Lexington and 42nd (The Off Field Series #1) Read online

  Copyright © 2016 by Kim Carmody

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in Melbourne, Australia

  First printing, 2016

  ISBN 978-0-9945189-2-7

  Kim Carmody

  Melbourne, Australia

  www.kimcarmodybooks.com

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  EPILOGUE

  THANK YOU!

  COMING SOON…

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  PROLOGUE

  Even standing at five foot nine plus my three-inch heels, Steve Hateley still towered over me. Anyone would think he was a footballer rather than a reporter.

  “C’mon Emma, just a ten-minute interview. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “No way. You’ll be lucky if I give you access to the team for the rest of the year after the stunt you pulled last week.” I raised an eyebrow, daring him to challenge me.

  “Don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Not that bad? You insinuated that the vice-captain of the Sydney Football Club was cheating on his wife!”

  Steve shrugged. “So? I’m an investigative journalist, it’s my job.”

  “Yeah? Well it’s my job to look after the welfare of this team and right now that means not giving you access to any of them.” I swallowed, forcing myself not to break eye contact. Steve Hateley was one of the more well-respected sports journalists in Sydney and someone I couldn’t afford to have offside—which made my current predicament all the harder given that there was no way I would give him what he wanted. Especially when his accusation was right.

  “You know this story isn’t going away, Emma. Watts would be much better off making a statement now and clearing the air.”

  “Ha! And you think he’ll give the story to you? The only thing you’re likely to get from him in the near future is a black eye.”

  Steve shrugged. “I can take it.”

  And he probably could—the guy was built like a tank.

  I sighed. “Look, we both know you’re not getting near Watts tonight. He’s not doing any one-on-one media.”

  Watts chose that moment to appear, practically bumping into us on his way back from the bathroom. Seeing Hateley, his jawline hardened and his body went rigid.

  “Watts, just the guy I was looking for. You wouldn’t be able to spare a minute to clarify a few things, would you?” Hateley asked.

  Watts stuck his middle finger up. “Clarify this, you fuck head.”

  Steve held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to do my job.”

  “Yeah, well your job’s got me in a lot of shit right now.”

  I didn’t have the heart to point out to Watts that he’d managed to do that all on his own.

  “So are you still sleeping with her?”

  Oh Jesus.

  “What the fuck did you just say to me, you piece of shit?”

  “Enough! Enough, enough, enough.” I squished myself between the two men who were nose to nose and pushed on Watts’ chest with both hands. Grabbing his arm, I lead him to the semi-privacy of the hall that lead to the back exit. “Cool your jets buddy, you’re not helping your situation any.”

  “Emma, did you hear what he just said?”

  “Yes, I did, but he’s right…he’s just doing his job.” I sighed. “Look, you have to be smarter when you’re out in public. I’d rather you didn’t get into any mischief at all but if you have to, do it behind closed doors.”

  “Why do people even care what I do off the field. I wish they’d just leave me alone.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Watts had a big ego and he loved the off-field attention, particularly of the female variety. He just didn’t like it when all that female attention caught up with him.

  “Look, why don’t you get out of here now, go home.”

  “Seriously?” Watts’ face lit up.

  I nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be easier for me to handle Hateley without you here. But you have to go home. No going out on the town tonight.”

  Watts winked, planting a kiss on my cheek. “You got it. And thanks, Em. I owe you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll hold you to that.”

  Watching him turn and walk towards the back exit, I took a deep breath. Now to finish dealing with Hateley.

  He was still waiting where I’d left him, leaning against the bar table looking altogether pleased with himself.

  “I’m not dropping this one, Emma. It’s like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  “I thought you were better than that. It’s not like you to go for the low hanging fruit.”

  Steve laughed. “Nice try, but we both know people love this shit. It sells newspapers.”

  I pursed my lips together, none too pleased with what I was about to offer up. “What if I can get you an exclusive sit-down with Mitchell the week of his 300th?”

  Steve squinted at me. “You haven’t lined up any of the networks for it?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. They’ve just got a press conference. You know Mitchell…he’s too focused on the game to spend his whole week on the media circuit.”

  “What, and you want me to leave Watts alone in return?”

  “You bet I do.”

  Steve nodded slowly, mulling over my peace offering. “Okay, lock it in. But I want an hour…none of this fifteen minutes bullshit.”

  “Fine, done.” I let out a breath, shaking Steve’s outstretched hand. I swear if the guys could just keep it in their pants, my job would be a whole lot easier.

  I sagged against the wall as he walked away, relieved to have dodged that bullet—for the meantime anyway. Putting the media and a bunch of footballers in one room was a difficult yet necessary task.

  “Nice save.”

  I turned to find my boss Jim standing behind me. “You heard all that?”

