Page 12 of The Game Changer
Moving through the corridor on the bottom level of the stadium, away from the coaches offices where I’ve just finished reviewing our new player recruits with Rafe, I smile and nod at everyone I pass. It might be unconventional to be such a hands-on, present owner, but I don’t care. This place is my legacy.
Normally I’d take the stairs, but my leg has been aching a lot lately, so instead, I head for the single elevator that provides access to all the levels of the building. I suppose I should be glad the previous team owners cared at least a little bit about accessibility. The elevator arrives, and I step in, thumbing through some unread emails on my phone. We’ve been waiting on someone to come and service the old elevator for a couple of weeks, nothing major, just routine maintenance. It starts to move upward, then comes to a stop just one level up. My gaze lifts as the doors open and meets a bright green one.
“Luca. Hi.”
I smile. “Hey, wonder woman.”
She blushes prettily. “Why would you call me that?” She moves to stand across from me, close, given the tight confines, but I wish she was closer. The elevator doors close and it slowly starts to move again. Pocketing my phone, I turn to her.
“Because I’m so impressed by everything you’ve managed to do in just a few weeks.”
Her blush deepens. I’m toeing the line of inappropriate, and I know it. Thank fuck she doesn’t seem upset.
What I hold back from admitting is the fact that ever since she started, Isla has had me tied up in fucking knots. Just looking at her makes me want to throw professionalism out the window and ask her if she’ll let me take her to dinner.
It’s ridiculous, seeing as I barely know her, but what I do know, I like.
Out of nowhere, the elevator shudders and comes to a complete stop, followed by an annoying alarm sound.
“Holy shit,” Isla says, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “What just happened?”
I turn to the panel and try to push the button to open the doors. “I don’t know.” Nothing works, so I press the call button next, hoping it’s still connected to somewhere.
“Tyson Elevators, how may I assist you?” a tinny-sounding voice comes from the speaker. Thank fuck.
“Hi, this is Luca Calloway over at the Cedar Creek Thunder Stadium. Our main elevator just came to a stop between floors, and I’m stuck in here with one of my staff. Can you help?”
“I’m sorry to hear that Mr. Calloway, I can see there’s been a small malfunction in your system. We’ll dispatch emergency services right away to get you out of there and send a crew to repair the malfunction. Hang on, let me get you an ETA on your extraction.”
I hear Isla stifle a giggle at the formal-sounding report, and turn away from the speaker to whisper, “Someone’s been watching a few too many spy movies.”
I can see her shoulders shake with silent laughter. At least she isn’t freaking out.
“Alright, Cedar Creek Fire is on their way. They said it could be up to an hour, however. I will have an elevator technician on premises later this afternoon. Would you like me to stay on the line until rescue arrives?”
“No, we’re fine. Thank you.” The audible click of the call disconnecting echoes in the small space.
“Should we text anyone here to let them know?” Isla asks.
“Yeah. Good plan. Dom’s probably wondering whereI am, actually, we were meant to be meeting right now. I’ll let him and Gabe know what’s happening.” I quickly type out an explanation of our current predicament to the two of them, then pocket my phone. “So, I guess now we wait.”
Isla’s got her lower lip tugged between her teeth as she nods. “Guess so.” She sits down, cross-legged, leaning against the wall and gestures to the wall behind me. “Might as well get comfy.”
Shit. Sitting down on the floor isn’t as simple for me as it is for her. I’m saved by her phone vibrating, and when she looks at it, I try to move as quickly as I can without it being obvious I’ve got a prosthetic leg. It means mine are outstretched, not folded like hers, and I make sure my pants are fully covering the bottom of my leg, even going so far as to cross my good one over top to cover any sign of my artificial limb.
It’s silent for an awkward moment or two before I clear my throat. “How is your son liking Cedar Creek so far?”
That earns me a small smile. “I think he’s doing okay. Back in Victoria, he was in a middle school, but here, he’s already at the high school. Which could be a good thing, I guess. More options for classes and more kids.” Her expression shutters. “He has a disability that he was getting bullied for at his old school. Time will tell if that’s a problem here as well.”
My blood boils at the thought of her son facing bullies. I had my share of tormentors in school. Not many, seeing as Cedar Creek was a smaller town back then, but enough.
“I hope not,” I growl.
“Me too.” She shifts in her seat, and I watch curiously as a visible change comes over her. As if she’s putting on a coat of armour, masking her vulnerability. I wonder how often she has to do that. I wish she knew she didn’t have to hide it with me. Because knowing her son has a disability and has been bullied for it only makes me want to protect them both.
“May I ask, is his disability serious? I know your temporary position doesn’t cover extended medical benefits but if you need anything?—”
“We’re fine, but thank you,” she interrupts stiffly. “He was born with a congenital limb difference. But after twelve and a half years, we know how to handle most things.”
