Page 13 of Offsides

Cowboy nodded. “I agree. There is nothing wrong with Isaac Peters, per se. He could do the job—and I think he could do it well. But Keaton I think has a better understanding of everything we’re trying to accomplish with this team. He really did his research, and from my conversations with him, he seems to understand our philosophy and isn’t going to try and interfere with what Gunnar and I already have in place. He’s going to work with us.”

He sat back in his chair, glad to know that everyone seemed to be on the same page. To him, Keaton was the obvious choice. And not just because he was a former teammate. The guy brought to the table some good ideas on how to take what they were already building to the next level. He also had good connections when it came to scouting, as well as sponsors, and was well respected in the league. All very important things when choosing the person who was going to run the business side of a professional sports team.

He was also saying a silent thank you that the meeting had moved right to business and skipped over how last night had gone. Please don’t make me have to fess up…

“That sounds settled to me then,” Dalton replied with a shrug.

“Then we can add it to the agenda for the board to vote on next week. Once it’s approved, we can hold a press conference. Think we could do it the same day as the Unified signing? The press is already coming for the ceremony, so maybe we make a day of it? Announce Keaton in the morning, have some sort of lunch Q and A session and then all the Unified stuff in the afternoon?”

"Makes for a busy day, but since we leave the next day for Montreal, I can schedule a lighter training or maybe just a conditioning session. That way the players are around.”

“Perfect!” Felicity exclaimed. She turned to look at Cowboy, a bright, hopeful look in her eye. He knew what was coming next.

“Any chance Beau will be here by then?” she asked, giving him a smile that told him she really wanted to hear the word “yes.”

And there it was. The million-dollar question. Only with Felicity, the question was warranted. It was actually her business to know.

“Sorry, not quite,” he told her. “He won’t get here until after Montreal. Hamburg’s last game is this weekend, but they have some end of season stuff they want him there for and then time to pack up and get here. But don’t worry, he’ll be here in time for the Fremont Cup.”

“And we’re gonna need him,” Gunnar muttered.

“Excellent! Did you tell all this to Theo last night?”

Fuck…so much for getting out of talking about it…

“Nope.”

He didn’t choose to elaborate past that one word. Beyond his personal embarrassment—since he’d never treated a woman that way—was the knowledge that he was unprofessional. Something he didn’t want to admit to, especially to his bosses. He would prefer to forget about the whole thing and simply go back to ignoring all her emails and texts.

“Because why?” Felicity asked.

“Because it’s not any of her business. And I won’t give her a date so she can stalk his flight and be waiting for him at the airport to bombard him with questions. Beau has enough going on right now; he doesn’t need that kind of welcome.”

There, that was a perfectly legit answer. Drama had followed around his former teammate for years, and the last few months had been no exception. If anything, the media whirlwind and rumor mill was at an all-time high. Cowboy knew what that was like—to have the media hounding you every single second until you couldn’t even think straight. It was part of why he was so strict about team media policies and media access to the players. It was part of his job to protect them from those vultures and not let them ever have to experience what he did.

“How’d last night go anyway?” Gunnar asked.

Discomfort rose in Cowboy, making him shift in his chair awkwardly. Theo’s beautiful features were still front and center in his mind—from her pretty pink lips to that long brown hair that had fallen over her shoulders. Unfortunately, the look on her face as he walked away was burned in his mind as well, and it hurt to think about.

“Fine.”

“Fine? Just fine?”

“Yeah, just fine,” he answered. He really did not want to talk about this.

“Why ‘just fine’?” Dalton asked, his interest obviously piqued.

“She was her normal, uptight self. I’d like to say it started out okay, but it didn’t. When we ordered, she ordered without a bun, and you know what that gets you. And instead of laughing, she got all pissy.”

“You didn’t…” Dalton said, not trying to hide his amusement.

“Britt Callahan! You did not throw rolls at her!” Felicity said, the pitch of her voice higher than normal.

Not personally…

“She was your guest! She paid good money to spend the evening with you.”

“No, she paid good money so she could try to weasel her way into exclusive access to the Rising for the Fremont Cup.”