Except leaving a bar with a woman, apparently.
Men like me get away with lots of horrible things. I get when people are nervous.
“You can think about it if you’d like.”
She looks behind her, watching as Elara stands on my couch, her mom’s phone in her hand, singing a song.
“I don’t want to tell Owen right now.”
I nod. “That’s fine, but you need to tell him at some point. I’m not having him catch you coming into my home and beating the crap out of me.” A small part of me is curious about why she doesn’t want to tell him, but as nosy as I am, I don’t want to scare her off.
She shoots me a look, her eyes drifting over my shoulders.
Owen is a big guy, but nowhere near as big as I am. As one of the biggest quarterbacks in the league, my size and the way I run the ball being unnatural is a talking point every single year.
Owen is my best friend, but there’s no world in which he wins in a fight with me.
“So you’re not trying to get revenge on my brother?”
I roll my eyes. “No, I’m not trying to,” my eyes flicker to Elara quickly, remembering she’s here. “I’m not trying to fuck you,” I whisper with an eye roll.
Her eyes thin as she studies my face, her nose scrunching so faintly I almost miss it. After what feels like five minutes, her eyes lower, her white teeth biting into her bottom lip as she rolls her shoulders. “Can I have a couple days to think about it?” she asks.
“Yes.”
Her shoulders slump as she sighs, her hands fidgeting in front of her.
“Briar, I promise I’m not trying to pull one over on you or anyone. I don’t want to deal with hiring someone, or dealing with any idiot my team hires for me.”
A smirk graces her lips but is gone as fast as it came. “You have been a little out of control lately,” she tells me.
My jaw ticks.
“What I’m trying to say is you don’t have to go to that job tonight. You don’t have to worry about finding something else. You don’t even have to worry about your ex-husband.”
Her brown eyes meet mine, sparkling with something I can’t quite place. “He’s going to reach out to you, you know that, right? And if it’s not you, he probably knows someone associated with your team. If he finds out I’m working for you he’s going to try to make issues.”
“Then I’ll deal with that when it happens. He’s not going to get very far. If you haven’t heard, I’m a little bit of a hard head.”
Studying my face, I watch as she relaxes once more. Or, as relaxed as Briar Crosby can be.
But a second later she’s rigid again. “I think we should set some ground rules,” she tells me firmly.
I nod, crossing my arms across my chest. “Whatever you want.”
“Can I swing by tomorrow to discuss?”
I watch as Elara flings herself against the back of my couch, letting out a loud yawn. “You guys are going back to your place? Even with issues?”
Briar’s lips tighten as she looks back at her daughter as she pulls the small blanket off the back of my couch, holding it under her chin as she stares at the phone .
Her shoulders slumping in defeat, Briar looks up at me from under her eyelashes, and it’s the first time I really see how tired she is. The circles under her eyes, the way she carries herself. She’s exhausted.
“Last room on the left. Best room in the house.”
“Leo I’m not?—”
“Other than my room,” I tell her with a wink.
“There it is.”