Chapter 7 Isla
ISLA
I normally hate conference rooms where every wall is glass. It feels like I’m in a fishbowl.
However, every time I’ve had to sit across from Luca in this space, I’ve found myself feeling quite grateful for the awareness that anyone and everyone can see us in here.
It’s helping me keep my absolutely insane attraction to this man in check. An attraction that is even stronger after being stuck in an elevator with him for over an hour and getting to know him as a person, not just my employer.
Juniper thinks it’s hilarious, the fact that my new boss has me thinking all kinds of things I have no right thinking.
She immediately googled him the second I confessed to her how incredibly handsome I think he is, but he has a remarkably sparse online presence.
Which I already knew from my own search before I agreed to take the job.
Juni asked if he was a sexy silver fox and while I agree he’s definitely sexy, and a fox, the silver is more salt-and-pepper.
Aaaand now I’m staring at his hair again.
“Which is why I was thinking of having Gabe handle the press that day.” Luca leans back in his chair as I blink rapidly, trying to get my brain to catch up to whatever he was talking about while I was daydreaming.
“Right. Yes. I mean, that makes sense,” I say, hoping fervently that whatever I’m agreeing to actually makes sense.
“That way, neither one of us are tied up showing them around,” Luca continues.
Oh. That’s what he’s referring to, the stadium tour we’re arranging for next week when the renovations are complete. Not tying me up. Or us being tied up together. In bed. Oh my God. Nope. Renovations, not bedroom kink.
I clear my throat. “And we’re certain the crews are still on track to finish on time?” My gaze dips, skimming my list of notes in front of me, hoping it distracts my brain from other things. “Last time I was there, it looked like there was quite a bit left to do.”
Luca’s deep chuckle hits my ears. “Yes. I had to convince Dom to let me throw some more money at them, but they assure me next Thursday is their last day. The paint will be dry Friday morning, just in time for us to open the doors to the media. With no more elevator malfunctions.”
I bite my cheek to stop from smiling. “Great.” I glance up and see his storm-grey eyes focused on me.
His stare is intense. He looks away the second our gaze meets, but I flush, nonetheless.
This isn’t the first time I’ve caught him looking at me like that.
It’s never anything more than a look, nothing I would say is disrespectful at all.
But every time I catch him, a wave of heat passes over me.
Mentally shaking my head, I reach for the carafe of hot water in the center of the table to refill my cup of tea. I’ve got one of my slightly more expensive tea bags in my mug, which means I can squeeze out a second cup.
Except, instead of the handle of the carafe, my hand brushes against warm, slightly rough skin.
“Oh. Sorry. You first,” I say, snatching my hand away.
His lips quirk up slightly as he hands me the small package in his hand. “I just wanted to offer this instead of what you have there. Gotta keep you caffeinated,” he continues in a teasing tone. “Last thing I want is a repeat of Monday.”
I ignore his outstretched hand and give him a haughty look. “First of all, it was not because I hadn’t drank my tea that I dropped that box of files.”
“Oh, I remember, it was the smooth tile floor that tripped you,” he says, openly laughing now.
And I guess I can’t blame him. It wasn’t my best moment, tripping over absolutely nothing and spilling the box of trading card mock-ups I had made.
Mock-ups he’ll never see, since Dom insisted they were out of budget.
“Still, making sure my marketing expert has her tea isn’t a bad idea.” He grins, sitting back in his chair, looking every bit the sexy silver fox Juni named him.
“I’m glad you recognize that,” I say with a smile of my own, settling back in my own chair. “Besides, if you remember our very first meeting, it was your fault I dumped tea all over you. You’re the one who tripped over nothing that time.”
I’m expecting him to laugh along with me, not clam up and drop his gaze to the table.
An uneasy silence falls, and suddenly I panic that I’ve crossed the professional line and am getting way too comfortable around my boss.
I clear my throat and try to redirect the conversation back to where it should be. On work.
“Anyway, let’s circle back to the fundraiser gala.”
“What about your tea?”
I look up to see him still holding out the paper-wrapped packet, an intense expression on his face. I take it, and when I bring it closer, the unmistakable aroma of bergamot fills my nostrils.
“Is this…” I trail off as I unwrap the paper. “Luca.”
“It’s a local tea company that uses all organic and sustainably sourced ingredients. I’ve got a bigger order on hold, if you like it, so there’s enough at the office for you.”
He remembered my rose. My luxury indulgence. More than that, he went to the effort of finding some and getting it for me?
I’m speechless. And confused. Is this a simple, kind gesture, or more? I mentally give my head a shake. This is not the time or place to swoon over tea.
“Thank you. That’s very kind. I hope Dom didn’t give you a hard time about the cost.”
“It didn’t come out of the budget.”
Oh God. He paid for it himself. My cheeks start to heat. I don’t know what to say.
Luca takes the package back from me and opens it. Inside are individual tea bags, and as soon as he takes one out, the bergamot aroma grows deeper. I watch as he places one in my cup and pours hot water over the top before sliding it back toward me.
“Let me know what you think.”
I manage to lift my gaze to meet his and again say a simple yet heartfelt “thank you.”
My head is still spinning as I try to compose myself, shuffling the papers in front of me. I scan my notes, not really reading them. “Did you give any more thought to the charity collaboration I suggested?”
“Yeah. I think working with the animal shelter is a great idea, especially with how close Dogwood Cove is to Cedar Creek. It extends our outreach beyond our town, which can only help in the long run.”
Nodding in agreement, I go on to the next thing on our list. “Maybe we can ask Rafe to pick a few players to attend the gala. Then I’ll get in contact with the director of the shelter and confirm our numbers and plans for the silent auction donations.”
“And you’ll be at the gala with me, right?”
