Chapter 25 Chelsea #2
“So, what’s your prediction on the three rookie QBs you’ve got battling it out?
” Roman asks, referring to the three guys still vying to become our starter.
I answer his question, and we chat for a bit, and when that line of discussion runs its course, Roman surprises me by not walking away but instead asking another question, this one about my brothers.
Much to my annoyance, Roman listens carefully to my answer, the same way he’s been doing all along, and he even asks thoughtful follow-up questions, the bastard.
Unfortunately, with each passing minute, I fear I’m in increasingly serious danger of being charmed by this devil of a man against my will.
“What do you do for the Mastodons, exactly?” Iris pipes in to ask.
“Hell if I know,” I deadpan, and Iris and Roman both crack up.
“I’m only half kidding. I’m sincerely confused about my official job description.
I started out as my father’s personal assistant, which was a nebulous job that didn’t really exist, but lately it feels like I’ve become a legit assistant to the assistant linebacker coach. ”
“Nice,” Roman says.
“She’s being modest,” Luca interjects proudly.
“Everyone’s blown away by Chelsea. They even assigned her to Moriarty after his holdout.
Oh, and the defensive coordinator’s started asking her for analytics stuff, too.
” He looks at me adoringly. “One day, Cheslea’s going to be the NFL’s first female head of analytics.
” When Roman and Iris express excitement about that goal, Luca adds, “Unfortunately, she can’t get there with the Mastodons, though.
Our GM is an old-school guy who doesn’t believe in ‘that hocus-pocus stuff.’” He scoffs. “You know the type, Romie.”
“I sure do. He thinks it’s 1965 and he’s Vince Lombardi?”
“Exactly.”
Roman tsks. “My prior head coach was like that.”
I shake my head in commiseration. “No wonder you left the Crusaders, then.”
“Yup.” Roman flashes me the famous smile that sells a whole lot of sports drinks, shoes, and athletic gear.
“Thankfully, the Thunderbolts have a far more enlightened approach, one that relies heavily on data.” A light bulb goes off on his face.
“Hey, why don’t I connect you with my head of analytics?
Who knows, he might have an opening for you. ”
My heart stops and my brain breaks. But before I’ve figured out how to say ‘hell to the fucking no’ without sounding horribly rude, Luca booms, “That’d be awesome, Romie! Thanks!”
Luca looks at me gleefully, not realizing Roman’s offer isn’t one I could possibly accept.
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this party and conversation, against all odds, far more than I’d ever care to admit.
But if I wouldn’t take a private plane ride from the man who’s inflicted untold harm and humiliation upon my people, then I certainly won’t take a job with his team, either.
As ambitious as I am, I’d rather stay at the Mastodons forever than use my talents to find new and ingenious ways to help Roman Maguire win his first Super Bowl ring—and that’s especially true when him winning the Big Game would necessarily mean defeat for some people I care deeply about: Luca, my father, and my brothers.
Luca.
I’m flabbergasted to realize my brain just supplied his name above all others.
“Thanks for the offer, Roman,” I squeak out. “But I’m enjoying working with my father for now.”
He winks. “I’ll shoot you a text anyway. He might be a good contact for you in the future.”
“Oh, for sure,” Luca says. He turns to me, “Don’t be shy. Roman wouldn’t offer if he wasn’t totally willing to help you.”
“Absolutely.”
Fuck. Barf. What’s happening?
I inhale a deep breath and tell myself to calm down. What are the odds Roman will actually do anything, anyway? Most likely, this will be like when people say they should get together for lunch and never do.
“Chelsea’s got huge dreams,” Luca says proudly, shooting a smolder at me that practically melts my face off. “It’s one of my favorite things about her.”
A torrent of electricity flashes through me at Luca’s compliment, combined with that heated, sexual look. Suddenly, I feel the need to get away from Luca, or else I might do something bad. Regrettable. Weak.
“Excuse me,” I blurt. I raise my glass and add, “I could use a refill. Anyone want anything?”
Roman and Iris both say they’re good, but Luca says he’ll come with me, even though his cup is still almost full.
“No, no, catch up with your brother,” I gasp out, patting his gorgeous forearm. “I’m going to check on Daisy, too.”
I make it to the drinks table and quickly down some tasty sangria from a pitcher.
And then, I look around for my bestie. In short order, I spot Daisy on a nearby couch, engrossed in conversation with a very large and attractive dude.
A Thunderbolt, surely. Shoot. Now probably isn’t the best time to interrupt her.
She looks like she’s going in for the kill over there.
But then again, this is a code red situation for me.
I stride over to her and grimace when she glares up at me, staving off my interruption. “Sorry, I need you,” I stage-whisper. “It’ll be quick.”
“Of course, my darling.” She tells her new friend not to go anywhere and follows me to a quiet corner. “Are you having trouble playing nice with our host? Because I swear to God, Chelsea—”
“No, no, it’s the opposite. He’s been disgustingly wonderful, much to my extreme horror. My problem is with Luca.”
Daisy furrows her brow. “With Luca? But he’s been acting like you walk on water.”
“I know. That, I could handle. But just now, he said something that made me want to jump his bones, and now I feel like I have to get out of here.”
I explain everything that just went down in my conversation with Luca and his brother, and Daisy looks thoroughly confused.
“Don’t you see?” I say. “Luca’s repeatedly said I’m the best coach he’s ever had.
And yet, suddenly, he’s doing everything in his power to make my dreams come true, even though that would require me to ditch his ass!
My success would be against his own self-interest, Daisy.
And yet, he’s still trying to make it happen for me.
” I wring my hands. “As a result, I’m feeling so horny for Luca, I can barely stand still. ”
“Sounds like a great problem to have.”
“We have to go right now. If we don’t, I might cave and drag him away to have sex with me again. Here! Somewhere in the catacombs of the devil’s lair!”
Daisy cackles. “All the more reason to stay. Go on, Chelsea! Live a little. Go have sex in the devil’s lair!”
I resist. Push back. Explain all the reasons I truly can’t. But Daisy isn’t having it.
“Darling, I say this with love,” she says. “But if you don’t drag that hot-ass man into a back room of this mansion and fuck his brains out right now, I’ll find him and do it myself to prove a point.”
I roll my eyes. She’s teasing, of course. Daisy is as loyal a friend as they come. But her joke serves its intended purpose: It gives me the shove I need.
I thank Daisy and she pats my ass in parting.
“Have fun, ya filthy harlot!”
When I locate Luca again, he’s now chatting happily with a gaggle of women—Nicola, his mother, his aunt, and Iris—so I stand strategically off to a side, hoping to covertly make eye contact.
When I finally do, I flick my head toward a nearby hallway, letting Luca know that’s where I want him to meet me.
A moment later, we’re huddled together and alone in my designated meeting spot. “I was wondering if you’d give me a tour of the house,” I whisper with a suggestive waggle of my brows. “Or at least, maybe you could show me a particularly quiet back bedroom?”
A wicked smile spreads across Luca’s face at my obvious meaning. “If that’s code for ‘Give me your man meat again, Luca,’ I believe I gave you a secret code that will unlock that particular treasure.”
I glare at him in a way that makes it clear he’s playing a dangerous game, and a half second later, he presses his finger into his ear like he’s a TV host getting a message from his producer in an earpiece.
“I’m being told the judges will allow it,” he jokes.
With a laugh, he grabs my hand and says, “Come on, mathlete. I know the perfect spot for our one-room tour.”