The Game Changer(34)

“Us?” He raised his eyebrows, taunting me.

“Fine. I’ll hire my own driver,” I shot back.

Jack lunged, pinning me beneath him as he planted a kiss on my nose. “Like hell you will. He’ll be our driver. If I like him, that is.”

“Fine.”

“Fine? You’re not gonna give me some sort of smartass comment, like ‘What if I like him and you don’t?’ Just, fine?”

“Sorry. I’m too tired to pretend argue.” I yawned, unable to hide my fatigue any longer.

“Bed?” he asked, his eyebrows wiggling.

“Yes. But for sleeping.”

“OK, Kitten. For sleeping.”




Monday afternoon, the phone at my desk rang incessantly, begging me to pick it up. The words Front Lobby displayed across the small screen and I reached to grab it before it stopped.

“This is Cassie”

“Hi, Cassie. Your driver is here.”

My what?

Oh, right. Sal’s cousin.

“OK, thank you. Can you tell him I’ll be right down?”

“Of course. See you soon.”

I hung up the phone without saying good-bye and shoved into my purse the camera Jack had bought me after my original one was stolen the night I was mugged at Fullton State. I rushed to file my last-minute photos into their corresponding online folders before speed walking to the elevator.

“Have fun tonight, Cassie.” Joey’s broad Boston accent filled the air, and I turned quickly toward him.

An uncomfortable blush crept over my cheeks. “Thanks, Joey,” I said with a tight smile. “See you tomorrow.” I pressed the elevator button, wishing it would hurry up and retrieve me. Working with Joey now that Jack was back in my life wasn’t necessarily the most relaxed of situations. I should have added a rule number five to my list after that night: Never date someone you work with. Because when it ends badly, it’s awkward for everyone. And there’s no escape.

The elevator dinged, and I stepped inside the crowded space. Squeezing my way in, I sandwiched myself between two men who thankfully didn’t smell terrible. Each time the elevator stopped and the doors opened, the people waiting on the other side realized it was too crowded for them to enter. They would step away as I offered a sympathetic smile, the doors closing. This happened repeatedly for twenty floors until we reached the lobby.

Finally free from playing sardine, I bolted into the lobby, looking for a driver who resembled Sal, complete with overstuffed belly and kind eyes. I scanned the room before stopping on a tall, striking man dressed in a black suit and tie. A pair of black sunglasses rested on top of his spiky dark hair, and even through his suit, I could make out the muscular body lurking underneath.

Good Lord, that is one good-looking man.

The security guard caught the man’s attention and then pointed at me as a wide grin spread across his face. The tall drink of water looked in my direction and asked, “Miss Andrews?” I stepped closer to him, my insides trembling.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Please, call me Cassie.” I smiled, trying my best not to look him up and down.

“I’m Matteo. Mr. Carter sent me to bring you to the game. Are you ready?”

“Yep,” I squeaked out when I noticed the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under his collar.

Jack sent a model to pick me up. A tattooed, freaking hot-as-fuck model.

Matteo opened the rear passenger door, and I settled inside. Suddenly feeling like an entitled snob, I fought the urge to climb over the seat and sit up front with my new driver. Unless I was in a taxicab, sitting alone in the backseat while someone else drove always struck me as odd. I reached for my phone, checking my personal e-mails as the car lurched forward. I glanced up briefly during the quiet drive to find Matteo’s blue eyes watching me in the rearview mirror. I darted my gaze from his and returned to my phone, fiddling with it to look busy.

Putting my phone down, I looked outside the window as the city flew by. I constantly found myself in awe of this place, with its massive buildings and old architecture. It was the ideal setting for the photographer in me.

“So, you’re Sal’s cousin, huh?” I asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us.

“Yeah. You see the resemblance?” He angled his head toward the backseat for a moment, and I caught sight of the smile spread across his tanned skin.

I smiled in return, my lips firmly pressed together as I imagined Sal’s oversized belly and receding hairline. “Definitely. You could pass for twins.”

He laughed out loud.

“How’d you like Jack?” I asked, attempting to bring my boyfriend into the conversation.

Boyfriend.