Chapter 18 - Victoria

Victoria

D raft week flew by. All the pre-parties were done and dusted. And now we were already on day two. Day one had been a huge success. The Legends drafted a linebacker to help shore up the defense. He’s set to arrive any minute.

I scanned through the bio I’d crafted about our newest addition.

Kevin Anderson….ran the 40-yard dash in 4.32 seconds….started games as linebacker, running back and safety for Montana State….made all-conference as an inside linebacker and an outside linebacker in separate seasons…recorded 156 tackles this past season, six sacks, and four interceptions….unanimous Defensive Player of the Year.

Glen and I went over the social media plan. Pictures of Kevin holding up his jersey with Ethan Caldwell and Coach Montgomery on the field. Record a few quick videos saying hey to the fans and telling them how excited he was to get to work for the team.

Glen actually sat with the social media team this week and had a whole week’s worth of posts for our newest first round pick all planned out.

“Have I told you lately you’re a lifesaver?” I asked.

“Yep. Don’t let it stop you from piling it on though,” he laughed.

“Big day,” Hannah sashayed into the press room. “I love when the draft picks come to the stadium for the first time. They always look so awestruck.”

“Until Coach gets ahold of them,” Glen said.

“Oh, he’s a teddy bear,” Hannah joked. “Actually, Glen, would you mind taking the lead on this visit? I need to borrow Victoria.”

“Take all the time you need, ladies. I got this.” He gathered the jersey and some other items before heading out of the room.

Hannah turned to me. “Grab your laptop and meet me in my office?”

I nodded, heading down the hall. My mind cycled through everything I had to finish before the second round started tonight. I loved how this week had been so busy with events leading up to the draft. There wasn’t any time for me to dwell on anything else. Or any one else for that matter. Even though he kept liking all my photos.

This won’t come as a surprise to anyone but I liked getting his attention. I posted so much from all the events, I was a little surprised he didn’t comment or text me about them. I know for a fact Hannah sent Bennet several photos as well. I wondered what was going on in his head.

I did a little stalking on his account as well. Is it stalking if I follow him? Nah.

Apparently he returned to regular training sessions last week, so I, along with his two million followers, were treated to various photos and videos of him participating in drills.

And yes, I liked all of them.

When I got to Hannah’s office we started to plot out the media schedule for the next month. We also coordinated with our community relations department on several upcoming events .

“Who do you have in mind to handle the media coaching for the rookies?” Hannah looked up from her computer.

“Sophie. She was great with the rookie class last year.”

“Agreed. How about Tre?”

I snorted. “He doesn’t need media coaching. That guy is as well-rehearsed as anyone.”

“True but you know how Ethan and Coach like the players to stay on message. Tre wanders at times.”

“The fans like it.” I shrugged. “Especially now with social media giving them all a space to let their personalities out. Tre knows what he has to do at the podium. And if he drops a little personality in here and there, it won’t hurt.”

“That one is on you then,” she chuckled.

“How many players are going to the Met Gala this year?” I asked, scrolling through an Excel file.

“Noah, obviously. Jax and Dante will be there as well.”

“Those three,” I snickered. “Is Tre going?”

“Yes, sorry, he’ll be there too.”

“That’s a splashy group.”

Hannah laughed. “Yeah. The paparazzi will love it. And those guys know how to play up to the crowd.” She closed her laptop. “Alright, we’re done here. What time are you staying until?”

“Probably nine. Derek and Sophie will be here late tonight, and they’ll be here all weekend.”

“Oh,” Hannah perked up. “Do you have plans tomorrow night?”

“I’m dog-sitting for Killian and Max.”

“Think the dog can handle being alone for a couple hours?” she teased.

“Depends. What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” she sounded nervous, “Bennet is flying over tomorrow.”

“Oh?” My eyes widened. “That’s exciting for you. How long will he be here? ”

“All week.” She flicked her wrist in a dismissive manner. “Anyway, we’re going out for drinks and I want you to come with us.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “It’ll be fun.”

“On what planet do you think asking someone to be the third wheel on their date is fun?”