  He nodded, gesturing to a nearby lounge area that was unoccupied. “You handled it well.”

  “Thanks.” I shrugged. “It’s only because I’ve had so much experience handling their crap. If the players were better behaved, it would save us all some time.”

  Jim nodded in agreement, hesitating before continuing on. “Emma, you know how much I value your contribution to the team,” he paused, taking a breath. “You’re a hard worker and I know how determined you are to build a solid career in this industry.”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything, slightly baffled at the unusual compliment. Jim normally showed his appreciation for a job well done by giving you a heavier work load. On the other hand if you’d done something he wasn’t happy with,
then you’d hear about it. He wasn’t one to use many words but when he did, he made sure his message got through loud and clear.

  “I’ll get straight to the point. We’ve had an opportunity come up and I think you might be just the person for it. You know the work the executive team has been putting in to setting up a relationship with the Warriors?”

  Curious now, I nodded. It had been the top priority on the CEO’s agenda for the past two years, ever since some fraudulent executive activity had left them with some serious cash-flow problems. Ultimately we would have a close working relationship with one of the biggest powerhouse sporting teams of the world, the New York Warriors. It would mean access to their strategies, commercial deals and the development of new media opportunities. Basically an extremely beneficial financial partnership for the club, which, given that we were teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, was crucial to ensuring our on-going existence.

  “Well, one of the initiatives they’ve been working on is setting up a trial exchange program. The idea is to send one of our staff members over to work for twelve months while someone on their staff of a similar background joins us. Ideally we would share best practice experience and provide a pretty impressive development opportunity for a high-performing team member.” Jim looked around the room before going on. “Mike approached me a few weeks ago about the opportunity and the first person that came to mind was you.”

  My jaw dropped open. “Seriously?”

  Jim nodded, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “You would need to be there for the NFL draft at the start of May.”

  Huh. Well, that was unexpected. I rolled his words around in my mind, trying to absorb their meaning.

  Me.

  In New York.

  For twelve months.

  The thought was overwhelming.

  My immediate instinct was to say no. Not possible. I couldn’t just up and leave for a year. What about my family, my friends, the club?

  Jim’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Take the weekend to think about it and give me an answer on Monday.” He stood to go, turning to look down at me. “I’ve put my ass on the line recommending you. Mike wanted to offer it to someone from the footy department, but I fought him on it.” The ice in his whiskey glass rattled as he pointed his pudgy finger at me. “Don’t fuck this up, Lexington. Otherwise we’re all out of a job.”

  See what I mean? Loud and clear.

  Four weeks later…

  CHAPTER ONE

  I sat in the bustling deli in midtown New York, having lunch with my four new colleagues, James, Carrie, Dana and my boss Mark—it was impossible to keep up with their conversation, when all I could think was am I really in New York for the next twelve month? It was staggering to think that in just four short weeks I’d literally flipped my whole life upside down and now here I was in the middle of the city that never sleeps. And having been here for almost a week, I could vouch first hand that New York City was, in fact, just that.

  My new housemate Julia had been a wonderful tour guide, leaving me with lists of places to explore each morning and taking me out for dinner and drinks every night. I was beginning to realize how perfectly my living situation had turned out, which had been one of the easier problems to solve in my rush to get here. I was simply doing a house and job swap with Sarah, who at this moment was on her way to Australia to take over my role with the Sydney Football Club and my unit in Rose Bay.

  The apartment I was calling home for the next twelve months was on the fifth floor of a walk-up, and while small, was beautifully decorated—one of the perks of living with an interior designer.

  I had enjoyed my first few days in New York so much that I hadn’t had a chance to even think about the fact that the whole reason I was here was to start a new job. My biggest concern was that I knew nothing about the NFL. Like literally nothing. I couldn’t tell you how many players there were on a team, how long the game went or how the scoring system worked. It had been my intention to study up during my settling-in time, but clearly that hadn’t happened so it looked like I would be winging it for a little while.

  “Emma should come to the draft party.” I turned to my new colleague, James, drawn from my daydream by the sound of my name.

  Mark nodded, looking at me. “Definitely. Keep Wednesday night free. It’ll be a good chance for you to meet everyone.”

  Dana, one of the two other girls on the team spoke up. “It’s a good party actually. The first big one since the Super Bowl, so it’s like a mini-reunion of the who’s who in the NFL.”

  “Did you end up getting Jensen for the night?” James asked.

  Mark nodded, finishing his mouthful of bagel. “Yeah, there’s an interview locked in, and it should be good.” He lifted his chin toward me. “You should definitely meet him, Emma. He’s easily the one you’ll spend the most time with, and our sponsors love him.”

  James laughed. “Oh, I’m sure Jensen will be more than happy to spend time with Emma.”

