Bedding the Bad Boy (Bad Boys of Football Book 1) Read online

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t today my first day?” I asked the irate coach.

  Bad question.

  “You are the fucking PR manager. Your job started the moment you signed that six figure contract, sweetheart. Now, fix it,” Cole Magnus, the team manager, reminded me.

  I glared back at his pudgy face and made it clear I was no pushover, despite what my ex might have thought. “Number one, I was not offered six figures. You must have me confused with the other black women you employ in your fine organization. Oh, that’s right; other than the token black cheerleader, there aren’t any black females working for you, are there?”

  That shut him up for a moment.

  “You work for me. If you intend to continue working for me, you’ll handle this. Get it out of the papers. Smooth things over with the district attorney before he makes it a point to focus his attention on our players. All of our players. If you can’t handle that, find yourself another job. I hear strippers make good money downtown.” Cole sneered at me.

  I wanted to slap him. Smack the jackass right out of him, but that would have ruined my nails. I paid too much money to have them perfected for my first day at work. He wasn’t going to make me ruin them now. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry,” I said, without having the foggiest notion how I was going to pull that off.

  “You better.” Cole walked away, muttering swear words under his breath.

  “Welcome to the team,” the receptionist greeted me with a sinister smirk splashed across her face.

  I had no words… Well, no words that wouldn’t get me thrown out of there.

  I spent the next hour pacing the floors in my office – a small room the size of my bedroom closet. Basically, it was a desk and a chair. That’s it. No window. Not one single window.

  According to all the media outlets, fans were in an uproar over last night’s debacle. Longtime fans sided with Beck. Gave him the benefit of the doubt. The local D.A. wanted him prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Hordes of women, most of whom I assumed, believed the handsome bad boy was innocent, marched in the streets, proclaiming Beck was framed. What had I gotten myself into? I didn’t have time to think about that because loud voices boomed out from down the hall.

  “What happened now?” I groaned.

  Poking my head out the door, there Beck stood, flanked by support staff and teammates.

  Was no one else bothered by the fact this supposed superstar crashed a car full of people into a truck after a night of drinking?

  Apparently not, because everyone was fawning over him, checking him for injuries, praying he didn’t get a scratch on his body.

  “Mr. Alexander,” I started.

  No response.

  I suppose the cheers and high-fives around the room were far more important than allowing me to do my job and save his ass.

  “Excuse me!” I raised my voice, taking it to street level decibels. “What is going on here? Mr. Alexander, can I speak to you please?”

  The hero had the nerve to wink and blow me a kiss, saying, “Sure thing, sweetheart.”

  Oh, no, he didn’t!

  “Excuse you? I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that. You must have bumped your head in that crash because I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to speak to the woman who was about to save your career that way,” I said, anger mounting in the pit of my stomach. My job was on the line and this piece of work acted like all of this was a big game, like it didn’t matter at all. No skin off his back.

  When I thought my message got through to him, the chauvinistic jerk walked over to me and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Sorry, hon, I have to take a leak first. Long night.”

  Normally, I’d never let a complete stranger get me flustered, but this man wasn’t exactly any ordinary man. He was the football phenomenon – the one every agent in the business wanted to get their hands on. Not to mention, he was sexy as hell with a body built like an action figure and hauntingly beautiful gray eyes, the kind Hollywood casting agents bent over backwards for in order to get him to sign his name on the dotted line. Sparkly vampire handsome with muscles and a winning smile, full lips, and dark hair. He was the epitome of perfection, if you overlooked his womanizing and partying ways.

  “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” A twinkle in his eye, he continued with the humiliation. “Don’t worry, it’s not a heart attack; it’s just me.”

  What a jerk! A fine jerk, but still a jerk.

  “Beck, get in here now!” Cole bellowed from his corner office, overlooking the city skyline.

  “Aw, looks like we’ll have to take a rain check. These guys can’t live without me,” Beck said as he sauntered over to Cole’s office, pausing to hug support staff and gloat.

