Page 77 of Caught Up In You (Indigo Royal Resort)
When they finally reached Southland Holdings, Cullen wasn’t in the least bit surprised to find the building to be opulent as well. While the outside was modest looking, with a plain, but clean, red brick exterior, the lobby alone sparkled and shined as if it had been waxed and polished to within an inch of its life. The marble tile floor and rich mahogany wood on the walls and furniture screamed old money, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place. For everything he was worth now, he still wasn’t fully comfortable in places that showed off wealth so exuberantly.
“Mr. Cruz, welcome. We are ecstatic to have you here,” a dark-haired, slender man in a custom suit greeted them as they walked inside and escorted them to the elevator. “I’m Jonah Davenport, Mr. Sutherland’s right hand. If you need anything, please just let me know.”
Cullen saw Felicity roll her eyes out of the corner of his eye, and part of him wondered what that was about. They both seemed arrogant enough to push anyone’s buttons, especially each other's. There was obviously some saga there, but he’d had enough of his own drama today and didn’t have the patience for their little cat fight. He was here about a job, and fuck if that wasn’t where he was going to keep his focus.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened into a large open area with more plush leather couches and a single, albeit large, desk where an older woman sat typing away furiously at her keyboard. She glanced up briefly, taking in the group over the rim of her glasses, but her fingers never stopped moving.
“Head on in, he’s expecting you,” she said, turning her focus back to her work.
They walked past her, through a set of French doors, and entered an even larger space that might have screamed “old money” even louder than the lobby, if that was possible. The dark purple carpet was host to more mahogany furniture, all of which was just as spotless as everything else. The cleaning staff must never stop, Cullen thought as he took it all in.
“Mr. Cruz! Welcome to Atlanta!” a booming voice, with a deep southern accent, greeted him. He turned to his right to find a tall, burly man standing up from a long conference table. He was older than Cullen by quite a bit, and had gotten a little soft around the middle, but Cullen could tell that in his younger years, this man had been quite the physical force to reckon with. Although, based on the way the older gentleman carried himself, it seemed that the money and power he’d amassed over the years still afforded him plenty of influence. “I’m Dalton Sutherland, Jr. It’s nice to finally meet you. Please sit.”
“Dalton Sutherland…” Cullen wondered out loud as he sat down at the table with the others. “I could have sworn I just met someone with that name.”
The older man laughed. “You must have met Tripp while you were at the Indigo Royal. He’s been working down there the last couple of years.”
“Tripp?”
“My son, Dalton Royce Sutherland the third, or triple, which got shortened to Tripp when he was a kid.”
“I had no idea that he was connected to this company and team,” Cullen said.
“He tends to not mention it to people. But enough about him. Congratulations on being the first coach of the Atlanta Rising Football Club!”
“So you are calling it football? Not soccer? I am pleased to hear that.”
“Well, the sport as a whole will undoubtedly still be referred to as soccer. But we felt it was more authentic to refer to the team as a ‘football club.’ Try and align ourselves with the global sport, despite what it’s referred to locally.”
“You Americans can’t be right about everything,” Cullen commented.
“Touché,” the older man laughed. His accent was strong, and it dripped off his every word, unlike his son’s more subtle drawl or his daughter’s outright attempt to disguise it. “This meeting was mostly so you and I could have some facetime before the press conference tomorrow. We don’t have to go into any of the boring particulars right now, unless there are any specific questions you have for me and my team.”
A slew of questions ran through Cullen’s mind in this moment as he realized just how little he knew about this team and who was running it. He’d been so focused on getting in all the time he could with Leona these last couple of days that he had only skimmed the information that Oliver sent over. His mind wandered for a moment to her, wondering what she was doing right now. Was she holed up some place with Drea, heartbroken and miserable, or were they out having a drink to celebrate that she’d been able to bed a superstar? He blinked rapidly, trying to rein in his thoughts and focus back on the man to his right.
“Who exactly is running the team from an organizational perspective? You?”
“No, no. I’m just the money. My son will act as President, and we have brought on American Hall of Famer Britt Callahan as Technical Director. He’s actually the one who brought your name up when your retirement was announced.”
Cullen let a small smile spread across his face at the sound of Britt Callahan’s name. They had referred to the American as ‘Cowboy’ during his three seasons as a defender at Liverpool. Thankfully he’d taken it in stride and learned to embrace the nickname. But for all the heckling they’d given the kid for showing up in England and using the term soccer, the kid could play. It suddenly made a little more sense how a brand-new team in America had gotten it in their heads to hire a former player with no coaching experience. Callahan had been one of the rookies that Cullen had taken under his wing when he first showed up.
“He’s a good guy. Knows talent when he sees it, and should be a good asset for recruiting,” Cullen said.
“We’re hoping so,” Jonah said, inserting himself into the conversation. “We believe you and he will make a great team.”
“He’s already in talks with a couple of very promising young players,” Felicity threw out there, sitting up straighter in her seat. She was not going to be outdone by Jonah.
The mention of “promising young players” sent Cullen’s mind racing to one very specific player. Those were almost the exact words he’d used when talking about Josef to pretty much anyone in the football world who would listen these last couple of weeks. The kid was something else, especially considering his size and age. In some ways, Josef actually reminded him of Callahan, with some of his cheeky fakes and the way he ran. If Josef just had someone to take the time to invest in him, Cullen had no doubt that he’d be one of the kids a team like this would be looking into.
A rustling of plastic derailed his thoughts of Josef, and he turned to see a short, dark-skinned, heavy-set woman emptying the trash can that was under the large desk on the other side of the room. She must have felt his gaze on her, because she suddenly stopped moving, freezing as she tied off the full bag of trash. An embarrassed look crossed her face as she finally snapped back into action, hunching her shoulders as if she could somehow make herself invisible. Cullen knew the look well—he’d seen his mother make it a number of times when she had accidentally disturbed w
homever had been home when she was cleaning. It made him think of Leona—how she took amazing pride in her job and how defensive she’d gotten ten years ago when he tried to make it seem like she was less.
His mind jumped back to that moment. To just how shitty he felt handing her that cash, knowing that he was doing exactly what he had sworn he would never do after the way he’d seen his mum treated. To the feel of her hand making contact with his face, and how he knew he deserved it. It was something he’d always admired about her, that she knew herself and knew her own value. It was part of why she kept her walls up so high—because she wasn’t going to allow anyone who didn’t see that value to see anything else about her either. So why had she acted this morning as if she wasn’t proud of herself and her accomplishments? Why had she been so quick to dismiss what they had? That wasn’t the woman he’d fallen for. It was almost like someone had told her…
“Mr. Cruz, pay her no mind,” Felicity said, interrupting his thought process. “She's just the cleaning lady.”
Her words made something snap inside Cullen. Just the cleaning lady. Was that really what she thought about the people who kept this place up to the obviously very high standards which her family had set? Had that been what she said to Leona?
