The Game, page 1
Copyright © 2022 by Vi Keeland
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
The Game
Edited by: Jessica Royer Ocken
Proofreading by: Elaine York/Allusion Publishing, Julia Griffins
Cover Model: Nicky John White
Photographer: Marq Mendez
Cover designer: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative
Formatting: Elaine York, Allusion Publishing
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Newsletter SIgnup
Acknowledgements
Other Books by Vi Keeland
About the Author
“IN THE END…
We only regret the chances we didn’t take, the relationships we were afraid to have, and the decisions we waited too long to make.”
― Lewis Carroll
BELLA
“I still cannot believe this is all yours…” Miller ducked his head to look out the passenger-side window from the driver’s seat.
“It’s not all mine—twenty-five percent is owned by an investment group.”
“Whatever. You’re still the queen of that castle. Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”
I glanced over at the imposing building. “I love you for offering, but I think this is something I need to do by myself.”
“Okay. But I don’t have to be at the office until this afternoon, so if you change your mind, just give me a call.” He winked. “You may need an assistant to go ahead of you into the locker room and make sure all of those sweaty football players are decent before you walk in.”
I leaned over and kissed Miller’s cheek with a chuckle. “You’re such a giver. Thank you again for driving me.”
I opened the car door and paused, taking a deep breath as I stared at the tremendous arena. Up ahead was a guy wearing a hoodie and carrying what looked like at least a dozen pizza boxes.
Miller pointed. “Shouldn’t you go in a different entrance than the delivery people?”
“I have no damn idea. But if my lovely siblings have anything to do with it, I’m sure my entrance will lead straight to a dungeon.”
“Don’t let those spoiled, rich pricks intimidate you. And straighten your damn glasses. They’re crooked again.”
I sighed and pushed my glasses up my nose. “I’ll do my best.”
The walk from the parking lot to the entrance of Bruins Stadium felt a lot like walking a gang plank, especially since I knew there were sharks waiting for me inside. When I got close to the door, I noticed a few people milling around with cameras. I wasn’t sure if they were here for me, since I’d had people camped out in front of my apartment again lately, or if maybe they’d come because the players were practicing today. But I lowered my head to avoid eye contact and kept walking until I was safely inside. A security officer stopped me two steps into the building.
“Can I help you?”
“Ummm, yes. I work here.”
“Never saw you before. New?”
I nodded. “Today is technically my first day.”
He picked up a clipboard. “Name?”
“Bella Keating.”
He scanned his list and pointed to the X-ray machine a few feet away. “Just like the airport. Cell phones, laptops, and any other electronic devices have to be removed from your bag and run through the machine. When you’re done, wait on the yellow line to be called before walking through the metal detector.”
I followed the instructions and set my cell phone in a small round dish before placing my laptop in a larger gray tray. Two more security officers stood talking on the other side of the metal detector while I waited on the yellow line. Up ahead, I watched as the pizza guy with the hoodie stopped to talk to a woman. She twirled her hair and giggled at something he said before he got into the elevator car and disappeared. A few seconds later, the doors to the adjoining car slid open and a young guy wearing a suit walked out. His nose was buried in his phone as he strolled toward security. When he finally looked up, his eyes widened and his casual amble turned to a sprint. I glanced behind me, wondering who he was running for.
“Ms. Keating! I’m so sorry I’m late.” He frowned at the two security guards who, until now, had been ignoring me in favor of quoting stats about last weekend’s game, while I waited patiently on the yellow line as instructed. “Excuse me. Do you know who this is that you have waiting?”
The guard who had checked my ID shrugged. “Last name’s Keating, right? She’s new here.”
Suit Guy put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “And what’s the name of the new owner of the team? The person whose name will be on your next paycheck?”
The guard’s eyes grew wide. “Holy crap. You’re Ms. Keating?”
I hesitated before nodding. “Yes, I’m Bella Keating.”
“I’m very sorry.” He took my elbow and guided me to walk through the metal detector. It buzzed as I passed through, and I stopped, but the guard waved it off. “It’s fine. You don’t need to go through security at all.”
The young guy in the suit shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Keating. I wasn’t expecting you until later. I was coming down to make sure security knew you would be here today, and to tell them to call me as soon as you arrived.” He extended his hand. “I’m Josh Sullivan, your assistant. Well, I mean, I was Mr. Barrett’s assistant. We’ve spoken on the phone a few times.”
“Oh, sure…Josh.” I smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Would you like me to give you a tour of the arena, or would you prefer to go straight to your office?”
Considering I wasn’t even sure I had an office, I figured that would be as good a place to start as any. “My office would be great.”
