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CHAPTER39
Calista absolutely loved him. In ways and depths she didn’t know she had. She wanted him to have the world. Calista could not lie to him, she had to do what was best for the Snowers. She met his beautiful blue gaze. “Never.”
Ronan frowned, looking a combination of hurt and furious. “I vote Amvehl. Welcome to the organization, Ms. Amvehl.” He sat back down, but he was looking at her like she was a stranger, as if he felt nothing for her.
Calista breathed out and back in too rapidly. Ronan voted her way. She’d get the team, but she wouldn’t be able to have him. Her happiness was split in half by heartbreak, and the contradiction was beyond her emotional capacity.
Piper and Dahlia, on either side of her, each placed a supportive hand on her arms. Calista didn’t look away from Ronan.
Dodo cursed. “Talent isn’t everything. An organization has to run right. You know GM Hollis will walk. With things not working, how long are the men going to keep up their stellar play? Stressed talent fails, it’s the truth. I thought the arbitration would settle everyone’s concerns, prove the contract unworkable. All we’re causing is division.”
The judge tapped on the table in front of Calista, pulling her focus. “Dodo’s not wrong. I’m leaning back and forth, and to be honest, I came into this with less than an open mind. Give me something here to show you can handle this responsibility not only to the team, but for the organization’s commitments.”
Just like freaking Project Genius. Show your work, tell us your plans. The re-piping, the new stadium seats, the family condos, the hotel… “There’s a ton.” Which part did he want to know? What would sway him?
Calista knew she was overthinking the huge important question, or underthinking it. She had to take this down to the core. The judge was concerned about the future of the organization. The GM role was critical. She could tackle that, just that one piece. “I have GM Olson Urqhardt signed if this goes my way.”
Ronan jolted, and his chair rolled back.
Heads whipped toward her. All eyes, shocked with surprise, were on her. The judge whistled in the silent room.
Yeah.
Dodo’s face flushed red, and he sank low in his seat.
Judge Johnston lifted a piece of paper and scrawled his name along the bottom. “Decision made. Seventy percent to the Amvehls.”
* * *
Ronan breathed in the cool, misty air of home. He stared out at the dark green trees of the vistas from the backyard. Mom was setting out refreshments. Dad stood with him on the grass as he had done for the big dilemmas, the whole of Ronan’s life. Ronan told them everything.
“Of course we want you back here.” Dad pulled his hood up and moved under the patio. “Is it best for the Snowers team if you stay with them?” Dad had a reasonable, sympathetic tone.
“Yes.” Ronan knew he sounded gruff, but Dad would understand. He joined him under the shelter.
“Is your staying best for the organization?” Dad continued.
“Yes.” Ronan’s word was grudging.
“Calista kept business and your personal life separate.” Dad put his hand on Ronan’s shoulder. “And you’re angry, because you didn’t?”
“He’s hurt.” Mom hooked her arm around Dad’s waist. “He put Calista first. She put the Snowers first.”
“Why?” Dad asked. “Why did you vote for Calista?”
“I love her. I wouldn’t have done anything else.”
Dad dropped his arm around his shoulders. “Not everyone has your clarity of purpose and moves, Son. Talk to her. Because despite Calista’s decision, your Mom and I believe she loves you too.”
The rock that was his heart eased, and Ronan nodded. He wanted to go back to Austin, to Calista. He just wished the decision had been his, not hers holding a contract, and forcing his hand.
* * *
Kiernan picked him up at the Austin Bergstrom airport in a black sports car blasting Irish rock music. Heads turned. Ronan pulled his ball cap lower and shoved on his shades. He dropped his duffel in the trunk and squished his body into the passenger seat. He never understood his fellow athletes who preferred cars more sized to fit jockeys. But he said nothing, because, hey, a friend wasn’t something he was turning away today.
Kiernan slowed to take the corner. “Gonna say something? Or do I have to buy you a beer to pry the sulk out of you?”
Ronan rubbed the scruff on his jaw and dropped his arm against the door by the window, feeling the hot Texas sun on his skin where the cuff of his henley ended. “What’s there to say? You know the deal, man, the front office is treating us like pawns, and in this case, blocking my move.” He couldn’t speak to the confusion on the inside, his men needed him to be stronger than that.