“It’s not a date, it’s drinks.” She lifted her hands to stop me from interrupting. “He asked me to invite you specifically.”

I broke out into a cold sweat. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I’m not an asshole, Victoria. Xavier won’t be there. Bennet is flying out after their game. Apparently it’s Xavier’s first match back since being suspended. Bennet told me what happened.” Her eyes narrowed. “And it wasn’t his first time getting carded for a fight. He’s got a temper. Did you know?”

“No, not really. I mean, he mentioned he got into fights when he was a teenager but never said anything more.”

“Bennet mentioned the same thing,” she said softly before adding, “You do know Xavier and the rest of the team will be here for a game against the Knights next week though, right?”

“What?” My heart pounded.

“The international series. You don’t remember the huge announcement in January?” She gave me an incredulous look. “Five big English clubs are going to five different American cities next week. Since the Knights use our stadium, we have Royal City. The others are going to Los Angeles, Dallas, Orlando, and Chicago.” She shook her head. “You wrote the press release. Remember?”

My mouth sort of did the thing where it wants to say words but just made gaping gestures like a damn fish gasping for air. After a second, I composed myself.

“I write so many press releases, Hannah. I don’t remember all of them. And if it was in January, we were in the middle of the playoffs and…I don’t think a soccer game was too high on my radar.”

The post-season, while routine in these parts, is always chaotic. Relatives who want tickets, national press coverage, interviews, behind-the-scenes exclusives. I probably did write the press release. But to be fair, I wouldn’t have known who or what Royal City Athletic was at the time.

That’s not entirely true.

As a media relations professional in the sports world, I’d have an idea of who they were. I just wouldn’t have paid much attention.

Because I wasn’t banging the star goalkeeper at the time.

“Royals and Knights,” I muttered. “Of course.”

“See? You do remember,” Hannah exclaimed. “You said it sounded like The Canterbury Tales or something. Royals, Knights, and Legends.”

“I hope I didn’t write that in the release.”

Hannah’s laugh echoed through her office. “No, you did not.” She grinned. “I have a call in five minutes. Thanks for hashing out the schedules with me.”

“Anytime.” I turned and walked toward the door.

“Victoria?”

I glanced behind me. “Yeah?”

“Please come out with us tomorrow.”

“I’ll think about it,” I promised, walking toward my office across the hall.

I sat heavily in my chair and tried like hell to focus on everything I had to finish before the draft started tonight. Instead, I scrolled through the shared files for stadium events. Yep. There it was. The announcement about five English soccer clubs coming to the U.S., including Royal City Athletic.

Even though I handled all the media requests for the Legends, I wasn’t the main contact for this game. The stadium has a small media team for special events.

It struck me as odd that neither Bennet nor Xavier mentioned they’d be here. Then again, I saw Bennet a grand total of one and a half times and spent all my other time climbing Xavier like a tree.

“Good job,” I mumbled.

My desk phone rang, mercifully relieving me of this thought process.

“Victoria Chase,” I answered.

“Ms. Chase, hello,” an unfamiliar male voice greeted me. “My name is Justin Kirby. I’m a reporter with the London Independent News. Hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.”

“Not at all. What can I do for you?”

“As you know, Royal City is flying out to New York next week and I was wondering if we could set up a joint interview with some players from the Knights.”

“Mr. Kirby is it?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t handle those requests for the Knights but I’d be more than happy to put you in touch with their media handler for the game. Do you have a pen handy?”

“Apologies. I saw your name as a contact on the stadium website.”

“No worries,” I said. “It happens more often than not. You’ll want to talk to Kaylee Meade. Here’s her number.”

I recited the phone number to him, exchanged pleasantries and ended the call.

“Hey. You busy?” a voice asked from the doorway.

I glanced over. “Oh, hi Tre. Um, a little. What’s up?”

He tucked his hands in his pockets and sauntered into my office. Dressed in jeans and a graphic t-shirt, he looked good. Better than I remembered when I saw him in Denver. Leaner, more muscular. Images of the night we spent together flashed through my mind.

Noooo. Girl, what is wrong with you?

I shook free from the memory and closed the file I’d pulled up on my computer. While it wasn’t too unusual for a player to be in the stadium offices during the off-season, I was still surprised to see him here.

