Chapter 6
Vee
“Calls and online sales for tickets tripled yesterday,” I reported to the people around the table, “and the trend is continuing as we speak. Season tickets have been sold out since last March. The available seats are getting snapped up. There’s a good chance that every home season game will be a sellout. ”
“I still think we should consider expanding the stadium,” Grant said.
Dad lifted his hand. “We’ve discussed that.
Crystal Light Stadium is only eight years old.
Only Las Vegas and Los Angeles have newer facilities.
Ours holds over seventy thousand fans. It’s the fourth largest stadium with a retractable roof.
Instead of discussing expanding the relatively new facility, let’s talk about how to make each fan’s experience better so they want to renew next year and the year after.
The way to do that is to have a winning team. ”
Grant pressed his lips together and tapped the end of his pen against the table. It wasn’t the first time Dad had put a stop to his idea of expansion. Even a sideways glance to his dad, Uncle Darin, did nothing to propel the discussion.
“Vee?” Royce said, looking my direction. “Reid said you’re going to be spending more time with football operations this season.”
I swallowed, my gaze going to Dad.
“We talked about it earlier,” he said.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked Royce.
“Grant thinks it would be good for you to attend practices, learn the play calls and the formations.”
I turned to my cousin. “Why?”
“Because there’s more to the Coopers than ticket sales and scheduling half-time entertainment.”
“Let me talk to the coaches. We’ll get something worked out,” Royce said.
Uncle Darin changed the subject. “It should be common knowledge by now that we signed Griffin Graham to a one-year contract.”
The remainder of our upcoming meeting caused my pulse to accelerate. Sometime during the night, I’d convinced myself that Fin could play for the Coopers without any interaction from me. That notion was obviously ill-founded.
Dad was speaking. “…Beasley, Darin, Grant, Vee, and I are meeting with Mr. Graham and his agent this afternoon to discuss extending that contract.”
Questions came from around the table. Dad replied as he had to me—Fin’s performance on Sunday was spectacular. The Coopers didn’t want to risk Fin being lured away by another team.
“Do you want to grab some lunch before the meeting with Graham?” Dad asked after our meeting ended.
“I brought something from home,” I said. “What time is the meeting?”
“One o’clock in the Carroll meeting room.”
I feigned a smile. “I’ll see you then.”
I hadn’t brought food from home, but I wanted a few minutes alone to prepare myself before meeting Fin’s sexy blue stare for the first time in nearly fifteen years.
I’d been only twenty when we first met, that fated night at a horrible party.
That was fourteen years ago. We’d said our so-longs less than a year later. It wasn’t supposed to be goodbye.
Life interrupted both of us and the plans we had.
And here we were.
Those were my thoughts as I made my way toward my office.
My two-inch pumps made no sound on the amber carpeting.
My gaze went upward. Along the tall hallway, banners with the likeness of each current player hung.
A smile tugged at my lips at the picture of Troy Dennison.
He would keep the quarterback position and Fin would fade away.
He’d get tired of playing backup and move on to a team that could use him.
Entering the business offices, Jen came toward me. “Did you get my text?” she asked.
“No.” I shook my head. “I had the volume off. Sorry, what did I miss?”
“Griffin Graham is here to see you.”
My circulation rushed to my feet, making it difficult to remain standing. “He’s here?”
She nodded, her eyes wide. “In your office.” She lowered her voice. “He’s a lot taller than he looked on the jumbotron. And his eyes...” She inhaled.
I didn’t need to hear her assessment. I knew every word she said was accurate. “Did he say why he wanted to see me?”
Jen shook her head. “He asked if you were in today. I said yes, but you were at a meeting. He introduced himself and asked if he could wait for you.” She shrugged. “That’s all I know.”
Damn. I should have eaten lunch with Dad.
“Thanks, Jen. I have a meeting at one. Could you give me a call in fifteen, an excuse to end the meeting with Mr. Graham?”
“I can do that.”
Inhaling, I straightened my neck and shoulders.
My suddenly sensitive breasts pressed against my white silk sleeveless blouse as a cold chill scattered over my flesh.
I looked down, mentally demanding my nipples not to bead.
It was my body’s response to the memories of a man, not the man behind the door.
