“Oh?” Mr. Stevens raises a brow, but even that one word expresses that he’s humoring me. “You’ve hired a consultant?”
“Jordan Atkinson,” I say calmly. Mr. Stevens and company may be harder to convince than I anticipated coming in, but I’ll keep my cool. That’s the Bennet sister way. After years as being portrayed as the emotional younger sister, I’ve worked hard to turn that image around. To show I’ve grown up and grown out of that kind of behavior. I push away thoughts crowding my brain, tempting me to demand to know who’s balking and what happened to make them second-guess this deal. Last I spoke with Mr. Stevens, he insinuated that everyone was on board.
I relax my shoulders—again—and give a little bit of Jordan’s résumé, explaining why he’s a great fit for working with me to make the White Wolves a success.
Mr. Stevens nods, but there’s hesitance in his expression that says I haven’t quite secured him yet. What more can I promise this man? I involuntarily glance over at Erin again, who’s anever-present reminder that the success of my show and the ability to direct the narrative relies on me being the owner of a hockey team.
“You’re clearly as ambitious as your sister, Ellie. I admire that,” Mr. Stevens says. There’s an unspokenbutat the end of that sentence, probably about her being ten years older than me.
“We both know Ellie could’ve bought the Devils years ago at my age and stopped them from their spiral,” I say, raising one eyebrow knowingly.
Mr. Stevens chuckles. “That might be true. She had Will Pemberton at her side even then, though.”
I keep a pleasant smile on, all while wanting to strangle him. Will and Ellie are definitely in a partnership in their ownership of the Devils, but she doesn’tneedhim to do it. “Are you implying that a Bennet would need a man at her side to understand football ownership?” I chuckle lightly, as though I’d never believe that Mr. Stevens could have meant it that way. The Bennets are a football dynasty.
Mr. Stevens’s cheeks redden, and he chuckles too, though it sounds forced. “Of course not. But appearances matter in these things.”
The idea that me or my sisters need the men in our lives for our business ventures to seem legitimate makes my blood boil. But with both the cameras from the show on me and the executives watching my every move—waiting, I’m sure, for me to prove I’m still that emotional girl I’ve always been portrayed as—I can’t lash out at what he’s implying.
“Thankfully, I’ll have Jordan,” I say brightly. “That should help withappearances.” I can’t help the shade that sneaks into my tone on that word.
“The consultant.” Mr. Stevens nods, but his tone dismisses Jordan’s value. It’s all I can do not to growl.
It feels like I’m losing this deal I’ve worked so hard for, and why? Because I’m a woman. A young, unstable woman. Maybe it’s not just old fans and celebrity media sites that still see methat way. Maybe these people do too. It’s a catch-22. I can’t show the world how I’ve grown up without this team, but they won’t give me the team unless I’m grown up.
An idea hits me. It’s wild, but something I’m sure would secure this. It could turn a young, twenty-something single woman into a mature young adult. At least in Mr. Stevens’s eyes. He’s already insinuated it.
Marriage.
It’s ridiculous, but I need this team. I look over at Erin. She’s paying very close attention, and there’s no doubt that she’ll report to Victoria whatever happens here today. I have to buy this team, or they get control over my story. They’ll pick the new hook, and it will be whatever brings in viewers. The reinvention of Libby Bennet will turn into the sequel of her old story. I need to prove to everyone that I can be as successful as my sisters. I can do this. Ihaveto do this.
I don’t stop to think about what comes spilling out of my mouth. I’m too desperate. “Well, perhaps there’s another announcement that I’ve been keeping under wraps that will help the league feel better about this deal,” I say with a bit of tease to my voice. A side look at Erin shows her leaning forward. “You see, hiring Jordan was a bit of nepotism.” I give a good-natured grimace and am rewarded by some light laughs. “We’ve kept it a big secret, for obvious reasons. We don’t want paparazzi at the wedding, if you know what I mean.” I put a finger to my lips and play to my crowd. When I look over at Erin to see her reaction, her eyes are as wide as saucers.
“Well,” Mr. Stevens says, surprised. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” I say demurely. Ugh. I want to puke. Mr. Stevens’s expression is already adjusting, changing his view. Because I’ve told him I’m getting married. My stomach roils that I’m doing this, playing to his misogyny to get what I want. I grit my teeth. I will still run things. In the end, when I have a championship team, it won’t matter what Mr. Stevens thinks. I’ll play the game now and stick it to him and all the others later.
“We’re excited, of course,” I go on. I haven’t acted this much since my last episode ofBeing the Bennets. “So, I’m sure we can agree that with Jordan and me at the helm together, alongside the vast experience of the Bennets, this would be a great move for the Denver White Wolves.” I smile sweetly, raising my brows, telling Mr. Stevens and the execs to make their move. I tilt my head ever so subtly toward the camera. “I’d be happy to add capital to the escrow to cover a couple years of operating costs as well as discuss any capital for facilities upgrades if this would ease concerns more.”
Mr. Stevens is already nodding, along with several others. “Yes, I think that would put any lingering concerns to rest. I’ll touch base with the board and call you tomorrow.”
“Of course. Thank you for allowing me to discuss the issues with you all today.”
We sign off. I think I can saynowthat I have the ownership in the bag.
I turn to Erin. “Everything you heard about the wedding is top secret,” I admonish firmly. Erin nods. “If I hear that anyone has leaked this—” I turn to eye the cameraman. “—I will have people fired without feeling bad about it. And since you two are the only ones in the room right now…”
The cameraman’s jaw drops at the implication.
“Of course, Ms. Bennet,” Erin says.
I nod. “I need the room, please.” I keep my voice in control, even though my brain is screaming at me. Cool, calm, confident in any situation. That’s who Libby Bennet is going to be now. “My assistant will be in touch to confirm our next scheduled shoot.”
Erin nods again, and she and the camera guy scurry out of my office. I shut the door and lean against it. Then I slide down so I’m sitting on the floor.
“Oh, no, no, no, no, no…” I say.
What did I just do?
