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“I’m not going to be around as much since I’ll be practicing again. I keep a pretty strict routine with extra workouts and an early dinner and bedtime.” He reached a hand up and pushed a lock of hair from my face. “But I’ll be there if you need me. Just call.”
I smiled warmly. “I will. Thank you.”
He kissed my forehead. “Goodnight, my not-friend.”
My smile went as crooked as my glasses. “Not friend?”
He winked. “You haven’t figured out what we are yet, but one thing we both know is that we are definitely not friends.”
CHAPTER 12
* * *
BELLA
I didn’t see Christian all week, and by Thursday I’d started to feel antsy.
Well, that’s not an entirely true statement. I saw him plenty. He just didn’t see me. Mostly that was because I watched him from my office window. Thank God for one-way glass because I’d spent an inordinate amount of time standing here.
Practice had ended for the day, but Christian was still out on the field with one of his wide receivers, throwing the ball around. The receiver missed the catch and ran after the ball, which skidded twenty yards farther. While Christian waited, he turned and lifted his hand to his face, shielding his eyes and looking up at where I stood. I knew he couldn’t see me, but I gasped and jumped away from the window.
My heart thundered in my chest as I stood against the wall, feeling like a peeping tom who’d just gotten caught. I really need to get a hold of myself.
I hadn’t yet regained my composure when my office door suddenly swung open. Tiffany saw me pressed against the wall, and her face twisted. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I, uh…” I pointed to the other side of the room. “I saw a mouse.”
She stepped back through the doorway. “Are you freaking kidding me? I’ve never seen a rodent here. You must’ve brought it from home.”
Her ridiculousness snapped me back to reality, and I stepped away from the wall. Walking to my desk, I sighed. “Yes, Tiffany. My name is Mary, and he followed me to work one day, work one day.”
Tiffany’s face wrinkled. “Are you…drunk?”
Guess she didn’t get the “Mary Had a Little Lamb” reference. I shook my head. “What can I do for you?”
“Other than deed over the title to the team that is rightfully mine and my real sister’s? I need you to sign-off on my new lease.”
“Lease?”
“Car lease.”
“Oh. Why do you need me to sign off on it?”
“Because our annoying CEO doesn’t allow any expenses over fifty thousand without a second approval. So I either need the GM’s or yours. You know, for a CEO who’s also acting president, he isn’t acting very presidential.”
I might not know my sister well, but I was certain she would only walk in here and ask me for something if I was a last resort. I tilted my head. “Did the GM not want to sign off on it for some reason?”
She pursed her lips. “He’s a jerk.”
I interpreted that to mean he wouldn’t sign off. But I wanted to keep the peace, so I held out my hand. “Is that the invoice?”
She marched in and handed it to me with a glare.
Slipping on my glasses, my eyes nearly bulged out of my head when I saw the number at the bottom of the invoice. “Three-hundred-and-sixty-seven-thousand dollars? I thought you said you were leasing it, not buying it.”
Tiffany lifted her fingernails for an inspection. “That is the lease price. It’s a three-year lease, so they put the total of all the payments.”
“You want to spend more than ten-thousand dollars a month on a car? You live in Manhattan and take a car service to work. How often will you even drive it?”
“Just sign the damn thing. No one asked for your opinion.”
“Is this what you always spend on a car lease?”
“My last one might’ve been a little less.”
“How much less?”
She shrugged. “I’m not an accountant. I don’t get involved in the details. Are you going to sign it or what?”
I wasn’t sure how to handle this. If I didn’t let it through, she was going to make my life a living hell whenever she could. But if I allowed it, would I be opening the door for her to do whatever she wanted? I looked her in the eyes. “Can I take the weekend to think about it? Twenty-five percent of the team is owned by investors, and we have a duty to them to not pad expenses since we share the bottom line.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“If I am, then I’m obviously not alone if both Tom and the GM wouldn’t sign off on it.”
Tiffany huffed and stormed out of my office, slamming the door like an exclamation mark at the end of her rant. I sat down, staring at the invoice, still in disbelief. The stated value of the car was one-point-two-million dollars. How much did insurance cost on that type of vehicle? More than my annual rent, I was sure.
