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Allie dreaded the mixer mostly because she only knew Eddie and Kyle, and she had no intention of sticking to either one. The last thing she needed was a billboard advertising that she was the boss’s niece.
She arrived late, but not too late. Most everyone was there, milling about, carrying glasses of wine or champagne. Others were stationed near the buffet tables which looked pretty meagre. Cheap cold cuts, some cubed cheese and other mangy hors d’oeuvres. The vegetable platters looked a few days old, the carrots with white on them, the poor cauliflower browning. The tiny tray of cheap supermarket desserts was barely touched. She had no idea who was in charge of this, but they should have been fired. Eddie would never think to serve this crap to his business colleagues, so why serve it to elite athletes?
Allie swiped a white wine from one of the few servers. She sipped it, recoiling at the bitterness but getting her senses again and scanning the crowd for anyone she might know. Eddie was chatting with some higher-ups, and Kyle and his security crew were fawning over a couple of players who were ignoring them in return. No friendly faces available. Then she saw Cavallo, standing at the opposite end of the room presumably talking to a teammate. She took a long look at him. He had the broody exterior going for him, complete with unkempt hair, penetrating dark eyes and a shadow of a beard. She could see how women would fall all over themselves, but not her. She needed and wanted him, but not in any way he’d like.
Should she interrupt them? If she didn’t, would there ever be a good time to approach him? If he was as useless as Kyle made him seem, she wanted to know now instead of waiting to find out later. If he was a dud, it was better to write him off as quickly as possible. Maybe next year she’d quietly have him removed and try and find a player rep who cared, who was ready to get his hands dirty. For now, she was stuck with Cavallo.
She downed her wine and set across the room. The closer she got, the more her stomach grumbled. School was easy. Getting great marks, studying, coming up with ideas, implementing those ideas, she excelled at all that, but talking to people? Not so much, especially the male variety who were pumped up with far more testosterone than they needed. Before Yale, years before, she’d interned with the Falcons. She couldn’t remember a guy who’d been nice to her. They didn’t know who she was and that’s the way she wanted it. Sure, they would have been more pleasant, maybe even more respectful to a wide-eyed nineteen-year-old with the last name Stewart, but they looked down on her and her dowdy clothes, enormous glasses and the bit of pudge. That old self-conscious Allie was gone, but some of the self-esteem issues remained.
Thankfully, that was nine years ago. None of those players remained.
By the time she reached Cavallo, her heart was pounding so hard she could barely organize the thoughts racing through her head. She stood a few feet from the two men and both turned to look down at her. They towered over her five-foot-five frame and since she didn’t like to wear heels, at least to bridge the gap, she found herself looking up into the big brown eyes of Will Cavallo. His expression didn’t change, just a blank but hard look as if to ask her what she could possibly want with him. She took in a breath, refusing to be intimidated, to be laughed at like that nineteen-year-old. It didn’t help that Cavallo had a rugged handsomeness about him that made her shrink even more under his gaze.
“I’m Allie Stewart,” she said, extending her hand. Her voice held its own.
He looked at her hand and reluctantly shook it. His calloused grip held hers firmly, but not too tight. She thought to pull away, but she kind of liked her hand where it was.
“Will Cavallo,” he said.
“Yes, I knew that,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Nope, I’m shoving off,” his teammate said. Allie recognized him to be one of the forwards. Patterson? Lindholm? She couldn’t remember. “Will, we’ll talk,” he said and wandered back into the fray.
“I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Allie Stewart.”
“Yeah, you already said that.”
Her cheeks flushed and every part of her body swayed. Could he see it? “Right. I’m heading up the Falcon Foundation events with Kyle and he mentioned you were the player rep. I thought we could talk, bounce some ideas off of each other? I figured this was the best way to talk to you instead of going through Dwayne at HR. It’s crazy the hoops I’d have to go through to get in contact with you otherwise. I have to fill out a form. Isn’t that crazy? I mean, we all work in the same place. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?” She was babbling and she knew it. Why was this guy having such an effect on her? She wanted to start over, act cool and confident and not like a total idiot.
His gaze didn’t change and for a long moment he said nothing. The floor felt like quicksand, slowly sucking Allie in.
“Did you talk to Tiffani?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t had the opportunity yet. I thought I’d approach you first.”
He blinked a few times. “Talk to Tiffani.”
