Chapter Four

A mug was thrust into her line of sight, and Charlotte glanced up, bleary eyed, from her computer screen.

Lance had been on the phone and had walked out of his office about ten minutes ago—for privacy she assumed—and she was surprised he’d noticed she was out of coffee. “I added a shit ton of your fancy creamer, too, since you don’t have to pretend you’re macho like I do.”

“Yeah, if gross coffee is the price, I’ll pass.” She returned his smile as she took the warm offering in her hands and inhaled the delicious aroma. She took a sip, and her entire body perked up.

“I know we had a deal—you shared your pot with me, so I made more—but full disclosure, I’m also hoping to get in another hour or so of work. I’ve got to head to Nag’s Head, North Carolina on Monday, and since I’ll be there at the beach for a week, I’d like to get as much as possible done before then.”

She frowned. While there was definitely a string attached to her perfectly made cup of coffee, she was more concerned about the last part. “Let me get this straight. You fired most everyone on the Mustangs staff, and now you’re just going to go on a beach vacation?”

“It’s my brother’s wedding,” he said, and she wished she hadn’t voiced her incredulity.

“Oh. Well, a valid reason—”

“Gee, thanks for validating me,” he muttered, and she glared at him. Apparently their momentary truce was over.

“I wasn’t quite finished,” she said. “What I was going to say before you interrupted was, ‘But this stuff is never going to be done before you go.’ Even if I stay the extra hour or so this coffee will help get me through. Not to mention that with the draft coming up, we’re under a huge time crunch as it is.” Thanks to their horrible record last season they had first pick, so it was an even bigger deal than usual, one they couldn’t afford to waste. These kinds of decisions affected everyone involved in the entire franchise from the staff to the players and everyone in between. Plus their families.

“Which is why I’ll be working most of the time I’m in North Carolina.”

“I’ll try to hold down the fort here, but full disclosure, I’m going to have to send you a ton of paperwork to sign so I can get it all filed and we can get started on new contracts.”

His phone rang, and he sighed, a completely exhausted, frustrated noise.

She’d forwarded her desk line to her cell, and between paperwork and sorting through résumés, they’d both been on calls all day, so she understood. If she had to talk to one more person over the phone, she might lose the calm and collected manner she prided herself on. Even when people called to yell, she always kept her cool, although she did get firmer and sharper if necessary.

Lance answered with his name, already off and pacing around his office. After all day of doing so, she noticed he was favoring his right knee. She assumed he wouldn’t want her to ask about it, even if it would be to see if he needed ice or pain meds or something.

“Oh, she did, did she?” Lance glanced at Charlotte, and she fought paranoia. What did she do now?

I’m innocent! I’ve been in here with you the whole time!

Admittedly she’d thought several times about how nicely his slacks fit—he kept putting his hands in his pockets and stretching the fabric tighter across the ass she was filling out all this paperwork to protect. He’d also rolled up his sleeves, and she’d accidentally ogled the enticing line of his forearm, and okay, she wasn’t totally innocent. Maybe it was a good thing he was going to be out of town for a wedding. It’d give them time to get more people into the office and give her some distance from the guy, which would help tame her improper thoughts about him and his ridiculous body. And his deep voice, which continually affected her, regardless of whether he was being nice or completely impossible.

Although for the record, she’d behave either way.

Just to ensure she didn’t go thinking too much about things she shouldn’t, she promptly pulled up the inter-office dating policy. Despite already knowing it by heart, she read it to herself. Not only was dating in the office highly discouraged, section three, paragraph four clearly stated that supervisors must not date their direct reports. The restriction extended to every manager above an employee, and Lance was the very top of everything.

Not that she thought he would have a problem with wanting to date her—and she definitely didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary with someone so frustrating—but it was inappropriate for her to think about her boss in any way besides the guy who was making her life hell but she had to report to anyway.

Maybe there should be an inter-office ogling policy. I’ll write it up, and there will just be one word: don’t.

Lance muttered a few mmm-hms and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, it was lovely to meet you, but I can’t really talk right now.” Pause. “Later. Sure.” Pause. “Goodbye.”

