Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
"Ugh." Her grip tightens on my arm suddenly. "Charles Montaque is heading this way."
My stomach quivers with anxiety. Charles Montaque is one of the biggest investigative sports reporters in DC. My dad hates him because he's a snake. He says he'll smile in your face and then stab you in the back without hesitation. Not exactly the guy I want to see right now, especially not when I'm in the jersey Nash literally took off his own back to give me.
I glance up, confirming that he's heading toward us, dressed in a dark suit and tie. He's in his mid-forties with carefully gelled hair and blue eyes. I suppose people probably think he's handsome, but he just looks like a problem to me.
"Just let me do the talking," Alice instructs as he quickly closes the distance between us. "I know how to deal with him."
"Alice! Just the publicist I was hoping to see." Charles grins, his blue eyes flickering from her to me and then back. "And who is this?"
"Charles," Alice says, her tone cool. "This is our new staff psychologist, Emilia. Emilia, this is Charles Montaque."
"Hello," I murmur politely.
"Emilia," he says, cocking his head to the side. "Lariat's daughter?"
"Yes, and?" Alice asks, her tone acerbic.
"Hey, now." He laughs easily. "I was just making a connection, not implying anything."
"Good to know. I'd hate for yet another woman in this field to be accused of not deserving the job she earned." Alice looks at him pointedly. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"
"Right." He looks mildly uncomfortable. Interesting. "I was coming to see you about a rumor."
I tense, holding my breath. If he got wind of Nash's little display, there will be no stopping my dad from finding out.
"What rumor?"
"It involves Logan Moreno's sister," he says. "I tried to set up a meeting with him to discuss it, but he was…less than enthusiastic."
The fact that he isn't here about Nash should be relieving, but this is honestly just as bad. I read through the former psychologist's notes on Logan this morning. He has a sister who has been involuntarily committed multiple times for schizophrenia. He's fiercely protective, going out of his way to keep any information about her from leaking.
"What about his sister?" Alice asks.
"The rumor is that she's in an insane asylum."
I stiffen, narrowing my eyes at him.
"An insane asylum? Really, Charles?" Alice scoffs at him, disgust heavy in her voice. "You're going to stand in front of a trained mental health professional and insult people with mental health conditions?"
"I didn't mean it that way. Jesus, Alice."
"You said it," she points out. "At least have the balls to own it."
"Fair enough." He holds his hands up in surrender. "I apologize. It's a shitty term. But the question remains."
"And it's a ridiculous question unworthy of an answer." Alice steps around him, gently dragging me along with her. "When you have something worth discussing, I'll be happy to talk it over with you. But this isn't it."
Whether Logan's sister is currently committed or not, I don't know. But I'm guessing Alice does. And she absolutely doesn't want this man to know. My respect for her grows. She is a bulldog for this team. That's exactly what they need, especially guys Logan and Micah, with family members to protect.
"I cannot stand that man," she mutters when we're out of earshot.
"I didn't notice," I murmur dryly.
"He's a misogynistic rat. He wrote a hit piece a couple years ago, heavily insinuating that women who work in sports are only hired to meet diversity quotas. Never mind the fact that most of us have as much, if not more, education and experience than men in comparable positions in the field." She scowls. "I want to punch him in the face every time I see him."
"I'll help," I volunteer cheerfully, glancing over my shoulder to see him staring after us, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He does not look happy.
Crap. He's going to be a problem. I feel it in my bones.
I just hope he isn't a freaking problem for Logan…or for me and Nash.
A little over two hours later, Nash appears in the doorway to my office, leaning against the frame with a smirk on his face. Heat waves through me at the sight of him in his suit. Lord, he makes it look good.
"Damn," he murmurs, looking me up and down. "You look good wearing my name."
"Charles Montaque thinks so too."
He blanches, a dangerous growl rumbling from his lips. His body tenses as he pushes away from the doorframe, striding toward me. "Did that prick say something to you?"
"I'm just teasing, Nash." I tip my head back, staring up at him. "I met him after the game. I felt like I had a freaking target on my back."
"Because of me," he says, his gaze flickering across my face.