Their after hours playbo.., p.1
Their After Hours Playbook, page 1
“We need to set some ground rules for our flight.”
“So you’re sitting next to me?” Zach asked.
“I am,” Paige confirmed.
“Worried I’m going to go for a replay of last night in the bar?”
A tremor of that incident rumbled through her body. “Zach. Come on. Please stop messing with me.”
“I’m not. No matter what happened last night or this morning, I’m determined that you and I will be friends. I’ll respect your boundaries. You said you don’t want anything to do with me and that’s fine.”
“I don’t think I put it that way. Did I?”
“You said it was just sex. And I said that I didn’t understand what the problem was with just sex. That was the beginning of the end.”
“You want to be friends?”
“I do.”
“Okay. Then let’s be friends. Just friends. That’s it.”
“I can live with that. For now.”
Dear Reader,
I can hardly believe it, but this is my final book for Harlequin Desire. I’m a bit of an emotional wreck thinking about this incredible journey! It started when editor Patience Bloom asked if I might be interested in submitting to Harlequin. Two years later, in 2015, That Night with the CEO came out. It was such an amazing moment. I went on to write twenty-seven more books for Desire. There have been plucky heroines, secret babies, surprise pregnancies and more CEOs than I can count! Along the way, I had so much support. The entire editorial staff at Harlequin has been magnificent. My agent, Melissa Jeglinski, has always had my back. And my fellow Desire authors have been my rocks. I’m so grateful.
I hope you enjoy Their After Hours Playbook. It’s a fun and emotional story of two people who fit together perfectly, even if their worlds don’t. It’s got a great happy ending. As it should.
Drop me a line at karen@karenbooth.net and let me know if you enjoyed Their After Hours Playbook. I’ve got more books to come, and I love hearing from readers!
Karen
Their After Hours Playbook
Karen Booth
Karen Booth is a Midwestern girl transplanted in the South, raised on ’80s music and repeated readings of Forever... by Judy Blume. When she takes a break from the art of romance, she’s listening to music with her grown-up kids or sweet-talking her husband into making her a cocktail. Learn more about Karen at karenbooth.net.
Books by Karen Booth
Harlequin Desire
Their After Hours Playbook
Little Black Book of Secrets
The Problem with Playboys
Black Tie Bachelor Bid
How to Fake a Wedding Date
The Sterling Wives
Once Forbidden, Twice Tempted
High Society Secrets
All He Wants for Christmas
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
You can also find Karen Booth on Facebook, along with other Harlequin Desire authors, at Facebook.com/HarlequinDesireAuthors!
For Stacy Boyd.
Through secret babies, surprise pregnancies
and CEOs, thank you for letting me be part of
Harlequin Desire. It has meant the world to me.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Excerpt from One Wild Wedding Weekend by Janice Maynard
One
Zach Armstrong’s manifesto was nearly complete. Fifty-seven tightly written pages, along with twenty-four supplemental graphs and diagrams. It was a road map to push Armstrong Sports into the twenty-first century and catapult them past the competition. Implementing this wasn’t going to be easy, but he was the CEO now. The boss. He’d been waiting his entire life for a chance like this.
With more than eighty employees, including thirty agents, several hundred athlete clients and a luxe, sprawling office in Midtown Manhattan, it was a massive responsibility. Everyone was counting on him for their livelihood. It wasn’t bravado, but he welcomed the challenge. He thrived on pressure, long hours and hard work. And the fact that his job brought together the three things he loved most in the world—sports, being an agent and his family—was all the inspiration and encouragement he would ever need.
Zach’s admin, Teri, stepped into the doorway of his office. Tall and trim, she wore her brown hair in a chin-length bob and seemed to always dress in gray. Zach had worked with her from his first days in the marketing department, when Teri showed him the ropes for a few years until he transitioned to being an agent. It was only right that Zach brought her along when he moved into the executive offices. “Is there anything else I can do for you before you head over to the draft?” Teri leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms over her chest.
He glanced at the time on his computer screen. The Women’s Professional Basketball Association, or WPBA, draft was set to happen in a little over an hour. “The day flew by. I’ve got to get going soon.” His vision swiftly returned to his work. He felt a tug deep in the center of his chest. He could hone this document for hours. That’s how strongly he believed in his mission, but also how much he knew it had to be perfect.
“I still can’t believe you’re doing this, but I’m glad you are. I’m glad you’re dragging this agency out of the Stone Age.” Teri had worked for Armstrong for nearly twenty years. She started a good decade before Zach arrived. She was well aware of how things around there never seemed to change. Case in point—in the entire history of the firm, less than one percent of their clients had been female athletes.
“Growth requires progress and change, and I’m determined to grow our agency. The way I see it, I owe it to my dad.” Zach’s father was actually his stepdad, Tom Armstrong, who, until three weeks ago, had been the CEO of the company.
Teri walked into Zach’s office and nodded at one of the chairs in front of his desk. “May I?”