He lowered the phone and glanced at her again, and her spine automatically straightened. “What?”

“My mother is giving out my number to women she wants to set me up with and telling them to call me.”

“Didn’t she hear that you made the most eligible bachelor list? No need for her to play matchmaker—soon you’ll have all sorts of women beating down your door.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m in much danger of that.” A horrified expression crossed his face. “Unless my mom gives them my address.”

“Or maybe I will,” she teased, acting like she was pulling up his information. Then she stuck out her pinky and her thumb and mimicked being on the phone. “Yes, you can go right on over to his place. He loves unexpected guests.”

He scowled at her, and she probably shouldn’t enjoy ruffling his feathers quite as much as she did, but she owed him after all his complaining about her forms, while being so useless at helping to fill them out. “Wouldn’t that be a violation of privacy?” he asked. “That’s gotta be in the handbook somewhere. I’m guessing you and your photographic memory even know which section.”

“I don’t have a photographic memory, but yes, yes I do know. I’m not going to spoil the read for you, though. You’re going to have to look it up yourself.”

He shook his head, but the corner of his mouth kicked up. Then his phone rang again. His brow furrowed before he answered it in his usual way. His posture tensed. He plopped into his seat and dropped his head into his hands. He was polite but short and made his apologies about needing to go.

“Another one?” she asked after he’d disconnected the call. Too late she realized that wasn’t any of her business, and asking was crossing a line she’d meant to keep firmly taut and far away from.

“Yep. Apparently my mom’s determined for me to have a date for the wedding, and her way of ensuring that was to give all of her friends’ single daughters my number.”

Charlotte laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s totally not funny,” she said, but then she laughed again.

His head tilt was slightly chiding, but a faint glint of humor lit his eyes. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this. Even though it’s cutting into time we could be using to fill out more of your ridiculous forms.”

“I do love me some forms,” she said, in spite of it being the least favorite part of her job. Under other circumstances, she might even agree some of them were overkill. “It’s just kind of nice seeing that even star football players have to deal with things like having their mothers attempt to set them up. Dating is…” She shuddered. “Last night my roommate convinced me to go to this speed dating event.”

“On a Wednesday?” he asked.

“She thinks the people out and about on weekends are fake single.”

“As in they’re in committed relationships but pretending otherwise?”

“More like they must not want a relationship enough if they only go looking on Friday and Saturday.” She waved a hand through the air. “I gave up trying to understand her theories a few months ago.” While her brain was saying this was another gray area path, her mouth kept on going anyway. “I’d say in those type of situations, the day of the week doesn’t much matter. Every time there are three times as many women as men. It’s like the dating Hunger Games, and the odds were not ever in my favor.”

Evidently he didn’t read a lot of young adult novels or keep up on popular culture, because there wasn’t so much as a flicker of recognition. “So, no luck?”

“My roommate ended up with two numbers. I ended up with a headache.”

Instead of the laugh she’d hoped for after her awesome joke, his eyebrows knitted together. “Were there a bunch of idiots there? Or were they just too scared to ask for your number?”

“I think they were uninterested as opposed to scared.”

He ran his gaze up and down her, and the temperature in the room shot up a couple of degrees. “Doubtful,” he said. “Did you recite all the rules to them? Quote the dating handbook?”

“Oh, so you’re saying it’s my personality. Maybe I should’ve turned on the charm and told them the only first down they’d ever make was shoving their heads up their asses.”

He huffed a laugh. “Hey, if you’re into that type of kinky stuff, go right ahead.”

She felt herself blush, and with her pale skin, there was no chance he wouldn’t notice. “I’m…that’s inappropriate. I’d never discuss… Pursuant to section three of the handbook, any discussion that would make fellow employees uncomfortable is to be avoided.”

“Jeez. What were you, raised by robots?”

“Nuns,” she said. “And a gambler father who inadvertently taught me that it was much safer to follow the rules.” The nuns comment was an oversimplification, but he’d stabbed at a raw spot.

