Page 38 of Her Game Plan

His focus doesn’t shift from the road as he murmurs, “Don’t I always?”

“You do. And it’s… been better than I expected,” I admit to him.

I tilt my head, studying him. I never expected him to agree to being part of the business conversations so easily, but then again, he’s not what I expected. The Callan Devine I thought I knew was cocky. Confident. A little too preoccupied with what people think about him. But the version of Callan I’ve seen this last month? He would cut off his throwing arm if you told him you needed it, no questions asked. It’s almost worrying how willing he is to bend over backward for others, even if I’m the one currently taking advantage of his kindness.

With guilt gnawing at my stomach at the thought that I’m using him, I ask, “Why did you agree to do this?”

His fists tighten on the steering wheel as he takes the turn into downtown Denver. “The financial health of the football team is as important to me as it is to you.”

“That’s not what I mean.” I spot the valet outside the Four Seasons and point Callan to it. “Why did you agree to fake date me?”

He puts the car into park in front of the stand and turns his attention to me. “Because you asked, Princess. You can keep asking me different iterations of that same question, but you’re not going to get a better answer. You asked, and I had the ability to say yes, so I did.”

The slightly sweaty face of the valet appears in the window behind Callan’s shoulder, so I decide to let it go. “Okay.”

We walk into the main lobby and, following the signs, start up the glass-sided stairs.

“Here.” Callan grabs my hand and tucks it into the crook of his elbow, helping me navigate the tile stairs in my floor-length dress.

I squeeze his arm gently. “Thanks. I appreciate the help.” And I hope he knows I mean more than just the assist up the stairs. I mean, fake dating me, going to family dinner, explaining the finer details of football to me each day on our drive home, and treating me better than any real boyfriend ever has.

It’s fortunate I have no plans on settling down because Callan Devine is setting the bar impossibly high for future boyfriends.

We reach the door to the banquet hall our event is being held in that night—a fundraiser for Denver city schools put on by a high-net-worth wealth management company my dad has worked with in the past—and Callan directs us to the side of the welcome area. “I brought us a couple of good-luck clusters.” He extracts four Nerds Clusters from his pockets, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re the best date a girl could ask for!” I gasp, my chest tightening at the unexpected gesture.

He laughs. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that about me. I guess all I needed was to up my clusters game.” He takes the two I left in his palm and tosses them into his mouth as I do the same. “Now we’re invincible.”

“I didn’t realize Nerds Clusters could turn you into a superhero, but I should’ve suspected.” I place my fists on my hips and jut my chin into the air.

“The Princess-anator,” Callan intones.

I drop my hands and swat at his chest. “Ah, come on, I’d have a cooler name than that.”

He slips his fingers through mine, my pulse quickening at the casual gesture, and he pulls me toward the doors to the room. “Super Princess?”

When we enter, I scan the crowd, looking for the people on my list. “Getting better, at least.”

“There’s Tate Calloway.” Callan uses his chin to indicate a location behind me. “Wonder Princess?”

Sliding to the side so the heir to a cable fortune has a direct line of sight to Callan, I tease, “Not very creative, are you?”

“Pshh. Just you wait. I’m going to get Marlee to help me come up with something at the next family dinner. It’s going to be the best superhero name you’ve ever heard.”

“Hello,” a deep voice says from behind me. “Apologies for the interruptions, but I wanted to introduce myself.”

I turn and step to the side as a large man with dark hair and an expensive navy-blue suit joins our group.

“I’m Tate Calloway,” he continues, his smile and gaze directed solely at Callan. “I’m a big fan.”

I fight back my triumphant smirk. Game time.

“Of course, Mr. Calloway. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Callan shakes his hand before turning to me. “Have you met my girlfriend, Charlotte Langford?”

I hate that it’s a better decision to introduce me as his girlfriend, rather than the acting team owner. Not enough to choose not to take advantage of it, of course, but enough to be slightly annoyed on behalf of all womankind.

“Mr. Calloway, I think we met at that golf tournament a few years back.” I offer a friendly smile. Tate Calloway’s company isn’t my top choice to secure as sponsor, but he’s close. Maybe third. Second, if you consider the fact that he looks like he could be a professional athlete himself. Though, I found that a far more interesting aspect of him before I started spending time with a real one… or maybe it’s Callan he can’t compete with.