“I poked my head into Hannah’s before coming over,” he said. “She mentioned asking you about getting up to speed with media coaching.” He shrugged. “I have the team’s media guidebook. Don’t really think I need more.”

“You’ve been in the league for what, seven years? I think you know what you’re doing.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, but I know how particular coach can be about what we say.”

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. “You have all the main talking points. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Seriously. You’re professional, poised, articulate, confident. And you have a way with keeping the reporters engaged and entertained. In my opinion, there’s nothing more you need to do.”

A dazzling smile curved his mouth. “Well, with that endorsement, I guess I’m all set. Thanks, Victoria.”

“Anytime. You know you can stop by if you ever have any questions.”

“Yes ma’am.” Just as Tre was about to exit my office, he paused and turned. “I know it’s last minute but Noah and Tracey are having a little get together at their place tonight to watch the draft and just chill. Would you like to go?”

“I can’t,” I replied. “Thank you though.”

Tre looked me over in a subtle way that would have seemed innocuous if not for our history. His casual but flirty lean into the door jamb also gave away his intent. “Busy lady,” he grinned. “Another time?”

Boundaries. NOW.

“It’s best if we keep everything professional.”

“I’ve heard that before.” He licked his lips and walked away.

Uneasiness snaked through my body. Yes, I’m a huge flirt. Yes, I have a tendency to get down and dirty with hot athletes on occasion. No, I do not want that to continue. Not after what happened in England.

I stood in the draft room observing the start of round two. It wasn’t as glamorous as it might sound. It was just a big conference room with phones and computers scattered on the table. Coach Montgomery was on a call. The director of player personnel stood by the giant dry erase board, studying all the moves the team has made so far. Several big television screens were mounted on the walls so everyone could see what was happening at the draft venue.

By the time nine o’clock rolled around I was ready to call it a day. Killian already texted me half a dozen times to remind me he and Max were at my condo with Winston Furchill.

His name always made me chuckle. Their dog was the cutest thing ever and I loved watching him when they’d go away or have one of their weekend adventures at the Guild.

“Victoria,” Glen yelled from down the hall. “Pizza in the press room.”

I waved, signaling I’d be there in a minute. Might as well grab a slice or three. I have a nice bottle of Sauvignon Blanc waiting for me at home to complete the ultimate low-key, basic single girl dinner. I went into my office to grab my things.

When I re-emerged Glen was moving fast up the hallway carrying a pizza box. He stopped, breathless and laughing. “Take the box, Victoria. I nearly lost an arm saving some slices for you. Those people are animals.”

I took the box and smiled. “Thanks, Glen. You’re a lifesaver, again.”

“I got you, V. Enjoy the weekend.”

I sent Killian a quick text as I made my way down to the parking lot. The stadium was about twenty minutes outside of Manhattan. There’s always traffic in the city so it would probably take me more like forty minutes to get home. Didn’t bother me too much. I turned up the radio and pulled out of the parking lot, catching glimpses of the immense steel and glass stadium as it became smaller and smaller in my rear view mirror.

One week from tomorrow we’ll be hosting Royal City Athletic and the NYC Knights. And then the following Monday was the Met Gala. I blew out a sigh.

I’ll worry about next week when it gets here.

Navigating the streets of New York calmed me for some reason. Everything moved in its structured, routine way surrounded by beautiful chaos. I do love this city.

The noise.

The rush.

The rich, the poor, the curious, the jaded, the humble, and the arrogant all co-existing on street corner after street corner.

The joyful echo of music filling dirty subway stations.

The pockets of calm in the parks.

I shook my head. That sounded more like something Charlotte would dream up. A warmth spread through my chest as I turned into my parking garage.

“Yeah, I know you’re here,” I whispered, putting my hand on my heart. “Thanks, Charlie.”

The night guard waved from the security desk when I passed through the lobby. “Evening, Ms. Chase.”

“Hi, Mr. Baxter. How’s the game?”

He shook his head in disgust. “They need to find someone who can shoot threes. This is embarrassing.”

