Page 1 of The Game Changer
1
ISLA
“Thank you, parking gods.”I breathe a sigh of relief as I pull into a spot right in front of a coffee shop my GPS says is close to my destination. As I climb out of my car, I take a few seconds to look around at downtown Cedar Creek. Despite only being a couple of hours farther north from Victoria, the city on Vancouver Island I’ve called home for the last eleven years, I’ve never been here.
From what little I’ve seen so far, it’s cute. Somewhere between a small town and a bigger city. Vibrant and busy, yet not nearly as crowded and chaotic as Victoria can feel at times.
If things go well today, I could see a move to Cedar Creek being a good thing. Which means I need to impress the new owner of the Cedar Creek Thunder baseball team.
But first, caffeine.
The coffee shop I walk into is warm and inviting, with eclectic art on the walls and comfy-looking chairs. It’s the sort of place I’d love to sit and read a good booksomeday. But not today, I’ve only got half an hour before my interview. So, with a cup of strong Earl Grey tea and a chocolate croissant in hand, I turn to head back to my car, only to run straight into someone.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” I cry out, realizing with dismay that I’ve managed to spill tea on not only my blouse, but also the man’s shirt. “Crap, I hope that isn’t burning you.” I pluck the fabric away from my skin as I look up at the person I just bumped into.
Oh.
Oh my.
Tall, with dark hair that has silver threads shot throughout, and grey eyes that are piercing straight into me. A strong jaw, dusted with salt-and-pepper scruff, and thick, muscular shoulders covered in a perfectly form-fitted shirt. I’m fairly certain my heart skips a beat or two as my mouth goes dry. This man is beyond gorgeous and has all the long-forgotten parts of me sitting up and taking notice.
He’s walking, talking sex on a stick, and I’m a single mom who has only had sex twice in her life, both times with a clueless, fumbling teenage boy. I’ve got a vagina that’s so paranoid about how easy it was to make a baby, even with a condom, she’s been hiding from the big, bad dick ever since. But for a man like this, I might be able to convince her to come out of hiding…
If I had time for dating, that is.
I’m so busy trying not to drool, I don’t even realize he’s talking until I blink back to reality and hear his deep, warm, rumbling voice.
“…my fault. Can I replace your drink?”
“No, no. It’s fine,” I blurt out, sidestepping the gorgeous man. “I’ve gotta go. Sorry again about your shirt.”
I beat a hasty retreat to my car, not daring to look back. “Damn,” I sigh as I let my head fall back against the headrest. It’s not like I haven’t been attracted to any men recently or enjoyed some self-made orgasms to fantasies of my celebrity crushes. But something about coffee shop guy hit differently. Deeper. Something tells me he’ll be the star of those fantasies for a while now.
The cold dampness from my wet shirt has me grimacing and looking down at it. Light brown liquid has stained my pale green blouse, and it’s not a good look.
But I’m a mom. Which means I’m always prepared for anything. A glance in my gym bag that’s on the back seat proves this to be true, even if the Vancouver Tridents tank top that my kid got me for Christmas isn’t the most appropriate business attire. Then again, I am interviewing for a position with a baseball team, so maybe it’ll be okay.
It’s going to have to be okay. Because a poop-brown tea stain in the middle of my chest is a lot worse than a tank top. Thank goodness for my blazer. And for my planning skills that allowed me to get here early enough that I won’t be late for my interview, even with this wardrobe change.
A few minutes later, and I’m parked at the address I was given for the interview. I’ve got just long enough to devour the rich, flaky croissant and chug the last of my tea. One more glance in my rearview mirror to check myhair and my teeth for lip gloss before I pop a breath mint in my mouth.
“You can do this, Isla Forrester,” I say to my reflection. “You are an amazing branding and marketing consultant. You are exactly what this organization is looking for and you’re about to wow them with your ideas and expertise.”
As far as pep talks go, it’s not bad. Even if it does little to quell the nerves in my stomach. It’s been a long three months on the unemployment list, and this job, while only temporary, could be my ticket out of Victoria and on to better things.
Besides, I love baseball, I know the game, and more importantly, I know how to create a killer marketing campaign.
I climb out of my car and give a tug on the bottom hem of my blazer as I look up at the low-rise building where the interview is to take place. I’d expected to meet at the stadium, or the team’s head office, wherever that is. Instead, I’m at…a coworking space?
I quickly pull up the email inviting me to the interview and double-check I’m in the right place. Yep, this is it.
Opening the door, I step into a nondescript lobby area. Seated behind the one desk is an older man with a small sign in front of him that has “Cedar Creek Thunder” written on it. He gives me a smile.
“Are you here for the interview?”
I nod and smile back. “Yes. With Mr. Calloway?”
“Wonderful. I’m Gabe, his assistant. Let me take you back.”
