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“Let me take this back a step. Which way are you parked?”
Calista pointed to a student lot in the direction of visitor parking.
“Got ya. Now, as to dinner, you’re the new owner. The only way our dining alone together would be appropriate would be with the whole team there or with people in suits present, pushing to get me the best terms and highest salary, while your attorneys push back. That’s how interactions between the front office and players go.”
Calista blinked. “Do you need money? My checkbooks is the glove compartment, or I can use an app.”
“I don’t need your money.” Ronan pressed his lips down, crushing a forming smile. He did not want to find that offer endearing.
They crossed onto a lot and Calista went to a mid-size SUV in Snowers blue. Nothing fancy or new, but in perfect condition. He’d heard that her dad owned an auto repair shop, so the safe ride made sense. What the mid-price range vehicle didn’t fit with was that she owned the team. She should have a chauffeur, bodyguard, limo, or, at minimum, a luxury vehicle.
Questions about her bit at him. He liked to understand situations and take them down to their base level, but he was trying really hard to not be curious about her as a woman. If he asked, she’d get the wrong idea. He didn’t want to get sidetracked or send a mixed message, even though her vanilla scent and intriguing personality were luring him in.
Calista chirped open the door and tossed in her backpack.
Ronan checked the backseat for her. A gym bag and rolled up yoga mat lay on the floor. The rest of the space was empty. The light blue color of all her gear was the exact shade of the Snowers uniforms.
What kind of workout did she do beyond yoga? Calista was slender, but strong. He resisted asking the personal question. This was not a social meeting; this was business, and he shouldn’t have to keep reminding himself not to be curious about her. “I really do need to get the team’s questions answered, so we can move on. We could do that over a meal.”
Calista took a hair tie from her gear shift and put her hair up.
The golden strands swirled into a curvy knot that begged to be released. That mass of hair, in the sunset, on his pillow would be something to see.
Calista nodded. “I could eat.”
Got ya. “I don’t want to run into more fan interruptions or be seen on social media speaking privately with the new owner. You wouldn’t take my meaning wrong if I asked you back to my place?” In this light he noticed the shadows under her eyes. Was he being a jerk to keep at this with her? He couldn’t make himself take back the question. The sooner he got answers and the sooner he could establish more distance between them, the better for him, because what was good for his career was to distance himself from her. He had the discipline to make that happen, after he got his answers.
Calista seemed to have a million thoughts behind her clever green eyes. She said, “Drywall.”
That was no answer as to whether she felt comfortable going back to his place. Man, she was dragging him in, and he wanted to explore her obscure comment. “What?”
“I need to look at your drywall. It’s on a repair list Dodo gave me.” Calista tilted her head. “Like the locker room plumbing. Your drywall or the plumbing could be my special project for class.” She looked at him consideringly. “Is there six weeks’ worth of drywall damage at your rental?”
Calista spoke in riddles, making him itch to ask about the six-week project, but the team’s questions had to go first, not his interest. “Nope.”
“Too bad.” She climbed into the driver’s seat.
Okay, typically, classes weren’t that short, except during summer, nor did they run over winter break and have only four people. He resisted asking for more detail.
Calista toyed with her keys.
Dad swore that a man could learn a lot about a woman by paying attention to the small details on her everyday objects. Calista’s keyring had a miniature Snowers hockey puck. Expected. A small Swiss army knife. Interesting. And a sparkling silver ball with a seam. That he had no clue about.
Calista arched her eyebrows. “Dodo said you guys had a party.”
“No.” Ronan was more of a one beer, call if you need a ride kind of guy. Weird of Dodo to blame a party. Not the case, and odd of Dodo to put his rental house repair issue off on Calista. Not that Ronan cared how management divided up their responsibilities. Still, he would have preferred not to share the story of the wall damage with Calista, and now he had to. Shitty, embarrassing memory. “My ex threw a shoe at my head. The stiletto stuck in the wall. No big deal.”
Calista blinked rapidly. “Easy patch then.” She ran her thumb over her miniature puck. In a whisper, she asked, “What did you do?”
He liked her low voice. He’d confess a lot to that voice. “My ex-girlfriend was a frenzied ball of over-reactions. It’s why we didn’t work out. I’m a no-drama guy. When I walk away, I’m done.”
“Ah.”
He liked that sound on her lips entirely too much. His groin tightened, begging him to make her echo the sound all night long. He mentally kicked himself. Calista owned the team. He’d just told her about his love life. That was not the kind of story a man told his boss. He should have shrugged as if the cause of the damage didn’t matter. They needed to get going and get his teammates’ concerns over with. Ronan backed up a step. “You’re okay to drive? Not too tired?”
“It’s not far, right?”
All the properties the Applebaums leased to the guys were near the stadium. Ronan shook his head. “I’ll send you a pin with the address.” What did this ownership change mean to his lease? Didn’t matter. He would soon be traded and this would be a non-issue for him. That was what was great about renting through the organization, flexible terms allowed for his breaking his lease early.
