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I stop just outside my office door, hearing two unmistakable bickering voices inside.
I groan and step in.
As I do, Marcus and Ryan both look up.
"Well, well, look who decided to show," Ryan teases with a mock glare. "Thought you forgot where your office was."
I roll my eyes and take my place behind the desk. "Have you? Last I checked, this was my office."
Marcus smirks and leans back. "Just making sure you're not slipping into vacation mode with the new help, buddy.”
I shoot him a look. "Relax. I've got everything under control."
"Speaking of control," Ryan says, "did you check the itinerary for the New York event next month?”
I nod, pulling up the file. "Got it this morning. Looks set, but I'll double-check with our contacts." I glance at Marcus. "We're having Talia Roy handle it?"
"Yup. My company's covering the media," Marcus replies.
"And Tao, my restaurant, is catering," adds Ryan.
I nod. "Perfect."
"So, you're coming, right?" Marcus asks.
"To New York?" I raise an eyebrow. "Why would I?"
"It's a joint event with the New York Knights," he reminds me. "And you're the majority owner of the Seattle Storm."
"Marc, seriously. When have I ever cared about these charity galas?" I say, dreading another trip.
But Marcus grins. "Oh come on, Aide. It's for 'Save the Turtles with Ties'. How can you resist that?"
"It'll be fun," Ryan adds, barely holding back a laugh. "A gala with influential people supporting turtles in tiny, fashionable ties. Charity, fashion, and reptiles all in one. How can you say no?"
I scribble a note on my to-do list. "Absolutely not. There's how I say no."
Marcus laughs, then turns serious. "Look, not to be a downer, but the local press is tearing you apart after your dad's last buy." His brows furrow. "He's getting into San Francisco events after buying a huge stake in the Furies. It's making you look bad."
"Jesus. The man doesn't even like baseball. He's just trying to drive me insane. Remember Youth League? He barely showed. Said he had 'better things to do.'"
Marcus frowns, and Ryan leans in.
"His PR stunt's working," Ryan adds. "Your dad's a Seattle legend. His finance company employs half the city. You'll need major damage control to avoid backlash."
"Of course." I drop my pen, a sting in my fingertips. "Doesn't matter that he's a prick who doesn’t talk to his own son and granddaughter. The city still sees him as a hero."
Marcus pipes in. “And the last time I checked, you were the one who didn’t talk to him.”
“You know I have my reasons for that, Marc.”
"But that's why we're here, right?" Ryan jumps up from my leather office couch. He heads towards the bar in the corner of the room, pouring himself two fingers of whiskey. "To help you navigate this mess."
"And to make sure you don't end up cursing out some local journalist when the press comes buzzing," Marcus chuckles.
I groan and lean back, feeling the weight of our team's reputation and expectations. "Thanks for the reminder."
"And besides," Ryan says, glancing back, "with Grace's new nanny, you've got the help you need now, right?"