  I shook my head. I didn’t know if it was in response to his gall or in response to the scent of his cologne, but he shook me. He smelled like musk and sex appeal – my favorite scent on a man. Damn!

  All eyes were on me. I could feel them, judging, taunting me. There would be jokes aplenty regarding how badly the handler mishandled their star player.

  Way to make a first impression, Isla. You’re a real rock star.

  “Looks like you’ll have to get in line behind the rest of them,” Jared said, eyeing me with the curiosity of a lion assessing his next meal.

  “I’m not waiting for anyone. Who does he think he is; some kind of demigod?” I grumbled.

  “Demigod? Sorry, but we’re ballers here; we don’t understand fancy, college speak,” Jared teased, much to the delight of others.

  Cole glared at me as the others laughed. It didn’t take him long to summon me in what I guessed was the only tone he used with women -- demeaning. “Johnson, get your ass in here now!”

  I gulped, pushing my fear as far down as I could get it to go on short notice. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Well, hello there, pretty PR lady,” Beck said, his long legs outstretched in front of him.

  “Isla,” I said as I climbed over his muscular limbs.

  “Sorry, what was that again?” He smirked.

  I took a deep breath before answering him. “Look, you can call me Isla or you can call me Miss Johnson, but never – I mean, never ever – call me sweetheart, hon, baby, or any other variety of what you think are terms of endearment. They make you sound like a chauvinistic pig.”

  I knew I’d touched a nerve when he sat up straighter in his seat.

  “There, that’s better,” I said, adding a satisfied grin to my face.

  “If you two are done dicking around, perhaps we can get some shit done,” Cole said.

  Wow, another one who had a way with words. I was going to love working here.

  “Listen, boss, everything’s alright. No one got hurt.” Beck tried to smooth things over with syrupy sounding words. “If it’s about that piece of shit Bentley, I already contacted my accountant; I’ll buy the lawyer a new one.”

  Cole kicked his desk. “Are you that fucking stupid? You know what; I want you off the team. Pack up your shit and get out of here. We don’t need you here.”

  I swallowed hard. Things had taken an ugly turn.

  “Whoa,” Coach Lawson stood in between Cole and a smug-looking Beck. “Let’s not go off the deep end. Slow down and think about what you’re saying, Cole.”

  Beck put his head in his hands. What do you know; the jock had a conscience.

  I didn’t realize the rumbling I heard was laughter until Beck fell off his seat from the vibrations. He laughed until his eyes moistened, not at all fazed by our stunned responses.

  “Get out!” Cole’s face turned purple with rage. “Get your ass out of my office, out of my building. Get the fuck out!”

  The smile never left Beck’s face.

  What was wrong with this man?

  “So help me, if you don’t get him out of here, I’ll call the police,” Cole threatened.

  Beck stood up, smoothing his hands over his pant legs. “You don’t mean that. What do you need? D
o you want a new car? I noticed your Range Rover is looking a little rough. If that’s what it is, I’ll--“

  I couldn’t believe my ears. This man – – a white football player, no less – thought he owned the team. He thought he was running the show. Hell, he thought he was the show. I had to stop him. There was more than his reputation on the line. There was my job -- my new job in a new town and a new apartment that had to be paid for monthly or I’d have to borrow money for a bus ticket back to Chicago. Back to the life I left.

  Nope. No way, no how. Not on my time. He wasn’t going to take me down with his smug, egotistical, grab-ass ship.

  “Stop! Stop talking now!” I tugged Beck’s arm. “If you value your life, you’ll follow me. I’m handling this.” Turning to Cole, I said, “Let me have a heart to heart with Beck and we’ll straighten all of this out, I promise.”

  “No! He needs to be thrown out on his ass!” Cole screamed at the top of his lungs.

  I turned to look at Beck, who hadn’t budged an inch. “Come with me.”

  “Well, that’s a first. I usually give women the pleasure--” He stopped short, looking behind me.

  I turned around to find Cole a shade of red I’d never seen on a human being before. “Oh my God!”

