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The Raptors were upby three against the Rams thanks to a field goal our kicker had nailed a few minutes ago. We were looking solid from where I sat in the owner’s box along with a handful of organizers and other people who I’d given permission to.
“Weston!” Lena’s voice rang from the door, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
I forgot I’d given her a pass to come and go as she pleased when we had home games, and fuck me if it wasn’t shit timing. We hadn’t spoken since our fight a couple weeks ago other than her texting me that she was traveling for business.
Looked like she was back now.
I did the gentlemanly thing and stood up, accepting her quick hug as a greeting before I focused back on the game. Nixon—our quarterback—was one fire, having already thrown a fifty-yard pass that ended with a touchdown.
“Team is looking good this season,” Lena said.
Okay, so we were going to totally ignore the fight. I could do that, especially since it made me realize I needed to distance myself from her as respectably as possible. She was still a good ally to have and we got along fine. It was the terms of our relationship that needed to change, which included switching to purely platonic.
Nixon handed the ball off to Roman, our star running back, and he took off like a gunshot. Fuck, that guy was fast and totally worth the multi-million-dollar contract we’d signed him for.
The box erupted in cheers when he ran it in for another touchdown, and I bolted out of my seat, clapping like the guys could hear me.
“I need to talk to you about something concerning,” Lena said over the crowd, her hand tugging on my forearm until I sat back down.
“I thought I made myself very clear—”
“It’s about your assistant,” she cut me off, giving me whiplash. I thought she was bringing up the ultimatum again. “She was incredibly rude to me the other day—”
“Brynn?” I asked, finally focusing on her. “You’re talking about Brynn?”
“Yes,” she said, looking a little irritated that I needed the clarification. “She practically called me toxic and her work ethic is clearly not up to par. She’s probably stealing from you—”
“That’s enough,” I said, shaking my head. “Brynn isn’t up for discussion.”
“But, she—”
“Not. Up. For. Discussion.”
Lena sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Weston,” she said, all shock and feigned offense.
“You know better, Lena,” I said, trying to call back to our association that had spanned two years. “Brynn is my oldest friend and most trusted confidant. If there was a miscommunication between you two, that’s unfortunate. But I know her. She’s the least rude or selfish person on the planet.”
Lena tipped her chin slightly, taking a few moments to school her features into the camera-ready smile she was known for. “Fine,” she said. “What are your thoughts on the gala next month? I was thinking we should look into Gucci for matching outfits.”
“I haven’t thought about it,” I answered honestly, returning my focus to the game. We were almost to the half.
“Well, we’re still going together, aren’t we?” she asked.
“I don’t think—”
My phone buzzed in my pocket, stopping my words. I pulled it out, immediately swiping open to read the full text when I saw Brynn’s name.
Brynn:Wanted to make the game today, but I have the flu. Sorry. I have it on though. Nixon and Roman are crushing it! Have fun!
I stood up, pocketing my phone and heading toward the door.
“Weston!” Lena called, and I glanced over my shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“Something important came up,” I said. “Enjoy the game.”
BRYNN