One more glance…I hoped that if my body betrayed me, at least my padded bra would do its damn job.
Exhaling a calming breath, I lifted my chin and pushed open the door to my office.
While I thought I was prepared to meet with Fin face-to-face, I wasn’t. Seeing him again in person after so many years was closer to the materialization of memories, ones I’d buried deep inside, than to reality.
As I entered my office, Fin stood, his eyes opening wide. He’d been seated where Dad had been hours earlier. Wearing dark blue trousers, a button-up shirt open at the collar, and shiny leather loafers, he could easily be on the cover of GQ.
For a moment, we remained silent, each one scanning the other. I wished I could have ascertained that in the last fifteen years Griffin Graham had developed a beer belly, a face-altering injury, or even wrinkles due to excess sun.
None of that was true.
Fin was even sexier than I remembered, causing my core to twist and my nipples to harden. I didn’t look but silently prayed my bra was doing its job. Obviously, my body hadn’t followed my command.
The youth of Fin’s and my first meeting morphed into maturity that couldn’t be categorized by years alone. The world we once shared split in a cosmic divide, taking each of us on separate journeys that somehow had once again collided.
The hint of gray in his dark hair gave Fin character.
His chiseled jaw had grown sharper with time, the edge covered by merely a shadow of hair.
Beneath his expensive clothes, I could tell that his body had matured, yet judging by his wide shoulders and trim waist, I could see he’d remained toned as only an athlete could.
The intensity of his sapphire blue eyes brought back an ache I hadn’t experienced in years.
Refusing to show the cauldron of emotions bubbling to life within me, I pressed my lips together. “Mr. Graham.”
His lips quirked. “Abby, I wanted to talk to you.”
Abby.
He remembered our first meeting.
My cheeks fought to rise, yet I held them resolute. I offered him my hand. “Mr. Graham, in case you didn’t know, I’m Maeve, Maeve Hubbard.”
He stepped forward, taking my hand in his, his long fingers swallowing mine as warmth transferred from him to me.
He held on longer than was socially acceptable.
As I pulled my hand free, the tips of his lips curled, revealing a blindingly white smile.
“I do remember. You go by Vee. And I go by Fin.”
Trying unsuccessfully to quiet the rush of circulation in my ears, I turned and walked toward my desk. Once my tablet and papers were on the hard surface, I straightened my shoulders and turned back to my guest. Motioning to the chairs, I managed to speak. “Please, let’s get this over with.”
“Vee,” he said, still standing, his hands resting casually at his sides. “I don’t want things to be awkward or uncomfortable around here.”
Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. “I’m vice president of stadium operations and marketing. I have little to no interaction with the players.” Although that seemed to be shifting.
“That’s too bad,” he said, taking a step toward me.
Without thought, my gaze went to his left hand. What was I doing? There was no reason for me to speculate. Surely, there was a wedding band. Had I heard of him marrying? I hadn’t thought of that until this minute.
Fin must have followed my gaze because he lifted his left hand and wiggled his fingers. The only ring was a smart ring he wore on his first finger. “Not married.”
“Not my concern.”
His timbre unexpectedly ricocheted through me as his deep baritone voice carried through the air. “Are you or have you been?”
“Not your concern.”
“I was,” he shared, his tone self-abashing. “It only lasted less than a year. I think she had some preconceived notions about being married to a professional football player. I didn’t fulfill those expectations.”
I set my jaw, and pressing my lips together, I inhaled. “Mr. Graham, we’re about to meet with you and your agent, my father, uncle, cousin, and Royce Beasley to discuss your contract. Any discussion regarding personal information is inappropriate.”
He took a step closer. “I told you about the failed marriage because to be honest, I’m not good at relationships. It isn’t anything new. I made some horrible choices when I was younger, a lot younger.”
“Can I take that to mean you won’t fulfill your contract?”
“No.” He opened his eyes and clenched his jaw. “I will uphold my end of the contract.”
I crossed my arms over my breasts. “Tell me, Mr. Graham, why did you agree to come to the Coopers? You had to know I would be here.”
“Would you believe me if I told you that your presence with the team weighed heavily on my decision to come to Lexington?”
“Honestly, no. I don’t believe you.”