Sleet Sugar by S.J. Tilly
CHAPTER SEVEN
IZZY
Most people dread Monday mornings. Usually I fall into that category. Not because I don’t like my job, I just don’t like getting up early. Today, however, I’m thrilled to start my work week.
I spent the entire weekend daydreaming about Zach. I re-lived every moment of our time together, some parts more than others, and basically obsessed over him to an unhealthy level. He was just, so, ugh. Everything! He was perfect in his imperfectness. But he’s so unique that I know I can’t go around trying to find myself a replacement Zach. I need to look for someone totally different from him. That way I won’t compare them. And I’m already dreading whatever loser I’ll pick to be my anti-Zach because - try as I might - I know he won’t live up to my expectations. But it has to be done.
I told myself it was okay to pine over him all weekend. But the weekend is over, he’s probably gone, and no one has to know that I touched myself to the mental image of Zach’s face between my thighs. That little tidbit is just for me.
Figuring I’ll get a jump on the day, I’m at the office early. I should really think of a better name for it, since it’s not really my office. My dad has always given me full access to the practice facilities and arenas, so I can come visit him anytime. So, when I started meeting with the players in the role of financial advisor, it just made sense to do it here at the practice facility. There are always extra offices and conference rooms to use. And since it’s located downtown St. Paul, it’s close to the main arena, and close to my house.
Even before I started down this career path, I knew I wanted to live close to all the Sleet action. I have a house in a suburb just outside the city, only a few blocks away from my dad’s house. I didn’t plan to live so close to him. But I love the neighborhood and it’s sometimes handy to have him nearby.
Seeing that the door to my dad’s office is open, I head in that direction. The new season starts in just a couple weeks, so it’s been a little chaotic recently. Of course, when the season is going things are busy, but the last weeks leading up to the pre-season games are always extra crazy. There are last minute player trades, new trainers, media events… So I’m not surprised to see that Dad is in early, too.
My meeting this morning is with a new client, so I have my latte in my left hand, my giant purse bag slung over my right shoulder, and my right hand clutching a stack of folders. I know I could put them in my bag, but then they might get mixed up with my other folders, and I’ve carefully arranged everything in a specific order.
I’m still thinking through my paperwork, making sure I didn’t forget anything, when Dad calls out to me. I’m a few steps from his doorway, but the angle to his desk lets him spot me.
“Isabelle, perfect timing!”
I have to smile. Dad is always so happy to see me.
“Good morning, Daddy,” I say, as I step into his office.
He has a few chairs facing his desk, leaving their backs to the door, and I don’t even realize that one is occupied until my dad motions towards the person sitting there.
“We’re about to head out to a media conference, but I wanted to be the first to introduce you to the Sleet’s newest player - Zachary Hunt. Zachary, meet my daughter, Isabelle Thorpe.”
My gaze moves to Zachary as he stands. I’m momentarily distracted by his big muscular butt in those perfectly tailored black dress pants. When he rotates towards me, and I’m suddenly staring at his junk, I snap my gaze up to greet him. And my eyes lock on to beautiful, and familiar, hazel eyes.
It takes my brain a full heartbeat to compute what I’m seeing. When it does, not only does my smile fade, but my dumbass mind flips the switch over to crazy person mode. I let out a small scream and fling my handful of folders across the room.
Zachary Hunt is Zach. My Zach. My face-between-my-thighs Zach.
Oh, this is bad.