  Coach Lawson took the opportunity to push me and Beck toward the door. “Get him out of here before he makes Cole have a coronary.”

  This time, Beck listened to reason. He walked out, not bothering to wait for me.

  “Hey, where are you going?” I shouted at him as I stepped out of Cole’s office.

  “I told you, you’ll have to wait in line. I’m a busy man, swee… I mean, Miss PR Lady.” He winked and sauntered toward the hallway. Somewhere along the way, he must have remembered that reporters from all over the world had positioned themselves outside, anxiously waiting for him to emerge with his tail between his legs.

  “Alright, I’ll give you five minutes,” he said, grimacing at me.

  “This is going to take a lot longer than five minutes,” I said, not realizing how it sounded until the players still milling about started laughing. “You people are pathetic.”

  With that remark, they applauded. This job was going to be the death of me, I knew it.

  He led me to my office. Apparently, his ownership of all things New York Liberties extended to my office as well. As long as I didn’t let that extend to me and my bottom line, I was in the clear. I hoped.

  Holding the door open for me, he motioned for me to step inside. “After you, Isla.”

  I hoped he didn’t feel the goosebumps that covered my arms at the sound of my name rolling off his tongue as I brushed past him to get into my small office. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Now, tell me how much it’s going to cost to clean this mess up,” he said, settling himself into my chair.

  “That’s my desk,” I said.

  “You’re right. Here, let me help you to your seat.” He offered me his hand, but no way on Earth was I going to allow him to touch me.

  No matter how hard I tried to keep my voice steady, my words still came out like I was jumping up and down. “This isn’t about money. It’s about saving you from yourself. Tell me what happened. Everything.”

  His eyebrows quirked up mischievously. “Everything? All the dirty details?” He asked.

  My throat went dry. What was he trying to do to me? “Yes, everything. Well, everything up to the point you were placed under arrest.”

  He laughed a low, guttural laugh. “Arrested? I didn’t get arrested.”

  How did he manage that? Who was this guy?

  “What happened then?” I braced myself for his reply.

  Coach Lawson barged in then, followed by Cole. “Did you handle it?”

  I cleared my throat. “We just started strategizing. It’s going to take some time.”

  “Well, we don’t have time. What the hell are you going to do? We have the media outside. I have to tell them something,” Cole yelled, his throat now hoarse.

  “Don’t worry. We have a plan.” Beck winked at me.

  What was he up to?

  He grabbed my hand and led me out of my office to the elevators.

  “What are you doing? We can’t run from this,” I urged him.

  “We’re not,” he said, sounding sure of himself.

  I hadn’t prepared for the chaos outside the building. Reporters, fans, and concerned citizens yelled, pushed, shoved, and fought their way through the crowd to get a closer look at the spectacle that was Beck.

  “Smile and follow my lead,” he said, still holding my hand.

  “Let go of my hand,” I hissed behind the smile I’d planted on my face for the cameras.

  Beck ignored me, squeezing my hand tightly. “Hey, folks, how’s it going?” He smiled for the crowd.

  Questions came from all around us. This was a media circus and I got the feeling I was the bearded lady. I hadn’t been formerly introduced to the media yet. In fact, it was my job to handle that. I’d planned to, but not like this and not today.

  “I have an announcement,” Beck stated. “Sorry ladies, but I’m no longer available. As of last night, I am officially engaged. Meet my blushing fiancée and PR manager, Isla Johnson.”

  Chapter Three – Isla

  Myheart raced in my chest. Given the way the media reacted to Beck’s stunning revelation, I could only imagine what the powers that be – my boss, Cole and his management team – would have to say about this. My fresh start had soured, and fast.

  “Relax. Smile. Play the role. This is how things work. If you give them a juicy story, they’ll forget all about the thing they came to see you about in the first place. You, of all people, should know that,” Beck explained.

  The team formed a wall with their bodies, blocking my view of Cole and Coach Lawson in the offices behind them. It was probably better that I couldn’t see them. I’m positive neither of the two had a smile waiting for me.