“Of course.”
She took a seat and crossed her legs. “Is that how you plan to sell all of this to Tom? As a growth strategy?” She cocked an eyebrow.
“The fact that I’m going to the draft?”
“No one from our agency has ever attended the event. Tom doesn’t know you’re going, does he?”
Zach shook his head and shut down his computer, then organized some folders on his desk. “No. He does not.”
“Zach, this thing is nationally televised. What if a camera catches you? Then everyone will know what you’re up to.”
It was ridiculous that this part of Zach’s plan might be deemed in any way controversial, but this was where he found himself. Zach’s stepdad, Tom, had always professed that it only made “smart fiscal sense” to focus on male athletes since they historically made more money in sports. Tom wasn’t wrong about that, but times were changing, and Zach was intent on creating a far more diverse client roster. This was about building resiliency within their company. If they didn’t, Armstrong might be left behind like the dinosaur it was quickly becoming.
“Hopefully no one will spot me on TV. And if they do, then I’ll deal with it. I’m having dinner with my mom and Tom tomorrow night. I’m presenting my plan to him then.”
“How do you think he’s going to take it?”
Despite Zach’s rules-be-damned approach, he was still unsure how this would all go. Certainly Tom would pick apart the economics of Zach’s idea to go outside their current business model. Plus, Zach was under strict orders not to upset Tom, lest his blood pressure get out of whack. “I’m going in armed with numbers. Lots and lots of numbers. With the amount of dollar signs attached, he’ll listen.”
“Good. He’ll like that aspect of things, I’m sure. Are you also going to tell him that you want to hire more women agents, too?”
“Absolutely. Of course, it’ll be a lot easier if you tell me that I can mention you as one of our new agents.”
“Oh, no. I’m happy being support staff in the executive offices. I’m not a shark like you.”
“I’m not a shark, Teri. I’m more of a honey badger.”
“Cute and fuzzy on the outside, but will do anything and everything to get what you want?”
He laughed quietly. “Precisely. I do not care what stands in my way.”
“I’m sure that’s what Tom loves most about you being in charge,” Teri said.
Zach hoped that proved to be true. Although Tom wasn’t his biological dad, Zach thought of him that way. He was the only father Zach had ever known. And he’d also been an incredible husband to Zach’s mom, who’d married Tom when Zach was only two years old. “I guess we’ll see, huh?”
“We sure will.” Teri straightened in her seat. “I’d wish you good luck, but something tells me you’ll do just fine in a room full of women.”
Zach laughed as he wrote himself a few notes in his planner for tomorrow. He did have a reputation for turning on the charm, but it was never anything intentional. It was just the way he was. It wasn’t his fault that women were drawn
“Let me guess. Paige Moss?”
“Tom never liked her. And apparently the feeling was mutual.” Tom’s advice rang loudly in his head. Watch out for Paige Moss. She’s a pit viper. Zach had never understood why Tom disliked Paige or her agency so much, but Tom had a poor opinion of other agents. They were all the enemy. Zach didn’t see it that way. Yes, they were competition, but Zach felt it was best practice to know everyone and play nice when possible. You never knew when a sliver of kindness might pay a dividend. And if you eventually had to screw someone over, hopefully they’d remember that you weren’t all bad. “I should probably get out of here.” He got up from his desk.
“Good luck. I expect a full report tomorrow.” Teri rose from her chair, then led them out into the hall.
Zach splintered off from Teri and strode down the corridor, nodding and waving to his employees in their individual offices. A few people offered thin smiles, although their newest agent, Derek James, grinned from ear to ear as he paced his office, talking on the phone. Derek was hungry. He was eager to learn and climb the ladder of success. Zach liked Derek. Even if he could be a bit much sometimes. Some people in the office delivered an expression closer to a sneer. Not everyone was excited about Zach’s promotion. Some people resented him. After all, Zach was only thirty years old and there were some agents who’d worked at Armstrong for nearly as long as Zach had been alive. But Zach couldn’t let the chilly reception of a few dissuade him. He’d win them all over eventually.
He took the elevator down to the ground floor of their building and started the fifteen-or twenty-minute walk to the hotel where the draft was taking place. It was a beautiful April day, and Zach appreciated the chance to get outside for a few minutes, even though the sidewalk on 45th Street was jam-packed with people. He’d been cooped up in the office all day, and even he could admit that he’d been working too hard. He navigated the pedestrian congestion of Times Square and crossed Broadway to reach the hotel. As he looked up at the tower of glass and steel above him, he took a deep breath and reminded himself that he was on the precipice of making change, and that was a good thing.
Inside, Zach rode the escalator up to the third floor, then looped the all-access pass he’d obtained through a friend in the WPBA league offices around his neck. He ventured into the ballroom where the draft was taking place and began winding his way under rows of balloon arches while masses of people filtered inside. Dance music thumped through speakers and a festive feeling was in the air. It was like arriving at a New Year’s Eve party. Not a work event. At one end of the space was a large stage adorned with a WPBA backdrop and podium. Before it were dozens of round tables for the top projected picks, as well as their families and agents. The perimeter of the room was ringed with bleachers brimming with fans, while reporters milled about, talking to draft prospects as they waited for the proceedings to begin.
