Page 70 of Fierce Storm
“You’re right. I’m sure I’ll come up with someone else. In fact, I’ll bet there’s someone right under our noses, if only we could find him.”
“If only.”Dammit.What is she alluding to?
“Anyway, that’s for another time. For now, ask Mr. Smoldering Eyes what time he gets off work. You know, so he can get you off.”
Hayley’s eyes sparkle as she laughs at her own joke, and I can’t stop the snort that flies out of me. “I’ll think about it.”
I’ve just got to stop thinking about someone else.
Chapter Twenty
SALVATORE
“Thanks, Bronte. I appreciate you keeping me up to date.” Thank God for friends in high places. If it weren’t for Bronte and her publishing contacts, I’d be completely out of the loop on Gregory’s damn book. I should also be thankful that she’s still friendly with me since she was Camilla’s friend first.
“Anytime, Sal. I’ll be in San Francisco next month; we should meet for a drink. It could be a good time to talk about your own memoir.”
“Mine?” I chuckle under my breath. “No one wants to read that story. I’m boring as hell.”
“A billionaire workaholic who ran his marriage into the ground before moving halfway across the country to buy a football franchise, while continuing to run his business? Not to mention your adventures assisting in the arrest of two crooked businessmen, saving your daughter from public humiliation.”
“Wow. Something tells me you’ve thought about this. Also…you know way too much about me.”
“You know Camilla and I will always be close.”
“I do. I just didn’t realize she was still talking about me.”
“I love her, but she’ll talk about anyone for attention.”
Anyone?My hackles rise and a tightness works its way into my chest. “Even the kids?”
“No,” Bronte’s quick to reassure me. “I promise. She doesn’t talk about the kids. Not in a gossipy way.”
“Good.”
“Anyway, moving on. I have contacts. I could find you a ghostwriter.”
I chuckle again, my brows furrowing. “Thank you. If I ever decide to go down that path, I’ll keep you in mind.”
“Please do.”
“Talk soon.”
“Definitely.”
I hang up and immediately pour myself a whiskey, the idea of sharing my life with the world eliciting a dull pang in my stomach. Gregory’s tell-all is sharing enough; I don’t need any more out there, even if he doesn’t mention my name. He’s attacking my team and that’s like a personal attack on me.
Thank God for the delay in the release. It turns out, the Storm football team wasn’t the only team he mentioned in his book, and he’s currently being sued for defamation over one statement he made about another franchise’s general manager stealing money from his players to support his luxurious life. Of course, his claims come with no reasonable proof.
What the hell kind of publishing company lets shit like that through?
I probably owe them a drink, because without that, we’d be thrust back into the spotlight again at the start of a new season. Here’s hoping the case goes to trial and takes years to be resolved, and maybe they’ll scrap the book altogether.
After sitting down at the desk in my home office, I roll the bottom edge of my glass on the dark wood grain finish, staring at the liquid as it swishes close to the edge.
I needed this news, and while it could still go either way, it feels like a temporary victory. Meaning, it’s back to normal programming for me. And that means budgets.
I’ve been spending more time in this office over the past few months, working on D’Angelo Construction during the Storm’s offseason. But that’s all about to change now that we’re back in the swing of things.
