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“Good morning, Connor.”My assistant, Connor, is the only person who ever beats me into the office on Monday mornings. I lucked out when I found him. He’d just graduated from Villanova and was young and hungry. He’s worked for me for almost two years and quickly became my right hand.
“Mornin’, Scarlet. It was a quiet weekend.” His big brown eyes look stricken as he says it before he makes the sign of the cross. “You know what that means.” Connor stands from his desk and hands me a binder with information I’d asked for last week.
“Yeah. Slow weekend means it’s about to be a crazy week.” I hold the binder up. “Thank you for putting this together so quickly.” Once I move into my corner office, I shut the door behind me before glancing out of my window at the stadium field below. This view never gets old.
The Philadelphia Kings offices have been my home since I was a little girl.
This team was my grandfather’s pride and joy before he died.
He used to say it was our legacy.
Every King needs his legacy.
My siblings and I grew up in these offices.
We ran on this field and played in those stands.
We were privileged in a way we didn’t understand at such young ages. But I understand it now. We all do. And everyone, in their own way, has tried to make their own path in the world. Whether that included the Kings or not.
We’re a family of overachievers. Max and I both got our MBAs from Wharton. Becks got his law degree from Harvard. Lenny came home with an MBA from Cambridge. The four of us knew we’d have jobs waiting for us with King Corp., but we wanted to make sure we earned those positions. That we were worthy of them, not just relying on our name and pedigree to get us there.
As I sit down at my desk and power up my laptop, I try to imagine doing this somewhere else. I’ve never wanted to work anywhere but here. I love my job. I’m the vice president in charge of public relations, and I’m fucking fantastic at it.
But I’ve always wanted more.
I’ve wanted Max’s job.
I’ve always known that one day he’d be general manager, and Dad would be president of Football Operations. There would never be anyone else. What none of us expected was for Dad to die so young and for Max to have to step into both roles.
And now he wants me to assume that role with the Revolution.
It’s not the team I love.
But it could be.
Can I do this?
Can I have the career I never dared to dream of because I thought it belonged to someone else?
Can I balance it with motherhood?
This dream may be newer, but it’s no less important.
Can I have it all?
I guess it’s time to find out.
An hour later, a knock at my door is followed by Becket’s head peeking around it. “You got a minute, Scarlet?”
I nod and save the document I was working on. “Sure. What’s up?”
Becks closes the door behind him, then leans against it and crosses his arms over his chest with a tortured look on his face. “Is it true?”
“You’re going to have to be more specific, Becket. I’m a lot of things, but a mind reader isn’t one of them.” Of course, what I am is full of shit because I know what he’s talking about. The Kingston kids have never been able to keep a secret. Tell one, tell all. No way was Hudson going to keep his big, fat mouth shut after Friday night. I’m just glad I got the weekend as a reprieve before this started.
Hudson tried calling and stopping by. And thanks to voicemail and a good doorman, I didn’t have to deal with him or anyone else for that matter. There’s something to be said for staying home in your pajamas while you read every pregnancy book ever written.
“Saint.” He moves across from my desk and drops into the chair. “Is Cade St. James the father, Scarlet? Did you really sleep with my best friend?”
