Chapter 7 #2
It’s a sea of white-haired men in ill-fitting suits. The blonde bombshell stands out no matter where she goes but even more so being the only woman among her peers who are all at least thirty years her senior.
I’m sure they don’t think they’re being absolute dicks by excluding her, and I can guarantee at least half of them don’t even know the meaning of the word sexist, though they’re the walking definition.
But I know the way some of these guys think.
Fundamentally, they believe that women should stay out of sports.
They’ll do their one female hire to dodge the scrutiny from the public, but it’s never in a higher-up position.
Then in comes Reese, equal on their level and done so without their permission.
She’s got a glass of red wine in her hand and is doing her best to listen and contribute to the conversations around her, and my heart kind of breaks watching her have to try so hard.
Eventually, Reese says something to a group of men, but then, once again, one of them shifts his shoulder slightly to edge her out of the discussion.
She keeps her head held high, not letting anyone notice that being ostracized by her colleagues is bothering her.
But I can tell. I’ve watched it bother her all night.
This must be what happened earlier today and that just fucking sucks.
Once again, Reese checks her surroundings, the same as she’s been doing for the last few hours. There’s this nervous energy about her tonight that’s unnatural to the Reese I’ve been getting to know.
She’s the embodiment of confidence, or at least does a good job of putting on that front. But tonight, even though she’s trying her best to seem self-assured, everything in her body language screams that she’s on edge.
As her eyes track the room, they eventually land on me. Her shoulders drop a hair, but her smile is weak, like she’s a bit embarrassed that I witnessed her being outcasted by the fellow club owners.
I nod my head toward the door, silently asking her if she wants me to help her get out of here, but she simply gives me a small, indiscreet shake of her head before focusing on her phone in her hands.
My own phone dings and I pull it out of my pocket to read the text.
Reese: You don’t have to wait for me.
Looking up, I shoot her a glare for thinking I could leave her like this.
Me: We’re on the same team tonight. Also, fuck these guys.
She chuckles, holding up the last of her wineglass in a cheers from across the room. I do the same with my bourbon before bringing it to my lips, keeping eye contact the entire time to watch her finish the last of her glass.
Me: What are you drinking?
But Reese’s phone must be on silent because she doesn’t see my text come through when she turns back to the group of twenty-nine other owners, doing her best to get involved.
“Hey,” I say to the bartender as he makes his way to the far end of the bar. “What kind of red do you have?”
He looks behind him at the uncorked lineup of wine. “We have a Cab, a Zin, and a Pinot. But if you’re wondering what she’s drinking . . .” He points in Reese’s direction. “She’s drinking the Pinot.”
“How’d you know it was for her?”
He grabs the bottle of Pinot and pours it into a fresh glass. “You’ve had your eye on her all night.”
“Yeah, it’s not like that. She’s my boss and she’s having a rough day, is all.”
He slides the wineglass over to me. “I’m not here to judge. And I signed an NDA to work this event tonight, so I’m not saying a word. Another bourbon?”
“Please.” Over my shoulder, I look back in Reese’s direction, only she’s nowhere to be found. She’s pretty impossible to miss in that blue dress tonight, so I’m assuming she ran to the restroom or something and I’ll get her this glass of wine when she comes back.
“So, is she his boss too?” the bartender asks. “Because he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off her all night either.”
He points in a different direction than I was looking, and I follow his outstretched finger to the far corner of the room. Reese’s back is to me, but her posture is tense, her shoulders lifted nearly to her ears as she speaks to someone.
I vaguely recognize the guy. If I’m remembering correctly, he was introduced earlier today as the newest assistant to the commissioner. I couldn’t tell you his name if my life depended on it, but he’s younger than me. In his thirties, if I had to guess.
To be frank, I don’t care to know anything about him other than why Reese is so nervous speaking to him.
“Thank you,” I say to the bartender, throwing a twenty in his tip jar before taking the wineglass in one hand and my bourbon in the other.
Pushing off the bar, I’m quick to cross the room.
“Monty! My guy!” Seattle’s field manager swings an arm over my shoulder, stopping me in place. “You are . . .” He stumbles over his words. “Coming out with us.”
“No, Bill. I’m not.”
“You never come out with us. We’re in Vegas!”
I slip out from under his arm, continuing to cross the room. “That’s because I’m too old for that shit.”
“I’m older than you!”
“Exactly!” I call over my shoulder.
Another one of the coaches steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Montgomery. Monty,” he says, drawing out my nickname.
“Yeah?” My tone is exasperated as I look past him to check on Reese. They’re still standing in the same spot. She seems just as uncomfortable as she did before. He’s got a smile I’d like to knock off his face.
“I gotta ask you something.”
I close my eyes in frustration. I’ve been hiding in the corner of the bar for the past few hours. He couldn’t have asked me then?
“Yep?”
He leans in closer, his voice low. “Arthur’s granddaughter.” As soon as those two words are out of his mouth, I feel every muscle in my body tense, wary to hear what else he’s going to add on to them. “What’s her name again?”
My jaw is tight as I speak through my teeth. “Reese.”
“Reese! That’s right. What’s her story?”
“What do you mean, what’s her story? She’s the new owner of the team and acting president. She took over for Arthur after last season.”
He laughs. “No, I don’t care about any of that. Is she single?”
“Seriously?” I blow past him, maybe hitting his shoulder with mine as I do. “Stay away from her,” is my only answer.
“Geez, Monty. Sensitive topic, I guess.”
Finally, I reach her, and I can feel the tension radiating off her body as I approach from behind.
I put both our glasses in one of my hands, using my other to palm her mid-back.
It’s an appropriate spot that no one here, especially someone who works in the commissioner’s office, would think twice about.
From behind, I bend down close to her ear. “You okay?”
Her nod is a bit stiff, but the rest of her seems to relax a bit.
Reaching around her, I steal her empty glass, setting it on a nearby table before slipping the new one into her hand.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I’m typically one to introduce myself when someone is standing nearby, but for whatever reason, fuck this guy.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Reese?” he asks.
I feel her deep inhale against my palm.
“Emmett, this is Jeremy.” Over her shoulder she looks up and meets my eye, trying to silently tell me something before she adds, “My ex-husband.”