A flicker of some sort of realization, along with a hint of pity, flashed through his features, and she cursed herself for reacting too strongly, the same way she had over the Vegas suggestion he’d made earlier. She was revealing too much, things she was usually so much better at keeping in the vault.

Lance held up his hands. “I don’t want to have to file any more paperwork than I already do, so I’m officially surrendering on this. That doesn’t require any special forms, does it?” He patted his pockets. “I seem to have misplaced my white flag.”

“Ha-ha. And don’t tempt me, because I could totally draw up a surrender form, one long enough it’d make you cry before you got to the end of it to date and sign.”

“Of that I have no doubt. Just plenty of fear.” He gave her a teasing smile, one that reanimated the long-dead butterflies in her stomach. Solidarity butterflies aided by appreciation over the fact that he’d let the subject drop, that was all. “Now, where was that résumé you wanted me to look at?”

She sorted through her stack of papers to the college coach she’d spotted in the mix. Usually the general manager would be heavily involved in this process, but considering they didn’t currently have one…

Honestly, it felt nice that he was giving her input some weight. Although it added a bit of pressure, too. It was one thing to sit on her couch on Sunday afternoons and the occasional weekday evening and yell that she could’ve done a better coaching job, but it was another thing to actually help pick who would be making the hard calls.

Lance’s lips moved as his gaze skimmed down Sean Bryant’s résumé. It was kinda cute how he muttered to himself as he read—in a buddy ol’ pal way. Not in a dang, his lips are rather sexy and I like the way they move way. Just to be clear.

“I assume you already read through his résumé?”

She nodded.

“Thoughts?”

“He’s a risk, no doubt about that. But he doesn’t play it safe, either. Yeah, I read his résumé, but I’ve also seen the way he works magic from the sidelines. In the six years he’s coached, his team has gone from one of the last in its division to one of the top.”

“But is he ready for the pressure of an NFL team? I could see him as maybe an assistant coach, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to just toss him the reins of our runaway horse.”

“Funny. Wild mustangs and all.”

His forehead crinkled for a second before it smoothed. “Pun not intended.” He sat back and ran his fingers across his jaw, and she forced her eyes to return to her screen so she wouldn’t go and start thinking about his nice jawline.

Now her anxiety was kicking in, making her worry about how many times she’d overreacted this afternoon—he was going to think she was an overly sensitive mess. Not far from the truth sometimes, but he didn’t need to know that. “Hey,” she said, and he looked up, and she wished she would’ve said her piece without getting his attention on her first. “Sorry I sort of snapped about the dating thing. And the robot thing.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Sometimes I think it would be easier to be a robot.” A mirthless laugh slipped out. “A lot of guys have disappointed me, and admittedly, I wasn’t trying very hard during the speed dating event. I mostly go along with my roommate’s plans because it’s what she wants. A relationship isn’t even at the bottom of my priority list.”

“I hear that. I’ve told my mom that I’m going to be far too busy to date, but obviously she doesn’t get it.”

“I do. Especially after working here. There are times when it’s too crazy to think about anything else. Anyway, I just wanted to clear the air.”

“Air cleared.” A smile slowly spread across his face, a hint of mocking to it.

“Okay, now I’m going to get mad about being the brunt of whatever joke’s going through your head.”

“It’s just…that chair is so big, and you’re so little it almost swallows you right up.”

“Yeah, because they’re built for football players.”

“I’ve known some big guys in my day, and even they wouldn’t be able to fill one of those chairs.”

“Well, you know what they say. Everything’s bigger in Texas.”

He laughed, and they were okay, and even better, she felt like they’d struck the right kind of balance. Friendly without going too far, the respectful vibe still there.

The clock at the top of her screen was blurry when she checked the time, the numbers letting her know how late it’d gotten. “My lunch barely counted as a lunch, and I need to go eat and get some sleep so we can cram in another long day tomorrow.”

“I understand. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

She nodded.

“You might as well leave all of your stuff. The chair can certainly accommodate it, and then you won’t have to lug it back in here.”

Sure. It made sense when he put it like that, but the thought of another day working so closely with him tugged at her already fraying nerves.

But what could she say? Not only was he the boss, the close quarters situation would only be for one more day…