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“Thought so,” he adds, pulling me away from my tumultuous thoughts. “I’ve never seen you here before, and I make it a point to know everyone who gets VIP access.”
“Oh, are you a part of the club’s security detail?” I ask, feeling my tense muscles relax somewhat.
It would make sense for a man like him to be a part of the club’s security, especially in this setting. Just glancing around the room, I can list five names belonging to Boston’s elite and most prestigious financial moguls.
“Something like that.” He chuckles, his black eyes glimmering with mischief as his smile broadens. “May I ask who invited you to today’s game?”
“Nathan Wilder.”
“Wilder? Really?” he asks, eyeing me up and down unbelievingly, his smile instantly falling from his lips. “And how do you know Wilder?”
“He’s a friend,” I reply evenly, not liking how his demeanor suddenly changed.
“A friend?” He cocks his eyebrows suspiciously.
“Yes,” I affirm, not wanting to tell this man any more than necessary.
Telling people that Nate is a client of my matchmaking agency is not something I want to broadcast to the world. Not because it would be bad publicity for my business, quite the contrary. However, I’ve come to understand that Nate is a private person, and telling total strangers about his personal affairs would ultimately break the trusting relationship we are currently building. Though Nate hasn’t asked me to sign an NDA, it would be bad faith on my part to discuss his personal life just to make idle small talk.
“I wasn’t aware that Wilder had many friends, let alone girlfriends,” the dark-eyed stranger states flatly. I’m about to rectify his assumption of me being Nate’s girlfriend but stop when he pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts punching the keys as if they have personally offended him somehow. “What’s your name?” he asks with a bite, eyes glued onto his screen.
“Excuse me?”
“I asked what your name was, and it would be wise of you to give it to me. I want to ensure that it’s on the guest list and that you’re not just some unscrupulous reporter wanting a scoop on Wilder.”
“I can assure you that I’m not. I’m just a friend,” I insist, feeling offended.
“Right. Sure you are.” He scowls, his nose scrunching in a way that says he finds me utterly revolting. He then waves at the two guards standing post at the door over to us.
Holy shit.
He’s going to kick me out.
“Look, Mister, I don’t know who you are and what kind of power kick you think you got going, but I can assure you I’m telling you the truth. Nate and I really are friends. He asked me to come here today to support him, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. I’m staying right here.”
“We’ll see about that,” he quips with a sneer as his two security guards approach.
But before they grab me to pull me away, my best friend resurfaces long enough to come to the rescue.
“Your boys so much as touch a hair on her head, and I’ll sue you and this club so fast that the Boston Guardians might as well change its name to Piper’s Bitches. Is that understood?”
“Lee,” he groans, turning around to face a pissed-off Piper.
“Nichols,” she greets, crossing her arms over her chest, looking just as intimidating as her nemesis.
“So thiswomanis a friend of yours?” he asks, giving me another once over.
“She is. More importantly, she’s friends with a key player in your team. You know? The one who likes to punch people when they’re being dicks?” Piper retorts with a mocking grin.
“Yes, I know the one,” he groans before turning his attention back to me. His expression no longer holds that lethal edge to it, but it doesn’t look very remorseful either. “My apologies. It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, and it seems I’ve been a little too quick to jump to assumptions. It doesn’t justify my actions, but unfortunately, it’s my job to safeguard this club and its players. I apologize for my rudeness and hope it won’t color your judgment of me.” He then extends his hand for me totake. “Trent Nichols. I’m the general manager of the Guardians. Pleased to meet you.”
“Charlotte Moore,” I reply, giving his hand a hesitant quick shake.
“Awesome,” Piper interjects with a clap. “Now that you’ve been politely introduced, how about you skedaddle over to your side of the fence and leave my friend and me to enjoy the game?”
“Always a pleasure, Lee,” he says with unmistakable sarcasm.
“Likewise, Nichols.”