Josh held his hand out for me to walk first. I took a few steps, but then remembered my stuff had gone through the X-ray machine, and I’d never collected it. I pointed. “Almost forgot my electronics.”
In the elevator, Josh inserted a keycard into a slot on the button panel. “You can’t access the executive suites without a security card. I have a set of cards and a bunch of keys you’ll be needing waiting for you in your office.”
“Thank you.”
The top floor of executive suites was nothing like my old, dingy office. The bright halls were decorated with framed action shots of players and an array of awards and accolades. When we came to the end of the hall, Josh took keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door.
“This is your office.” He pushed the door open, but stepped aside for me to enter.
“This is an office?”
He chuckled. “It is, and it’s all yours.”
I walked over to the long wall of glass that looked down into the stadium. A few athletes were out on the field below, stretching. “You do know I’ve asked Tom Lauren to stay on as acting team president, the position he’s held since John Barrett passed, right? I’m co-president, but it’s just in name. I have a lot to learn. So maybe Tom should have this office.”
Josh smiled. “His isn’t too shabby. It’s down the hall. I booked you a sit-down with him at eleven today, and there’s a luncheon staff meeting at twelve thirty. Then at four, you have a quick meet and greet with the team when practice ends. Otherwise, your calendar is wide open so you can get settled in.”
“Okay, great.”
“By the way, do you prefer an electronic calendar, a physical planner, or both?”
“I would prefer a physical planner, if you don’t mind.”
He smiled again. “Your father did, too. Sometimes old school just works better.”
I nodded. Keeping a paper-and-pen calendar wasn’t that unique, yet I clung to that tiny bit of information about John Barrett. I knew so little about him, but I had a feeling that would change quickly now that I was here.
Josh motioned to the window. “Practice starts at ten, so it’ll fill up soon.” He pointed to the biggest desk I’d ever seen. “I ordered you a new laptop and set you up on the team’s management portal. It gives you access to everything you’ll want to know about the team and the individual athletes—stats by player, injuries, medical reports, salary, discipline reports—you name it, there’s a report for it in there.” He motioned to a door on the wall behind the desk. “That leads to a private bathroom. It’s equipped with a shower and a massage room.”
“Massage room?”
“Mr. Barrett often utilized the team’s massage therapists. I can set you up with whatever appointments you’d like.” He walked over to a floor-to-ceiling bookcase. “All of the team’s playbooks are printed out and shelved, as are dossiers on each team member. There are also books on potential recruits the recruiting staff is following and a book on all players within the league whose contracts are up in the next twelve months. Through that door—”
Josh suddenly stopped. My eyes had still been stuck on the dozens of thick books on the many shelves. When they shifted back to his, he smiled. “I’m sorry. This must be a lot to take in, and I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“It’s fine.”
“Why don’t I go grab us both some coffee and give you a few minutes to settle in?”
I exhaled loudly. “That would be great. Thank you, Josh.”
He closed the door behind him, and I stood in the center of the giant space. It was surreal that I was here, not to mention that this was my office. I’d barely gotten to look back over it all when the door burst open and my nightmare of a half-sister walked in.
“Ready to call it quits yet?” Drizella snarked.
Of course, Drizella wasn’t her real name, but that’s how Miller and I referred to my new half-siblings, Drizella and Anastasia—the evil stepsisters from Cinderella.
I plastered on a fake smile. “Good morning, Tiffany.”
She sneered. “This is such a joke. I can’t believe you’re going to attempt to run the team. Have you ever even watched a game?”
I ignored her. “I’m glad you agreed to stay on. Your experience is obviously invaluable.”
“Of course I’m invaluable. Because I know football. Unlike you.”
“Well, I’m hoping I can learn a lot from you.” I smiled sweetly. Over the last two years, since my life had been turned upside down, I’d figured out that the best way to combat Tiffany’s evil was to bludgeon her with kindness and compliments. She only knew how to fight with me. So after a while, if I didn’t take the bait, she’d lose the wind in her sail and float away. And that’s exactly what happened now. She turned and strutted her too-skinny ass back to the door. As she did, the pizza delivery guy passed by. It was the third time I’d noticed him, and it dawned on me that it was a little strange.
“Who gets pizza delivered before eight AM? What place is even open that early?”
Tiffany glanced down the hallway after the guy and turned back with an evil smile. “You want to make yourself useful?”
I assumed it was a rhetorical question, but she waited for an actual response. I sighed. “Of course, Tiffany.”
She pointed down the hall. “That pizza delivery guy has been harassing women. Only last week he made a comment about my ass. As the new leader of this organization, perhaps you can let him know behavior like that will not be tolerated.”
I blinked. “Oh. Wow. That’s terrible.”
