I grab my briefcase and head for the subway.
The train rideto Manhattan gives me exactly twenty-three minutes to get my head straight. I review my notes on Liam Novak's recent scandals, or Nova as the tabloids call him.
Photographed leaving three different nightclubs with three different women in the span of two weeks, a social media feud with a rival player that got ugly, and a DUI from last season that somehow got buried by the PR team.
My job is simple. Clean up his image, keep him out of trouble until the Stanley Cup, and make sure his endorsement deals stayintact. All in three months. It's exactly the kind of challenge I excel at.
What I don't excel at is pretending I've never seen a client naked. Well, I imagine I won’t excel at it, considering this will be the first time I’ll have to do it.
Madison Square Garden looms ahead as I exit the subway. The arena is quiet but it’s intimidating. Taking a deep breath, I follow the signs to the administrative offices, my heels clicking against the polished floors.
“Avery Carter?” A pretty, dark-haired woman in her forties approaches me, a smile on her face. “I'm Jennifer McCall, Head of PR for the Renegades. Welcome to New York.”
“Thank you. I'm excited to get started.”
Jennifer leads me through a maze of corridors lined with team photos and championship banners. “I won't lie to you. Liam is going to be a challenge. He's talented, charismatic, and completely unwilling to listen to authority figures.”
“I've handled difficult clients before.” Liam being uncooperative is not my biggest problem. At all.
“I'm sure you have. But Liam has a way of getting under people's skin.”
If she knew that he's gotten not only under my skin, but into my panties, she’d fire me on the spot.
Jennifer stops outside a conference room. “He should be here any minute. I'll let you get settled.”
The conference room has a view of the arena floor below. I set up my materials at the head of the table while trying to ease my racing heart.
Needing something to do, I pour myself coffee from the machine in the corner, adding exactly two sugars. The familiar ritual calms my nerves slightly.
Then the door opens behind me, and I don't need to turn around to know it's him. I can feel his presence like a shift in the air pressure.
I whirl around and there he is. Liam Novak in the flesh, looking exactly like he did three months ago and somehow even better. Dark hair slightly mussed, that perfectly groomed beard, and those dark eyes that make it impossible to look away.
He's wearing jeans and a Renegades hoodie, and somehow that makes this worse. He looks like the man who whispered filthy promises in my ear, not like a client I need to manage.
Our eyes meet, and I see the exact moment recognition hits him. A slow smirk spreads across his face. It’s the same expression he wore when I told him I wanted to hear exactly what he planned to do to me.
My panties dampen.
“Liam Novak,” Jennifer says, appearing beside him. “Meet Avery Carter, your new publicist. Avery, this is Liam.”
I extend my hand, proud of how composed I am. “Mr. Novak. It's a pleasure to meet you.”
His hand engulfs mine, warm and calloused, and for just a second, his thumb brushes across my knuckles. Electrical currents shoot from my hand to my already soaking pussy.
How am I going to do this, if one look, one touch, has my body craving him?
“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, his voice pitched low enough that only I can hear the double meaning.
“I'll leave you two to discuss strategy,” Jennifer announces. “Avery, let me know if you need anything.”
The door closes behind her, and suddenly we're alone.
Liam studies me, probably trying to reconcile the put-together woman in front of him with the one who rode him until we both reached oblivion.
I clear my throat and gesture to the chair across from me. “Please, have a seat. I'd like to go over your current situation and outline a plan for moving forward.”
He doesn't move. “Avery Carter. I preferred just Avery.”
