Page 72 of The Game Changer
And I guess I am, too. So much for our concern about their reaction.
With a rueful grin, I say, “Well, alright then. Isla and I are dating. End of conversation unless anyone has a question.”
Cal’s hand shoots up. “Why’d you think you had to keep it a secret? We like you, we like Isla, and we’re all adults. You two dating is no big deal.”
The other guys all nod in agreement.
Isla steps forward to answer. “That was my decision. I didn’t want to complicate anything, and dating the boss isn’t always well received.” She grins back at me. “Obviously, I was worried about nothing.”
“Does this mean you’re going to head up the marketing department permanently?” someone asks.
It’s subtle, but I notice Isla’s wince. She’s still resisting me when I try to convince her to accept a permanent role here. I understand why, even if I don’t like it.
“I’m not sure yet,” she hedges.
“You better,” Griff calls out. “We need you to make us look good.”
“How about you win some games and make yourselves look good?” Isla fires back, and the guys all laugh. “Speaking of looking good, it’s photo shoot time, boys.”
34
ISLA
“Stop being a baby,Cal, it’s just a bird!”
I bite my lip to stop from laughing as I watch Juniper glare impatiently at Cal, who’s staring in horror at the large, yet remarkably calm, owl perched on the gloved hand of a volunteer from the wildlife rescue.
“Easy for you to say, June Bug,” he mutters. “If that thing takes my eye out, I’ll never forgive you.”
I turn away as I hear someone call my name, still laughing to myself. Who would’ve guessed Cal “Pretty Boy” Prescott was afraid of owls.
Brady Dixon, Griff, Foxxy, and a couple of the other players are gathered in a close circle. At least these guys don’t look scared.
“We need you to decide who gets which animal,” Griff announces when I walk up.
Placing my hands on my hips, I arch a brow at them. “Are you seriously saying that as grown men, you can’t come to an agreement?”
They look back and forth amongst themselves, butno one says anything until Brady steps forward. I don’t know the quiet newcomer all that well, but he seems like a good-natured and polite guy.
“The problem is, we all want the otters.” He gives me a wry grin. “They’re babies.”
“Fucking adorable babies,” Rowdy, one of the outfielders, pipes up.
“But you said we all had to have different animals,” Griff adds. “So only one of us gets the otters. I said Foxxy should go with the fox, because, well, duh.”
Foxxy narrows his gaze at his best friend. “Yeah? Well then, you should go with the raccoon since you’re both fucking snack bandits.”
The group erupts into a debate over who gets which animal, and all I can do is shake my head in disbelief for a couple of minutes as I come up with a plan on the fly.
Grown-ass men arguing over otters. They are pretty cute, I have to admit, but this is ridiculous.
“Okay, enough!” I clap my hands to get their attention. “Here’s how it’s gonna go. Foxxy, yes, you’re with the pair of foxes in the dugout. The marketing potential for that is endless. Rowdy, you get the squirrels, be as silly with them as you want. They’re inside, in the locker room. Griff, go and see Juniper, she’s got a hawk that needs someone who can be calm. And” —I look at the remaining three players—“Brady is with the otters. Lucky, go put on some eye black, you’re with the raccoon, also in the locker room, and Hiro…” I fix him with a hopeful look. “How do you feel about eagles?”
He shrugs. “Fine, as long as it doesn’t bite my head off.”
“Great. Go with Griff to find Juniper, she’s with the birds of prey.”
Hiro and Griff head off to find my best friend and Cal, and I turn to the others. “Well, you know your assignments, get going.”