I blink slowly. With him?
“Y-yes. I’ll be there. To help make sure it all runs smoothly and generate more interest in the Thunder.”
“Great. Let me know when and where to pick you up.”
I manage to school my reaction enough to stop my jaw from dropping. But is he for real right now? “That’s okay, you don’t have to. I can just meet you there.”
Luca fixes me with a look that leaves no room for arguing. “I’ll pick you up, Forrester.”
Okay, but why does his calling me by my last name send heat rushing through my body? And why am I now frantically thinking about what’s in my closet, wondering if I have anything that can blend sexy with professional. Not that I need to be looking sexy. Oh my God, he’s my boss.
Snap. Out. Of. It. Isla.
“F-fine,” I stutter. He nods and checks his phone. “Next order of business, you wanted to show me some social media ideas?”
“Right. If you would open your preferred social media channel, I’ll tell you what to search.”
I pick up my mug and take a sip of the most decadent tea I’ve ever tasted, just barely stifling my moan of pleasure.
Over the rim of my cup, I watch Luca stand and move to walk around the table, stopping part way with a grimace he tries to hide, his hand coming to the side of his leg.
“Everything okay?” I ask, and he just nods.
“Yep. Just a cramp.” He sits down beside me and gestures to my phone. “Okay, now you can just show me on your phone.”
I look at him for a second, noting how his hand stays on his knee. Faint lines of pain are on his face, something I would have never noticed if he wasn’t so close. Must be a bad cramp. But it’s not my place to pry, so I turn my focus to my phone and open up the accounts I had saved to show him.
“Alright, so I think we need a multi-channel approach. Video and static posts, sharing stories from our players and team members, yourself included,” I say, looking at him.
“Why me?”
“Because people are going to want to know why a former Cedar Creek resident came back and bought their baseball team. You’re young, rich, and attractive. The trifecta for appealing to the masses on social media.” I blurt it all out without thinking, then mentally slap myself. Seriously, Isla?
But Luca’s enigmatic expression doesn’t seem angry or insulted. If anything, he’s amused. “I’d argue about the young part, but I’m more intrigued by the fact that you think I’m attractive enough for social media appeal.” he teases.
I lift my hand and wave it weakly over him.
“I mean. Yes.” Turning back to my phone, I ignore my racing heart and continue.
“We also need to go back in time. Look at what made the Thunder so popular with the town. Pull in the nostalgia angle. I’m thinking we can do that in both advertising campaigns and in our physical presence at the stadium.
Vintage jerseys and caps, photos of past teams and players on the wall.
Maybe the Cedar Creek News has some old photos of past news articles written about the team.
We blend the old with the new, using modern approaches to remind everyone why they love this team. ”
Luca’s studying me when I finish. “You’re really fucking good at this, Isla.
” He glances down at the phone, where I’ve still got an account for a team in Washington open.
“What about fan engagement? Loyalty programs? These guys do something cool with letting season ticket holders pick themes for fan nights.”
I nod eagerly. “I love that. Yes. We can incorporate those as we go. Part of my approach is to be prepared for changing strategies on the fly. We always have a plan B in our back pocket, so that if one thing isn’t working, we can pivot to something else.
We’ve got the next few months to generate interest in the team, and then you’ll have the season to make everyone fall in love with it. ”
The smile he gives me is proud and admiring, and I inwardly preen under the attention. I know I’m good at my job, but knowing I’ve impressed Luca Calloway? Even better.
Then he stands and stretches his arms overhead. “Alright. It’s late, and I’ve kept you here far too long. Your kid must be wondering what’s happened.”
I stand as well and begin gathering everything up off the table. “It’s okay, Charlie’s a pretty self-sufficient kid.”
Luca joins me in tidying up. “I’m guessing he gets that from you. Is his dad involved?” His hands freeze. “Shit. That’s inappropriate, I have no business asking you that.”
I place my hand on his, then snatch it away when he looks at me.
“It’s fine, Luca. Seriously, I’m not upset.
And no, his biological father has never been in the picture.
” I shrug. “We were seventeen, he didn’t want a kid to derail his plans.
Last I heard, he went off to university on the East Coast. It’s just me and Charlie.
And my parents, they stepped up and were a huge help. ”
He nods, a soft smile creasing his face. “I’m glad you have them.”
My responding smile is lined with grief. “Thanks. It’s just my mom now, my father died a few years ago.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.”
I wave off his apology. “Please, don’t apologize. Honestly, I shouldn’t have said anything, you’re my boss, not my friend. You don’t need to know all my trauma.”
“I don’t want you to see me as just your boss, Isla. I hate the idea of being different, or somehow more important than anyone else here. Just because I pay the bills doesn’t mean I don’t care about everyone here. So if you want to talk about anything, I’m here. Okay?”
My tongue darts out to moisten my suddenly dry lips. And I nod. “Okay.”
Luca exhales, his face relaxing from his intense expression.
“And at the risk of being inappropriate again, I have to say one thing. You’re an impressive woman.
Certainly a talented marketer, and with the way you clearly care about your job and the team, I can only assume a great mom, also. Charlie is a lucky kid.”
There’s a heated moment of silence after his quiet compliment.
It’s not that I’ve never had someone praise me.
But a man like Luca, who obviously has high standards and the drive to reach them, calling me talented and a good mother?
It’s hard to hold back from throwing my arms around his neck and hugging him in thanks.
Now that would be inappropriate.
Just then, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. We both glance down at the same time and see Charlie’s name on the caller ID.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Isla, enjoy the tea,” Luca says quietly before stepping out of the room.
I exhale.
He’s my boss.
And the only man I have room for in my life is calling me.
“Hey kid, what’s up?”