Zach’s plan was simple—work the room, talk to as many players as he could, and congratulate them and their families. He would acknowledge their hard work and dedication. He’d make sure they knew his name and that Armstrong Sports was ready to jump with both feet into women’s sports. He was about to get started when he spotted Paige Moss chatting with her star client, Alexis Simmons, who was projected to go number one in the draft. He knew he was supposed to fear Paige, but he didn’t have it in him, mostly because her dangerous curves, which were all wrapped up in a sinful black dress, were impossible to ignore. Her glossy blond locks were pulled up in a high ponytail that wagged back and forth as she talked, like she was brandishing a whip.
They’d never met, but he’d seen her in lots of photos. She was even more beautiful in person. Sexy. Tempting. A lesser man might avoid her, but not Zach. As soon as he made his way through the rest of the room, he was going to face the opposition head-on. And he sure as hell was going to enjoy the view while he did.
* * *
Paige Moss had every reason to be on top of the world tonight. Her client Alexis Simmons, one of the most talented point guards to ever bring a basketball up the court, was likely going to go number one in the WPBA draft. But it was the likely part that put her on edge. A lot of things hadn’t gone well for Paige in the last few years, personally and professionally—her divorce, her feud with Tom Armstrong and, most recently, the passing of Paige’s inspiration: her mom. Paige really wished she could have a guarantee tonight. Unfortunately, there were none of those in the world of professional sports agenting.
“Why do you seem so nervous? I should be the one who’s nervous.” Alexis tapped away at her phone with her acrylic nails. She didn’t wear them during basketball season because she was too much of a battler, but she embraced them when it was time to dress up. Paige could hardly blame her. Alexis looked like a model—tall and trim, with long black braids, high cheekbones and a flawless warm brown complexion. Her nails were simply the perfect touch.
Paige put her arm around her client’s shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze. “I’m not nervous. I’m just excited for you. This is all of your hard work coming to fruition. I hope you can appreciate that although this is a big moment in the spotlight, it’s only the first of many.”
Alexis smiled. “Thank you, Paige. Thank you for being there for me. I will never forget it.”
“No need to thank me. Just doing my job.” Of course, to Paige, being a sports agent was so much more than that. It was an all-consuming career, and she couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else. She loved sports, but more importantly, she loved women in sports. And she owed all of that to her mom.
Paige turned to survey the room and that was when she spotted a man who made her do a double take, and not just because he was unreasonably handsome. Either her eyes were deceiving her or that was Zach Armstrong. “What the hell is he doing here?” He had zero reason to be at this event.
Alexis looked up from her phone. “What? Who?”
Paige shook her head. Logic said that she should look away. Ignore Zach. But she couldn’t peel her eyes off him. It was partly because he was so nice to look at, but mostly, she was so damn confused. Zach’s agency didn’t sign female athletes. “Just an agent who has no reason to be here.”
“Who?”
Paige couldn’t turn away. “Zach Armstrong. He’s running Armstrong Sports, the most notoriously misogynistic agency in the history of sports.”
“Hold up. I know that name. He sent me flowers.”
That made Paige whip around to focus on Alexis. “Excuse me? He did what?”
Alexis shrugged. “He sent me flowers. The card said congratulations and wished me well for the future. But lots of people sent me flowers.”
“Other agents?”
She tilted her head to the side, thinking about it. “No.”
“Exactly.” Paige felt frozen, while her blood was at a boil so fast it made her dizzy. Take a breath, Paige. Take a damn breath. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m going to find my mom, then go sit at our table. Don’t take too long. We’ve both worked too hard for you to miss my pick.”
Paige grasped Alexis’s arm. “I promise you. I will not miss it. I’ll be back in five minutes.” Paige turned on her heel and marched across the room. All she could think about were the insulting things Zach’s stepdad, Tom, had said to her over the years. Now that Tom had been sidelined, did Zach think he could poach Alexis? Show up at the draft, tall and handsome and dressed in a suit that was tailored within an inch of his life, wearing a smug grin that said he was the crown prince of Armstrong Sports? What in the hell was he up to?
She came to a halt at a respectable distance, or more specifically, when she got a whiff of him that was so heavenly it made it hard to walk in heels. “You’re Zach Armstrong.” It wasn’t a question.
“I am.” His voice was rich with firm but warm tones.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked to see you here.”
“And you’re Paige Moss. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t absolutely delighted to see you.” He took a step closer. Between his shoulders and his considerable height, if felt like he blocked out all light in the room, but she caught the moment when his eyes were drawn to her neckline and he couldn’t help but peer right down the front of her dress. So let him look. He wouldn’t be the first man who’d become enamored by her breasts.
