Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
~DANNY~
Mac is so pissed off and I love it. I can practically hear her seething as she follows August. I motioned for to go first to add some fuel to that fire and because I wanted to check out her ass in those shorts.
They’re navy-blue and look like they might be team issued, along with her yellow tank with the Blaze logo stretched across her breasts.
She has them rolled, showing off her gorgeous set of legs.
I wonder for a moment what they would feel like wrapped around my waist, or better yet, my neck as I eat her pussy.
I have to stop thinking this way or I’m going to have to adjust myself. I clear my throat, and she turns and looks in my direction.
“Do you need water or something?” she asks, dropping back to walk beside me.
“I am a little parched.” I grin in her direction.
“That’s just too bad. I’m not sharing.”
“Yeah, you really are a brat.”
“You’re calling me a brat?” She giggles and it’s the most wonderful sound.
I want to make her do it again.
I’ve gotta stop looking at her like this. I can’t write about her subjectively if I’m having these thoughts.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” I tell her quietly. That wasn’t what was on the tip of my tongue, but it’s what came out of my mouth.
“Okay.” She shoots me a questioning look. She knows that’s not what I meant to say.
I shake my head, hoping to shake off the funk. I need to stay sharp for what’s coming.
“So, what’s this about?” she asks. “Are you like, suing the team or something? Do you have a concussion?”
I grin in her direction. “That might explain last night’s actions, if I did.”
She flushes. The little mouthy vixen flushes. This just might be fun.
“You’re lucky he’s not suing the team.” August makes himself known in our walk to see his father.
“I barely hit him,” she defends herself.
“You mean you can put more spin on that ball?” I ask. “I would love to see that. I don’t believe you’ve done that yet this season.”
Her head snaps in my direction, mouth hanging open. “It’s only been two games, and I think I had some spin on it the other night. I put some in the net.”
“You did. It’s a good thing, too. People may have stopped coming if you guys got shut out again.”
“Screw you,” she retorts. “You’ve never played a team sport.”
“You don’t know that.”
“That’s what Google said.” Her hand slaps over her mouth as soon as the words come out. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s trying to look anywhere but at me.
“You Googled me, huh? I must really bug you.” I’m grinning at her like an idiot, enjoying her embarrassment.
“Oh, aren’t you two cute,” August says, turning around and smirking. “But let’s keep this professional, shall we? We’re trying to create a respectable organization here.” August laughs at us again as he holds his arm in front of the elevator doors, and we all climb on.
“It’s only the second floor. You don’t want to take the stairs?” Mackenzie asks him.
“Look at you trying to change the subject.” August laughs again at her expense.
I stand beside her in the elevator, enveloped by the sweet scent of her sweat.
The elevator climbs up one floor, and I have the sudden urge to see what happens if I move my hand slightly to touch hers.
She’s standing so close to me. I try not to read too much into it; it’s either me or August. She’s all sweaty from practice, and he reeks of money right now in his tailored pants, polo, and shiny loafers.
She’s probably worried she’d sweat on him, and he’d send her a dry-cleaning bill.
August doesn’t bother me too much. I’m used to guys like him.
Those who have always gotten by with the help of their daddy.
Or who have always been around money. You could say that he and I should have a lot in common.
Should but don’t. Yes, I have a trust fund from my father, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at me.
I don’t drape myself in fancy clothes, drive an impressive car, or live too lavishly.
My gadgets and my laptop are top notch, but that’s about it.
I’ve never wanted many people to know that I have money.
It’s not all because of my father, either; I made some pretty lucrative deals when I could still swim, and a bit after.
But that’s just for me to know, not them.
The elevator dings. We follow August off the elevator and down the hall to his father’s office.
He’s the douche who still answers to his father.
I stopped doing that a long time ago. The thought makes me smile and gives me a little bit of courage as we head into here to pitch my idea to Maxwell Cromwell.
“Ah, August, I see you have Mr. Taylor and Mackenzie with you.” He stands behind his desk and comes around to gesture at us toward the couch and chairs that are off to the side.
“Let’s sit here. I hate the idea of meetings where I’m behind that desk.
Makes me feel like I’m trying to make some kind of a power move. ”
He’s the only one who laughs at that. Mackenzie seems a bit rigid and fidgety as she plays with a stray string at the hem of her yellow tank top.
We all sit down. The resemblance between August and Maxwell is uncanny.
They’re both tall in stature and have the same brown eyes.
Their dress is similar to. Maxwell’s hair has a bit of gray in it, where August’s does not.
But there’s something about Maxwell that makes him seem a bit warmer than his son.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I don’t have much time to ponder it. Maxwell is asking me a question.
“Are you here to sue us, young man?” Nervous laughter escapes his lips.
I laugh along with him, trying to put him at ease. “No, I’m not here to sue you.”
“Okay, good. I heard our little striker here gave you quite the blow to the head.” He shifts uncomfortably.
“I did apologize,” Mackenzie pipes in. “I didn’t do it on purpose and the ball didn’t make contact.”
I don’t believe her. There’s a little twinkle in her eye that tells me otherwise, but I let it go.
“You did,” I reply, shaking my head with a laugh. “I have a proposition that I think could help us both.”
He nods and gestures for me to continue. I steal a glance at Mac; she’s still fidgeting on the edge of her seat, waiting for me to drop whatever bomb I have up my sleeve.
“I was talking to August last night at the bar, and he mentioned that you all were looking for more press. A way to introduce the team to the community,” I begin and August and Maxwell both nod. “I thought maybe I could do an in-depth piece on Mackenzie here.”
“Why would you want to do that?” The words come out of her mouth so fast that I can tell she didn’t have time to process them.
“She does have a point,” Maxwell says, smiling in her direction.