  Mark shot James a look I couldn’t quite read. “Not necessary.”

  “Sorry boss.” James looked down at his bagel, but I didn’t miss the subtle twitch of his lips.

  I frowned, unsure of what he meant but not game to ask.

  #

  I walked back from lunch with Dana and Carrie, two bubbly twenty-something’s I could already tell I’d get along famously with. “So what’s the deal with Wednesday night? Do I need to pull out my ball gown?”

  Carrie frowned. “It’s not too formal, maybe cocktail I guess? Most men will go straight from work, but I’ll be popping home to get changed. I’d go with something in between corporate and Friday night drinks.” She nodded to herself, seeming satisfied with her summation of the dress code.

  “That sounds manageable,” I said, mentally cataloguing all of the dresses I’d packed.

  Dana smiled, twisting to glance at me as we walked. “Don’t worry, whatever you wear will be fine. Besides, for every woman dressed like us, there’ll be one with a lot more skin on display. These events tend to attract plenty of women looking to snag a pro.”

  “Speaking of footballers, what was with the comment at lunch about Jensen being happy to work closely with me? Was that a little weird?” I glanced at each of them, hoping I sounded like I had some clue who this Jensen guy was.

  Carrie shook her head. “No, don’t sweat it. You’ll understand when you meet him. Women love Jensen and Jensen loves them right back, and he tends to go for leggy brunettes,” she said, nodding in my direction. “Don’t worry, he’s harmless and actually a really nice guy. It’s just that when you’re the starting quarterback of the New York Warriors and you look like he does, you’re never really short on offers.”

  Quarterback, finally a football reference I recognized.

  I nodded, knowing exactly the type from back home. “Got it, steer clear of the hot quarterback.”

  Dana paused as we stepped off the lift, catching my arm. “Yes, definitely steer clear. Every so often we have a pretty, young intern start and they don’t last too long once people figure out they’re more interested in dating the players than doing their job.” She shrugged. “It’s not technically against club policy, but they definitely frown on staff and players hooking up.”

  Carrie laughed. “Jesus Dana, don’t scare the girl on her first day.”

  Dana shrugged. “If it was me, I’d want to know.”

  Halfway through day one and I had already learned two critical pieces of information. First, the quarterback’s name was Jensen and I would be spending plenty of time with him this year. And second, under no circumstances was I to fall for his charms.

  I smiled, feeling good about day one. I mean really, how hard could it be?

  CHAPTER TWO

  By the night of the draft party, I felt like I was starting to get my head around the whole NFL thing. Aside from getting set up in the office, I had spent a lot of time following Mark and the team around to meetings, being introduced to clie
nts and various people I’d need to work with over the next year and brought up to speed on each account. I had consumed a lot of information in very little time and was ready for some fun.

  The party was in the Meat Packing District, not far from my apartment, and I had arranged to meet Carrie and Dana at a restaurant nearby for a quick bite before heading in. Not content with what I had brought with me, I was wearing a great little dress I’d found at Saks, a deep orange and black print that contrasted nicely with my green eyes. It was figure hugging to the knee, sleeveless, with a straight-cut neckline that ran across the middle of my collarbone. It was corporate and flattering at the same time, and the peep hole at the back fulfilled the Friday-night-drinks component of the dress code nicely. I was wearing my hair down and straight so that it hung just below my shoulders.

  We arrived around eight and the bar was already fairly packed. Carrie had been spot on, plenty of suits, a few players—obvious to spot due to their much larger frames—and an ample number of women wearing anything from corporate attire to mini dresses that barely covered their butts. Thankfully, I fit somewhere between the two extremes.

  I was determined to make a good impression tonight, to start off on the right foot with the many people I was meeting for the first time. It was exhausting, all the introductions and explanations of what I was doing with the Warriors while at the same time trying to remember names and how everyone fit in. I needed a breather and was at the bar checking the time on my phone when a deep voice startled me.

  “You look like you’re figuring out how much longer you’ll have to stick around.” Looking up, my eyes landed on a rather pronounced Adams apple.

  A tall man then.

  I let my gaze take in his broad shoulders, covered in a crisp white shirt that revealed a smattering of chest hair on smooth bronzed skin. Following the path of his neck upward, my eyes tripped across the day-old stubble that did nothing to hide the strong jawline underneath, and when I finally met his stare, I realized how overtly I’d been drinking in the sight of him.

  Or to put it bluntly, ogling him.

  I watched in mortification as his lip curled into a half-smile and he raised an eyebrow in amusement, clearly aware of the effect he was having on me. Maybe it was the intensity of his stare, but for some reason I felt like his smile was for me and me alone, a secret shared between us in the middle of the packed bar.