Page 51 of Pucking My Bad Boy Boss
I feel a flare of frustration, but before I can speak, Dom interjects. “With all due respect, Mr. and Mrs. Carrington, I think you’re underestimating the impact of Isabella’s work. She’s not just managing teams; she’s shaping lives, building communities, inspiring countless young people.”
His voice is firm, his conviction clear. I’m taken aback by the intensity of his defense, a warmth spreading through me at his unwavering support.
“Her strategic acumen, her leadership—they’re unparalleled. Isabella’s contributions to the sports world are significant, and they extend far beyond the rink. She’s a trailblazer, breaking barriers in a male-dominated field.”
My parents exchange glances, a mix of surprise and reconsideration in their eyes. It’s clear they’ve never seen my career through this lens before.
My mother, seemingly caught off guard by Dom’s passionate advocacy, softens her tone. “We simply want what’s best for you, Isabella. We’ve always believed in your brilliance, your capability to achieve great things.”
I nod, appreciative of their concern, even if misguided. “I understand, Mom, Dad. But this is my passion, my choice. I love what I do, and I’m good at it.”
Dom squeezes my hand under the table, a silent show of solidarity. “Isabella’s already achieved greatness,” he says. “And she’s only just begun. Her impact on the sports world will be remembered for generations.”
The appetizers arrive, breaking the tension that had subtly woven itself into our conversation. My parents, though still holding on to their traditional views, seem to be contemplating Dom's words. It's a small victory, but a significant one considering their usual unwavering stances.
My father, ever the pragmatist, makes a half-joking remark, "Well, Isabella, there's always law school if you change your mind." He gives me a small, teasing smile, a rare glimpse of his softer side.
I chuckle, shaking my head. "I think I'll stick to sports, Dad. But I'll keep it in mind."
As we delve into the starters, I find myself stealing glances at Dom. His defense of me and my career choice, his passionate advocacy in the face of my parents' skepticism, has sparked a new kind of admiration in me. It's a warmth that goes beyond professional respect, touching something deeper, more personal.
I observe him as he interacts with my parents, effortlessly charming yet forthright, a combination that seems to gradually wear down their defenses. There’s a genuineness to his demeanor that’s hard to resist, even for my usually stoic parents.
The conversation shifts to lighter topics, and the atmosphere at the table becomes more relaxed. My parents share stories from their careers, and Dom reciprocates with anecdotes from his days on the ice and his transition into management. I find myself laughing more freely, the earlier tension dissipating like morning fog.
Who is this Dom? And why the hell is he making me feel ways Ineverthought I’d feel about a man?
24
Dom
Aswewalkthroughthe cool Seattle streets, I notice Isabella’s uncharacteristic silence. The usually sharp and spirited woman beside me seems lost in thought, a stark contrast to her usual demeanor.
I can’t resist the opportunity to tease her. "What’s the matter, Isabella? Embarrassed I made best buds with your old man at dinner?" I ask with a chuckle, throwing her a cocky grin.
She glances at me, her lips curving into a small smile. "No, Dom, that's not it," she says, her voice softer than usual. "Actually, it's the opposite. I wanted to thank you... for standing up for me tonight."
Her words catch me off guard. It’s rare for Isabella to show this kind of vulnerability. "Thank me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "I was just speaking the truth."
She stops walking and turns to face me, her gaze steady. "I know, but... it's not easy with my parents. I believe in what I do, in my career. But with them, it’s always been a challenge to feel that my path is valid. To have someone like you, who not only understands but also believes in me... it means a lot. Even if this whole thing between us is just for show."
I look at her, really look at her. There’s an earnestness in her eyes that’s hard to ignore. "Isabella, you don’t need anyone to validate your choices. You’re brilliant at what you do. Anyone with half a brain can see that."
She lets out a soft laugh. "Yeah, but it's different coming from you. You've been there, you know the game, the industry. You get it in a way they never will."
I nod, understanding what she means. "Well, I've got your back, Carrington. Fake engagement or not, I respect the hell out of you. And for what it's worth, I think you’re doing an incredible job."
Her smile grows, and there’s a spark in her eyes that tells me my words have hit home. "Thanks, Dom. That means a lot, really."
We resume walking, the city lights casting a warm glow around us. The air between us feels different now, charged with an unspoken acknowledgment of the mutual respect and perhaps something more, a connection that’s been growing despite our best efforts to keep things strictly professional.
As we approach our apartment building, I stop and turn to face her. "Isabella, just remember one thing. This whole arrangement... it doesn’t define you. You’re more than capable of standing on your own two feet. And if you ever need someone to remind you of that, you know where to find me."
She looks up at me, and there’s a hint of something like appreciation in her gaze. "Thanks, Dom.”
The elevator ride up to our shared apartment is a quiet one, the soft hum of the machinery the only sound breaking the silence. Standing beside Isabella, I can't help but steal glances at her from the corner of my eye. There’s something about her tonight, maybe it's the way the soft light of the elevator accentuates the contours of her face or the thoughtful look in her eyes, but she looks stunningly beautiful.
I find my thoughts wandering, replaying our earlier conversation and the heartfelt words I shared at dinner. As the floors tick by, I reflect on the fact that what I said wasn’t just a front for her parents—it really was the truth. Isabella is unlike any woman I’ve ever known, her strength and determination captivating me in ways I hadn't anticipated.
