The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

I exhaled. “Hi, Tiffany. How are you?”

“Unhappy. Why isn’t the Foreman contract signed?”

As if her unending state of miserableness would be cured if one contract were signed…

“I asked the PR department to do a little digging. One of the companies Foreman owns makes children’s clothing, and I remembered reading an article a few months ago about some questionable child labor they might’ve been using in Myanmar.”

“All of our vendors are vetted before we do business with them.”

“Okay, but we don’t do an annual update on all our business partners. I looked back, and we’ve been doing business with Foreman for ten years. Their business could have changed a lot since then.”

“They’re an upstanding company.”

“I’m sure you’re right. But it couldn’t hurt to run another check. I’m sure PR will get back to me with their report soon. I figured it’s better to be safe than sorry. We wouldn’t want anything to tarnish the Bruins name.”

A wicked smile spread across Tiffany’s face. “Yes, we wouldn’t want anyone else to tarnish the team name, not when the lovely new owner is doing such a great job of it on her own.”

My eyes narrowed. “How am I hurting the team’s name?”

“Getting passed around by the players more than the ball in a game doesn’t exactly make us look good.”

“Passed around? What are you talking about?”

“I saw the Post.”

I sighed. Of course that’s what this was about. “Do you have anything else you need to discuss with me?”

Her answer was to turn around. But she stopped in the doorway. “He’ll be done with you by the time we get to playoffs, if it even lasts that long. Just ask Salma in accounting.”

And here I’d thought I’d been standing my ground so nicely in today’s square off with my sister. But that last comment knocked me for a loop. Salma in accounting? With the big boobs and beautiful, shiny hair? Luckily, my sister was long gone so she didn’t see she’d landed a direct hit. Though I suspected she knew it.

Five minutes later, I still hadn’t really recovered, but I knew Josh would be knocking at my door shortly to remind me it was time to go to yet another meeting. So I forced myself back to work and called up the agenda on my computer. A few lines in, there was a knock at my door. I looked up to find Christian.

He took one look at the two vases of flowers on my desk and frowned. “You have a minute?”

I nodded. “Only that. I have a meeting soon.”

Christian shut the door behind him and walked to my desk. He gestured to the flowers. “The florist accidentally sent two?”

I shook my head. “One is from Julian.”

It looked like Christian was going to say something, but then he closed his mouth and the muscle flex in his jaw spoke for him. I’d never been a jealous woman, but suddenly I knew what he was feeling. Though I wasn’t about to keep quiet like him.

I tossed my pen on the desk. “Did you sleep with Salma in accounting?”

He squinted at me. “Where did you hear that?”

“Does it matter?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Only because I’m curious to know who’s feeding you bullshit information.”

“So you didn’t sleep with her?”

“We met at the team holiday party two years ago. I had a couple of drinks, which I don’t usually do. We talked for a while, and then she caught me off guard when she asked me out. I said yes. The next morning I realized that was dumb, so I planned to talk to her and tell her I wasn’t going to go out with her. But I was flying to my brother’s for Christmas. By the time I got back, she’d already told half the corporate office we were dating. After I let her know I wasn’t going to go out with her, she told everyone I’d dumped her since I’d gotten my fill. I left it alone. Figured I’d embarrassed her by changing my mind, and there was no reason to get into a pissing contest to set the record straight.”

“Oh…”

“Are you going to tell me who’s trying to sabotage our relationship before it even starts?”

I frowned. “Tiffany. She told me I was going to be just another woman you blew through.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure if you saw the Post this morning. But they ran one of the pictures the paparazzo took last night with a suggestive headline.”

Christian’s stance softened. He unfolded his arms and tucked his hands into his sweatpants pockets with a shrug. “I heard about it. You do know your sister is just trying to get in your head. She gets her kicks upsetting you.”

I sighed. “I know.”

Christian caught my eyes. “So we’re good? You believe me about Salma?”

“Of course. Unlike my sister, you’ve never given me a reason to doubt you’d tell me the truth.”

“Good.” He smiled halfheartedly. “Is it my turn to be jealous now?” Christian pointed his eyes to the roses he hadn’t sent. “Did he ask you out again?”

“He wrote that he had a good time and hopes to do it again soon, just the two of us.” I gestured to the card. “You’re welcome to read it yourself.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need to.” Christian looked down for a moment. “Do you want to go out with him again?”