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“We’re not having this conversation.” I walk away without another word, my mom laughing as I head over to say hello to Giles Hanover, the previous owner.
Truth is, the guy is a pompous ass, so I’m happy he won’t be the owner anymore.
My mom doesn’t follow, probably sensing that I’m done with this conversation. Which is a good thing, otherwise I’m sure she’d suspect that I’m struggling to remember that Violet is my employee, not my plaything.
Nine
Brady
The press conference goes fine, though we get a lot of questions about me receiving preferential treatment now that my parents are at the helm. We assured the press there won’t be, and if they knew my parents, they’d know that to be true. This is an investment for them, and like all the investments they’ve made, they’re looking for a return. My parents are adept at separating business from their personal lives, and I have no doubt that if they thought it was time for me to move on from football, they’d tell me.
Training camp starts in less than a month, so I’ve invited some of the guys over to work out in my gym. They all live in San Francisco like me, and although we’re welcome to use the Kingsmen training facility, it takes close to an hour to drive there.
“Can I get a water?” Chase drops the eighty-pound weights he’s using and asks over “Rapper’s Delight” by Sugarhill Gang, which plays out of the surround-sound speakers.
I nod toward the small kitchen in the corner of the mirrored room. “In the fridge there. Help yourself.”
“Pass me something, man?” Miles says from the treadmill where he’s getting started on a run.
“Me too,” Lee says from the bench press.
“What am I, a fucking waitress now?” Chase grumbles, tossing them each an energy drink.
“There’s a good tip in it for you.” Lee winks at him, and Chase rolls his eyes.
“When do we get to meet the gymnast? Oh shit, sorry, I mean the new nanny.” Miles laughs and downs half of his bottle.
I wish I’d never told them that about her being like a gymnast. I know Miles enough to know that he’s more making fun of me for calling her that than anything to do with her.
I grimace at the weight I’m lifting as I finish my last set of bicep reps, then set down the weights and give him my attention. “Shut the fuck up.”
Chase raises both hands. “I can’t speak for Cavanaugh, but I don’t do sloppy seconds.” He winks as if that should make me feel better.
Thank goodness I pushed Violet to take Theo to the park so she can’t overhear all this shit from my supposed friends.
“Don’t be a pig.” I don’t like the idea of anyone talking about Violet like that.
“Methinks the man doth protest too much,” Miles says, breathless from his run.
“I don’t think that’s how it goes,” I say, walking over and upping the speed on him.
He almost loses his traction but quickly presses the speed back down and flips me off. The problem with having professional athletes as friends is their reflexes are too damn good.
He gives me a “no shit” look. “I know that.”
I roll my eyes at my bookworm friend.
“So nothing has happened between you guys?” Lee asks, toweling off his face.
I shake my head. “I told you all, she works for me now. Nothing is gonna happen.”
“Yeah, but you also went on and on about what a great lay she was,” Miles says. “And you actually searched her out. Does she know she’s living with her stalker?” His tone is dead serious, and I throw my empty water bottle at him. Of course he dodges it.
My stomach turns at the thought of these guys knowing intimate details about Violet becauseI’mthe one who supplied them with the information. I always thought I was a gentleman because I make sure the women know the deal before we sleep together, but maybe I’m not as much of a stand-up guy as I thought. “Doesn’t matter. Theo comes first, and he really likes her. She’s great with him. I can’t screw that up for him while Hannah is away.”
Lee walks past me, claps me on the shoulder, and picks up the sixty-pound dumbbells to do laterals. “You’re a good dad.”
“Thanks.” I don’t feel like a good dad when I’m mentally undressing Violet when she bends over to grab a Lego piece or when I’m in my shower, tugging on my cock with memories of our night together.