I chuckle. “Yeah, I know my first article about her wasn’t exactly kind.”
“That’s an understatement,” she replies.
I wonder how much more of her smart mouth I’ll be hearing in this meeting. She’s not good at keeping her thoughts to herself. If they agree, I can work that into the article.
“He hasn’t given us the most flattering press, but he’s the sportswriter everyone reads,” August jumps in, explaining it the way he did to me last night. He ended up coming over to me right after he watched Mac leave. The smug bastard grinned at me like he knew some secret I hadn’t figured out yet.
“I see,” Maxwell replies. Looking over at his son, he says, “You think this is a good idea? Mackenzie can’t stand the man, and he wrote distasteful things about her. Why would he write an article that’s flattering?”
I nod. “I understand your concern. But I think that’s why I should do it.
The public knows I’ve already written distasteful things about her, so they would trust that it would be an honest piece.
I would write about the team, practice, the games, and the good you all are hoping to do in the community.
All from the perspective of the youngest captain in the NWSL. ”
I sit back in my chair. I almost wish the whole thing had been my idea, because he’s buying it. August is grinning like an idiot, probably because he brought daddy a winning idea.
“Okay,” he says, turning his attention to Mackenzie. “The idea does make sense, but I need to know how you feel about it.”
She sighs. She’s going to put up a fight. “Do I have to tell him about my personal life?”
“Well, it would help,” I chime in.
She shakes her head. “He doesn’t need that kind of information, Mr. Cromwell.”
He nods and I worry he’s about to say no and give her what she wants.
“You don’t have to answer every question I ask,” I tell her. “And I won’t print any question you don’t answer.”
“And the article will be flattering?” she asks.
All eyes are on me. “Yes, I will write great things about the team.”
“And me,” she throws in there. “No more saying that I lack attack.”
“The press did enjoy the fact that you two sparred in the pressroom,” August adds in. “I think it could be a nice selling point. If we can figure out how to use it, that is.”
I look over at Maxwell, who’s studying us both very carefully. “Makenzie, dear, I would like for you to do this, but I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. I refuse to be one of those owners.”
She smiles and nods, and Maxwell continues.
“But the press for this would be great. The whole community is still on the fence about us. They really were behind the Orlando Pride. And now we’re here. I want them to accept us. This might just be it.”
Mackenzie’s shoulders sag. A large sigh escapes her perfect lips. “I have to do this, don’t I?”
“I could just pick another player,” I chime in, giving her an out. “What about the goalie? Could I write an article about her?”
Her nostrils flair just a bit. For whatever reason, the thought of me working with a teammate does not sit well with her. “I will do it.”
August is clapping with joy.
“Are you sure, young lady?” Maxwell asks her.
“Yeah, if it’s good for the team, then I’ll do it,” she confirms.
He nods. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I reply.
“Can we see a copy before it goes to print?” August asks.
I nod. “Yeah, I can arrange some sneak peeks.”
“Sneak peeks? Why is that plural?” she asks, eyes narrowed in my direction.
“Because I thought it would be fun to do a few pieces on you.” I’m grinning.
“I think it could be great. I could write one about your personal life, the good work the Blaze is doing for the community, and all about the team and how well you’re gelling.
” I pause, turning to see that both Cromwell’s are grinning.
“I like it,” August says. “I knew I liked you.”
I smile in his direction. “Thanks.” I’m proud of myself for how quickly the ideas are flowing. I also like that I’ve found a way I can spend more time with Mac, and she has to let me.
“Do you have any questions?” Maxwell turns to Mackenzie.
She swallows, looking down at that same piece of string on her tank from earlier. “I just wanna play soccer. I’ve never had this much media attention. Sure, we’ve had articles written about us in Portland, but it was the whole team, not just me.”
Maxwell turns to me, shaking his bony finger in my direction. “She has the right to not answer any personal question. If she says no, then it’s a no. And you will not print the questions she hasn’t answered. Got it?”
“Of course,” I reply. “I don’t want this to be like the piece I wrote about you earlier.” I turn to her, trying to reassure her that this will be different. “You can pass when you don’t want to answer. Or tell me to go off the record if you want to talk about it but don’t want it printed.”
August chuckles. “She’s a spitfire, Danny, are you really sure you want to interview this one?”
I chuckle too and watch her scowling at me. Maxwell is looking from me to her, smirking. I’ve got my work cut out for me.
“Yeah, I’m sure she’s who I want to interview.”
Clapping his hands once, Maxwell rises. “From what I understand, I’ll work with your editor on the due dates once you two have talked.”
Nodding again, I tell him, “I’ll have Martin give you a call.”
I get up and shake his hand. He returns it with a strong handshake.
“When do you want to start?” I turn to Mackenzie with a grin.
She rises. “I’ll call you.”
“You don’t have my number,” I remind her.
She just grins, like this was her plan all along. Makenzie turns to leave Cromwell’s office.
“Mackenzie, please,” August replies with a chuckle.
“Yeah, okay, let me give Danny my phone number.” She pulls out her phone and gets ready to take down my number.
“Thank you, Mackenzie. Great game last night,” Maxwell says, returning to his spot behind his desk.
August must take this as his sign to leave the office too. The three of us file out and back into the elevator.
“You hungry?” she asks me.
I turn to her in shock. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, why not?” She shrugs it off like it’s nothing as the elevator descends.
When the doors open, August leaves me with some parting advice. “Don’t poop where you eat.”
I cringe. I’ve always hated the expression,
Mackenzie swats my arm. “I’m not that bad; you know. You just chose to hate me.” She pauses, her eyes darting around before she adds, “For no reason.”
I chuckle. “Alright, let’s go get some lunch, Mackenzie.”
“Please call me Mac,” she replies, leading the way out of the building. “I’m driving.”