I laughed and got into the elevator. When I arrived at my door I heard Winston barking.

“Somebody is excited to see me,” I exclaimed, walking into the foyer. Winston ran over and nearly tripped me.

“Finally,” Killian said with a huff .

“Seriously?” I arched an eyebrow.

“He’s antsy,” Max explained.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” I rolled my eyes and put my pizza box on the counter.

Killian hugged me from behind. “Sorry, baby girl. You know I love you.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Am I still cool enough to be your best friend?”

“Shut up,” I laughed and turned to face him. “So what’s happening at the Guild this weekend?”

“The usual. But that’s not what we’re doing all weekend. We’ll just go there tonight and then we’re leaving obnoxiously early in the morning to drive up to Lake George.”

“Oh?” I grabbed a slice of pizza and a napkin. “What’s going on in the Adirondacks?”

“Peace and quiet,” Max said, placing his hands in a meditative position. “I need to escape this zoo before the influencer’s birthday party and the Met Gala. Your boy needs to be at one hundred.”

Killian let out an exaggerated sigh. “You poor thing,” he teased. “Will the six figure payment make it all better?”

“Alright you two,” I said through a mouthful of pizza. “Get out before I change my mind about watching Winston.”

“Pfft. You’d never,” Killian scoffed.

“Out.” I pointed to the door.

“See you Sunday. We love you,” they said in unison as they left.

I leaned against the counter and looked down at Winston. He tilted his head and whined.

“I know. You’ll get some peace and quiet, too.”

He wagged his tail while trotting off toward the couch. I planned to trot there myself after finishing this pizza and changing into something more comfortable. I moved around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring some wine. It went down really, really nice with the pizza .

And without it.

After a few glasses, all the hectic energy from the week melted away. While I do love the draft, it’s also a welcome reprieve to decompress from the pandemonium.

Of course it also meant my mind relaxed and started to wander.

And I let it. Not that I had any power to stop it if I wanted.

The images came fast and furious. Seeing Xavier for the first time when he pulled off the road. Then again at Black Rose. How his eyes consumed me every second we were together. The dark expression on his face. The dangerous edge to his voice when he called me dirty princess.

I’ve replayed every interaction we had over and over since I left. Including the way I left him. Guilt rippled through me. I had enough guilt living inside me to last ten lifetimes. And yet, even with those feelings, he flipped a switch in me.

It’s uncomfortable to lose myself in fantasies of being with him. Really being with him, not just a casual fuck here and there. But I liked imagining us as more than a fling.

An uncomfortable heat lingered on my skin.

Okay, not uncomfortable. Insistent.

The kind of heat only Xavier could fuel and tame…and fuel again. I wandered into my bedroom and took off my work clothes.

A tiny smile touched my lips at the memory of Xavier giving me his phone number. Just in case I wanted to send him naughty photos. I stood in front of my floor mirror, running my nails along my stomach.

The familiar urge for spontaneity and bad decisions pulled at me. Flashes of what we did at his townhouse consumed me. The way he commanded me to take off all my clothes except for my heels. The carnal look on his face when he sat in the chair and stroked himself. The first flick of his tongue on my body. The possessive way he staked his claim on me.

Hot desire crawled and scratched at my skin .

He’d want to know I’ve been thinking about him.

He’d want to know what I did while these indecent thoughts ravaged me.

With a devilish grin, I set up my ring light tripod and attached my phone. I placed it next to the bed and stripped out of my bra and panties. Nervousness and excitement flooded me when I set the camera timer, climbed on the bed and kneeled. I kept my body in profile, showing my left side. My hair draped over my right shoulder. I lifted my left shoulder, looked over it and flashed the camera a demure smile.

For a brief second, I considered deleting it. I mean, who am I to be sending him an unsolicited naked photo? I looked good in it though. He’d be able to see just enough.

And I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to see how taut my nipples were and how my lips parted just enough to signal what I wanted between them.

I wanted him to see just how much the thought of him turned me on.

A growing ache twisted and knotted at my core. I’d use one of my toys soon enough but it paled in comparison to how Xavier could satisfy me.

I sent the photo with the message Want to know what I’m thinking about ?