“That’s why I’m suggesting you do something about it. Unless you’re too busy…or maybe you don’t care how the women here are treated.”
“Of course I care.”
“Then I look forward to hearing how your discussion goes. I’ll see you at the staff meeting later.”
Tiffany huffed and disappeared. I figured I’d speak to Josh about the delivery guy when he returned, but a minute later, hoodie guy passed by my door yet again. This time the pizza boxes were gone. I normally dreaded confrontation, but I was going to have to get used to it if I was going to do this job. So I walked out into the hall.
“Excuse me…”
The guy turned around.
Damn. This close he was really good looking.
He pointed to himself. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes. Do you think we can speak for a moment?”
He flashed a megawatt smile that was pretty damn dazzling. His teeth might’ve actually gleamed a bit. No wonder this guy thought he could say and do whatever he wanted. Though being handsome certainly didn’t give him the right to harass women.
Hoodie guy followed me to my office. I stepped aside and extended my hand. “Please, come in.”
I closed the door behind me before offering my hand. “I’m Bella Keating.”
“I know who you are. I’ve seen your picture in the paper.” He clasped my hand. “Christian. It’s good to meet you.”
“Obviously this isn’t the ideal topic of conversation when you first meet someone, but I’m afraid I need to discuss a complaint I’ve received about you.”
Christian’s forehead wrinkled. “Complaint? What kind of complaint?”
“One of the employees has informed me that you’ve been harassing women here at the Bruins. She mentioned one particular instance where you made a comment about her backside.”
Christian’s eyebrows jumped. “Harassing? I don’t think so. Some of the women like to flirt, but they’re just fooling around.”
“That’s actually a common problem. One person thinks they’re flirting, but the other person feels like they’re being harassed. The line between the two can often be very blurry. Here at the Bruins, we have a zero-tolerance policy for harassment, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from delivering your pies here in the future. What pizza place do you work for?”
“Pizza place?”
“Yes, I’d like to know who your employer is.”
The guy’s full lips curved to a grin as he planted his hands on his hips. “You don’t know who my employer is?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.”
He chuckled and walked toward the door. “I gotta go. But it was fun meeting you, Bella.”
I couldn’t believe the audacity of this guy. He was laughing? “You know I don’t find sexual harassment funny, nor do I take approaching someone to discuss a complaint lodged against them lightly. I wasn’t going to call your boss, but I think perhaps I should, considering how flippant you’re being.”
“By all means, call her. That oughta make for an interesting conversation.” He opened my door and looked back over his shoulder. “And hey, as long as I’m harassing people, I might as well tell you that you’re much cuter than your pictures in the paper. Would you like to have dinner sometime?”
My mouth dropped open. Before I could close it, Josh returned. He lifted his chin to the delivery guy. “What’s up, Christian. I guess you met the boss?”
“Sure did. Bella here wants to know what pizza place I work for. Maybe you can fill her in. She’d also like my boss’s number. Gotta run.” Christian blew me a kiss. “Later, beautiful. By the way, your glasses are a little crooked.”
Josh held out a coffee, shaking his head. “That was weird.”
“Tell me about it.” I adjusted my glasses on my face. “I hope you know who he works for.”
Josh thumbed toward the door. “Christian?”
“Yes?”
“Well, since you own the team now, I guess he works for you.”
My nose wrinkled. “The pizza delivery guy works for the team?”
Josh studied my face. “Oh crap. You have no idea who that was, do you?”
“Uhhh…the pizza delivery guy?”
“That was Christian Knox. The starting quarterback for the Bruins and your team’s captain.”
I shut my eyes. I’m going to kill Drizella.
“How was your first day?”
My head lolled back against the headrest the moment I pulled Miller’s car door shut. “Do you remember what happened on my first day when we worked together in college?”
“You mean Mr. Big Balls?”
“The one and only.”
“What about him?”
“My mistake with him was less embarrassing than today.”
In our sophomore year, Miller had gotten me a job at the place he worked—he did tech support for a payroll-software company. I should’ve known before I started that it was a bad idea. Clients would call in when they had a problem, and we’d share our screens, showing them the steps to get through the issue with our software. There was also a chat box on the bottom of the screen where you could see the client’s profile picture and they could see yours. Third client into my shift, this guy pops in for some help, and his profile pic shows him standing. I could see down to his mid-thigh. I swear, to this day, I still have no idea what was going on in that photo, but on my screen it looked like he had giant balls. I don’t mean a pronounced bulge. I mean two round softballs trying to escape from his pants. I managed to get through the support chat, but before we disconnected, I took a screenshot of the profile pic with my phone so I could show it to Miller. Then I thought I disconnected the guy. You can see where this is going already…