  I braced myself for harsh criticism, closing my eyes.

  “What are you doing? Open your eyes,” Beck said, taking my hand in his. “Why are you shaking?”

  I fought to control my breathing. What had I gotten myself into? I wanted to go home and forget any of this ever happened.

  Applause rang out, sending me into a panic attack. My heart beat violently in my chest while my hands trembled.

  “Congratulations!”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Cole’s angry eyes deceived his pleasant tone.

  “You’re engaged!” Coach Lawson yelled.

  I hung my head, embarrassed that I’d allowed Beck to proclaim he and I were a couple without so much as consulting with me first. I was stronger, bolder than that. At least, I used to think I was.

  “You’re engaged?” Cole’s voice shook the room. “When the hell were you planning to tell me?”

  I hoped his question was directed at Beck, but when Beck didn’t respond, I realized the question was aimed at me. I shrugged. “I… I…”

  “We wanted to keep it private for a while, but I couldn’t do it anymore. I mean, look at her; would you hide her?” Beck grabbed me, lifting me off the ground.

  “Put me down,” I hissed in his ear.

  “No can do. If you want to keep your job, go with it,” Beck whispered back to me.

  Cole stared up at me wide-eyed, smoke practically billowing out of his ears. “My office now!”

  My fake fiancé didn’t move as quickly as Cole would have wished. I could tell by the fifty shades of purple Cole’s face turned as he watched Beck’s shenanigans. The room spun. Soon, my feet were flailing in the air, coming dangerously close to slapping several of the players across their faces.

  “Put me down!” I ordered Beck as I tried to squirm out of his tight hold on me. “Put me down right this second or I’ll…”

  “Or you’ll what?” Beck stopped spinning, loosening his grip on me. “You’re going to do what exactly?”

  I could tell by the twinkle in his gra
y eyes that this amused him. This was a game to him. I got the feeling every moment of his life was some sort of game. A challenge. Something he made a point of conquering.

  “You’re an ass.” I wiggled myself out of his arms, dropping to the ground with a loud thud. “Don’t do that again.”

  Cole stormed off, swearing.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. If anyone was going to smooth things over, it was going to be me. Obviously, Beck was incapable of handling himself well off the field.

  Coach Lawson stood in front of me, his eyes boring into mine. “Fix this. That’s what we hired you to do, isn’t it? You didn’t think it was prudent to inform us that you were one of Beck’s girls?”

  I was appalled, but what could I do? If I argued, I’d be out of a job. If I said nothing, all the assumptions he and everyone else in the organization had already made would be deemed true. I was doomed. Short of curling up in a ball and crying, I had no recourse. The jackass jock screwed me and not in a good way. Nothing remotely pleasurable about this experience.

  That was it; I couldn’t stand there and listen to any more of this nonsense. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. “You know what; I’m done. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I’m leaving,” I said, turning on my heel to leave and get as far away from this place – these men – as fast as possible.

  “Wait, baby. Don’t be mad. Let me talk to you,” Beck called out to me.

  I’d forgotten the only way out was through the elevator, and the only elevator was only a few feet away from the office I’d just stormed out of. There I stood, tapping my foot, wishing the good Lord would take pity on me and take me to the pearly gates before I did something that would surely get me a one-way ticket to jail.

  “Listen,” Beck started as he stepped out into the hallway. “Will you calm down? What are you shaken up about? You’re not the one looking at a court date for a DUI.”

  He really had no clue. For him, life was easy. He could play ball. People gave him things because he happened to play it quite well. He was handsome. More handsome than any man I’d ever seen – black, white, yellow, or green. So, naturally, people threw themselves at his feet, hoping for a morsel of his attention. He readily obliged them. To him, I was no one. Nothing. Just another notch on the proverbial belt of people he discarded after he got what he wanted. I didn’t matter to him, but I’ll be damned if I’d let him treat me like I hadn’t worked my ass off to get to this point.