Love Me (Trust Series #2) (20 page)

As he secures me by his side, Damien addresses them, “Bridget, Frank, I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Allison. Alli, Frank is one of the team managers, and Bridget is one of my PR managers.”

The older man smiles at me, and I cannot help but instantly warm to him.

He’s the first to come forward. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Wales.”

I return his handshake and reply warmly, “Thank you. Nice to meet you, too, Frank.”

Bridget is looking me over a little more closely, almost scrutinizing, as she walks to me. She immediately has my irritation levels rising.

“Mrs. Wales, I’d like to use you in some promotional shots as a new addition to the team.”

I’m about to respond when Damien beats me to the punch. “Bridget, we have discussed this. Her beauty is not to be exploited. You are only to use what I’ve given you permission to. I understand your job is to get publicity for the team, but don’t defy me on this. You will respect my wife. Don’t push it.”

The way he talks to some of these people would have me shrinking where I stood.

Bridget continues appraising me before she moves her attention back to Damien. “The public is intrigued with your story. I would like to suggest that the both of you join the manager’s line during the national anthem. It will show Mrs. Wales’s commitment to the team and that you really are a united front. With what has been stated by the press about the pregnancy rumors, I’m afraid that some unpleasant things might be said if they don’t see you both interacting more with each other.”

Damien looks at me. “Alli, what do you think?”

Like I’m going to cower in front of this chick.
“Whatever is best for the team, I’ll do.”

She cheers, “Spoken like a true supporter.”

Or maybe his wife.
But it’s not worth correcting her at this point.

Damien continues to watch me, and I give him a smile. He then turns to address his PR manager. “Bridget, brief Bane, my head of security, on what will happen. He’s to have whatever he needs.”

“Yes, Mr. Wales. I’ll come get you from the skybox as soon as we are ready. It’ll be about forty-five minutes.”

“Very good.”

We begin to make our way to the elevators as Bridget fills Bane in on the details. Her shoes make so much noise as she walks.

Click. Click. Click.

Bane actually appears to be a little stressed, like he’s having heart pains. It’s the most emotion I’ve seen out of him—ever. I can’t blame him though because I’m having coronary problems myself.

I’m going to be on national television. Gah, I need to pull myself together.

I’m the wife of one of the most respected sports moguls in the United States. I should have expected that something like this would happen.

Time to get my big girl panties on.

Geez, I hope I didn’t lose them somewhere.

Arriving at the skybox, I spot Sam immediately. She stands out among everyone. She has on her black leather skinny pants, blue fall sweater that falls off her shoulders, and blue patent leather stiletto heels. She’s mingling as if she owns the joint.

In a low tone, I say to Damien, “I think you’ve created a monster.”

Damien looks over at his now sister-in-law and chuckles. “As long as she’s a monster who makes us a lot of money, I think it’s a fair trade from having a sweet adorable sister-in-law.”

That earns him a playful slap on the shoulder.

Just then, Sam spots us. She saunters up, and we hug.

“Hey, girl,” she says.

“Hey, looks like you’ve got it all under control here.”

“Oh, you know me. I wasn’t sure if you two were going to surface from all your canoodling. Oh, Wales, you owe me a check—a big one. Kicker is signed on for three more years.”

I cannot help but laugh.
Oh geez, Damien is in trouble.

He told me he thought it would take Sam at least a couple of weeks before she signed this guy. I guess forty-eight hours is all a girl really needs.

Damien gives her a pat on the shoulder and chuckles as he says. “Good job, Sam. I’m glad you’re on my side, or you’d be hell for my team.”

“Damn straight, and don’t you forget that.” She gives him a sassy wink. She’s on top of the world right now, and her personality is in full force.

Someone calls Damien over.

He leans toward me. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sounds good. I’ll catch up with Sam for a bit.”

He gives me a kiss on the cheek and then walks across the room. I notice he stays in my direct line of sight the entire time.

Sam starts talking as soon as Damien is gone. “So, you will—”

I cut her off and look around quickly to make sure no one is close enough to hear me. “Sam, they want me to go down with Damien to the field for the national anthem. It’s to show my support for the team since so many rumors are floating around. Sam, it’s national T.V. I’m trying to find my big girl panties right now, but I’ve lost them.”

Her green eyes are laughing at me.

Damn her.

She knows how I loathe public attention of any kind.

She grabs my hand. “You’ll be fine. You look awesome. Just keep a pleasant smile plastered on your face. If someone says something negative, pretend you don’t hear it. If they say something positive, increase your smile a little and give a wave. Piece of cake. You are one of the few people I know who can completely slip behind a mask and not show outwardly that anything is affecting you—unless it’s Damien. Then, you’re just a total hot mess and can’t help how you respond.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Anytime, babe.”

And just like that, I’m good to go. I know I can handle this. It’s part of the life I’ve chosen with Damien. I’m going to be there for my husband in whatever way he needs me, like he is for me.

Sam and I continue to mingle. Most of the people are the same ones from the last game, but I see a few new faces. People seem like they want to talk to me. They are seeking me out. It’s probably because they feel like I’m fresh meat, and I will be an easy way to get to Damien. Little do they know, for that exact reason, I stay out of his business and associated relationships as much as possible.

Sam and I are alone again for the first time in about thirty minutes.

Sam looks over at Damien. “Why doesn’t your husband just admit that he’s going to lose our bet?”

I’m about to respond when the irritating PR lady, Bridget, makes her way over to me. The way she saunters in her clipped walking manner grates on my nerves.

Click. Click. Click.