His dismissiveness didn’t deter her. “I certainly will, but I want to go in a different direction this year. I’ve got a lot of ideas and if I have you on board, I think we can make those ideas happen.”
He folded his arms over his chest, a hint of a smile spreading across his lips. “Are you nuts? I know you’re Eddie’s niece, but Tiffani will destroy you.”
Allie scrunched up her face. One of the toughest guys on the team was scared of this Tiffani woman? Really? “So, what you’re saying is that you’re afraid of her?”
She hadn’t meant for it to come out quite that way, but she couldn’t take it back either. She’d been known for her coarse approach, something she’d inherited from Eddie. She wondered if that was one of the reasons she had a hard time meeting people and making new friends. All through school Cate was the social butterfly and Allie the stinging bee, yet somehow, their friendship worked.
Cavallo shifted his feet a few times, searching her face for something. “Afraid of her? No. But I don’t have the desire to start any crap. I have to walk a fine line. Her husband is captain of the team. You do know that, right?”
His last sentence was meant to bite and she knew it. “All season long you want to go to a million bullshit charity events that raise no money?” Allie had no idea where the bravado came from, but she loved it.
He stared at her some more and she could see how opponents could be frightened off by him. Allie wasn’t the least bit scared. What was he going to do? Body check her into the refreshment table?
“What’s your plan? If you don’t have a plan, you’re on your own. I hear a lot of bluster, but not much substance.”
Her jaw dropped but she quickly closed it. “Excuse me?”
“Look, I’m not trying to offend you, but I don’t think you have any idea what goes on around here. You’re a little out of your element. And I can’t get mixed up in whatever scheme you’re hatching.”
“Scheme?”
“If your goal is to piss off Tiffani, I’m not interested. The fact you haven’t even spoken to her yet says it all.”
Allie blinked a few times. “What are you talking about?”
“Tiffani is . . .” he paused, searching for the right words. “She is untouchable, and I get the impression you want to take her on just because you can. I’m not getting involved. I have a career to worry about. Here’s a piece of advice: no one wants a troublemaker around.”
She’d never wanted to punch a man before, but she was ready to sock Will Cavallo.
“I’m sorry, you must have misunderstood what I don’t think I said. Or you’ve had one too many pucks to the head. I don’t know Tiffani Baker and I really don’t care about Tiffani Baker. What I do care about is the Falcon Foundation, and I care even more about making money so that the foundation can donate it to charities. If that makes me a troublemaker, shit disturber, the evil queen or whatever other colorful adjective you can think of, well, sign me up. But if you’re afraid of her, you can sit on the sidelines and I’ll do this all by myself, tough guy.”
She finished her speech in a huff and then it dawned on her. She’d just taken on Will Cavallo, a man she needed as an ally. She’d royally screwed up.
His jaw tensed and his stare hardened. “What’s your background?”
“What?”
“Your background? Where’d you go to school? What jobs have you had? Are you hard of hearing, troublemaker?”
She noted the hint of a smirk on his face. “I have an MBA from Yale. Marketing is my specialty. And this isn’t my first job with the Falcons. I was here long before you were.”
“I see. You have a fancy Ivy League education. That makes you smarter than the rest of us. And yet you find yourself working on the Falcon Foundation? For your uncle. Couldn’t get a job anywhere else?”
“Okay, I’m done with you. You’re hopeless. You can go on being Tiffani’s lapdog. I’ll figure out a way to do this myself.”
She turned to walk away.
“Wait,” he said.
She stopped and slowly turned back around. He had a sheepish smile on his face that was also smug. “For real, what’s your plan?”
She had him hooked, now she needed to reel him in. “I’d be happy to discuss that plan with you one on one. Name a time and place and I’ll be there.”
She had no plan, but she wasn’t about to let him know that.
“We can meet for lunch. There’s a great sandwich place downtown called Sigmund’s. How’s tomorrow around one?”
She panicked a bit. Tomorrow was fast, especially for someone who’d just pretended to have a plan.
“Sounds perfect. I should probably get your number since the Falcons like to keep that top secret.”
“With the last name Stewart, I doubt you’ll have problems getting anything you want.”
What does that mean? she wondered. “Eddie doesn’t play favorites.”
His lips turned up into a partial smile and Allie struggled to keep herself in check. She’d made Will Cavallo smile . . . sort of.
He gave her his number and she programmed it into her phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yes, Allie Stewart, Ms. Troublemaker. I’m looking forward to it.”