In her too high voice, she asks condescendingly, “Are you ready for this, Allison? Do I need to brief you on what is expected of you, like how to stand in line and give a proper wave?”

I was all Mrs. Wales in front of Damien, but now, she’s calling me Allison. I’m normally not a person who requires someone to address me formally, but this woman needs to know I’m not going to take her shit.

Before my best friend turns overly protective to Bridget’s obviously demeaning tone, I respond sweetly, “I prefer Mrs. Wales. Thank you for your offer, but I’ll have Damien guide me. Thanks, Bridget.”

I momentarily stun her, but she regains her composure. I feel an all too familiar hand come around my waist.

“Is everything okay here?” Damien asks.

Bridget’s hand goes up to her severely tight bun. “Yes, Mr. Wales. I was just checking with Mrs. Wales to see if she had any questions.”

I just continue smiling at her. Damien looks at me, trying to assess the situation.

I respond, “Yes, Bridget was attempting to be helpful.”

Splaying her hand out, she says, “This way, please.”

She’s a little more timid now.

Good.
I hate being a bitch, but I won’t be treated rudely. I wouldn’t treat her that way. As Mom always said,
Treat people better than how you want to be treated.

We follow Bridget out with security in tow.

Damien whispers in my ear, “Is everything okay?”

Matching his volume, I respond, “Yes, I’ve handled it. She was just a little out of line.”

“She’s gone. Just say the word.”

I give him a don’t-be-ridiculous look as we all get into the elevator to go to the pit of despair.

Here goes nothing. Big girl panties, do not fail me now.

I think I’m about to be sick as we approach the tunnel outside the locker rooms. When it’s time, the team will explode out onto the field, then we will line up behind the singer of the national anthem. Today’s singer is someone local who won some kind of school contest.

As we stand in the tunnel, I can hear all the players banging around in the locker room, getting psyched up. The coach says something, and then they all echo back. The players are getting more excited while my stomach is plummeting into a deep, dark abyss. Security has increased around Damien and me. As of late, it seems like security multiplies like rabbits on command.

A couple of the players start to emerge from the locker room. They are all suited up and banging on the walls. The game day spirit, seeing everyone so keyed up, is fascinating. The atmosphere is addictive. I’m trying to feed off of it to ease some of my tension.
It’s not working.

Bane is going over all of the safety measures with Damien for this new little turn of events. Damien still has a firm hold on my hand, rubbing those circles that help keep my fright at bay.

I turn right and see a familiar face approaching.

“Hey, Allison. I didn’t know you’d be joining us down here.”

It’s Mark, the quarterback of the team. Last time I saw him, Damien and Dustin were about to have a pissing match on the field. Mark was right there, looking like he was going to come to my defense if Dustin didn’t leave me alone.

Sam, Sam, Sam, you should go for this guy.

“Yes, I wanted to show my support for the team.”

He gently smiles and looks around. “Well, that’s nice. The team appreciates it. Are you planning on doing some photographs for us?”

Just then, Dustin saunters by and stares at us. He gives me a devilish grin and wink.

Creep.

I turn my attention back to Mark. “I am. The PR team is supposed to schedule something.”

Mark is searching for someone in the crowd. “That’s great. Is Sam here?”

Oh, that’s what he’s after.
I’m going to take it easy on the poor guy. I really like him. “She’s actually in the box. She should be around after the game.”

Damien has ended his conversation with Bane and has secured himself by my side, putting a possessive arm around my waist.

Mark responds, “Thanks, Allison. I appreciate it. I’ll catch up with her later.” He turns to Damien. “Mr. Wales.”

Damien replies, “Mark, have a good game.”

“Good Luck.” I echo Damien’s sentiment.

“Thanks, guys.” Mark walks off with the team and joins in the yelling.

My heart sinks for him because he has that look in his eyes. I actually really like him, which makes it harder to watch him fall for my best friend, who doesn’t want to be in a committed relationship.

Oh geez.
I just close my eyes for a brief moment wondering what I can do to help Sam.

When I open them, Damien is watching me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I just worry about Sam. She’s running from something, and I don’t know what it is. It’s obvious she’s hooked up with your quarterback. He’s pining after her.”

Damien just stares pensively at me.

The noise in the tunnel is growing louder and louder as more of the team filters out of the locker room.

“She’ll get it figured out, Alli. Sam just needs to find that perfect person who’s not going to let her run anymore,” he says.

“I know.”

At that, the team shoots out onto the field, erupting in cheers and applause. We follow next.

Damien slips on a public persona as he raises his hand and waves to the crowd. I follow suit and smile. The announcer has just finished stating some names when his loud, booming voice catches my attention.

“What a special treat. Owner, Mr. Damien Wales, is present with his ever-enchanting new bride, Mrs. Allison Wales.”

We receive a round of applause. I keep smiling when I really want to bend over and hurl.

Knowing my luck, that’ll happen if I don’t change my thoughts.

All of a sudden, a discernable cheer starts.

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!”

I can’t believe what I am hearing from eighty-thousand fans. Mortification does not even describe what I am feeling.

Damien quirks a brow, and before I realize what he is doing, he grabs me, dips me, and presses our lips together. For the first millisecond, I am completely embarrassed, but then I’m totally lost in his kiss as he shows the nation I am truly his. His touch alone makes me forget anything and everything. My hand snakes around his neck, and my mouth opens in invitation. He enters without hesitation, dominating my senses. Too soon, he pulls away and stands me back up.

Our eyes are locked as we stupidly smile at each other.

He mouths,
I love you
.

My smile grows wider, and I mouth it back to him. I’m about to lean up and give him another kiss when the cheers from the fans break into my realm of hearing.