Finding Carson Lee (Oh Captan, My Captain #3) (2 page)

I walk into the large office. I didn’t realize that I was going to be meeting someone older. I notice that he has to be closer to my father’s age. I assumed I would be meeting someone younger. He stands up from his desk, buttoning his black jacket, and he runs his hand through his graying hair.

“
Mr. Underwood, I’m Kinley Wright.” I stick my hand out to him, bringing myself back to my game plan.

“
Wow, that’s some accent. I thought I’d heard it all when I moved here.” He shook my hand and points for me to sit down.

“
I didn’t realize I had an accent.” I smile at him. I could tell the moment he opened his mouth that he is from the northern states.

“
Trust me you do, but let’s get down to business.” He looks over some papers on his desk, and I pull out my copy of the contract. “You want Carson to be the spokesman for LSMP clothing line. Right?”

“
Correct. We think that Mr. Lee would fit right into our new fall line. It’s a mix between the rough and tough and relaxing everyday clothes. We’ve studied Mr. Lee, and we heard that he wasn’t happy with his current clothing sponsors, and LSMP would be a perfect fit for him.” I can’t believe I got all of that out without stammering at all.

“
Yes, well, see the reason Carson is shopping for another clothing sponsor is because he likes free stuff and the female models, and the other sponsor dropped him because he punched the photographer.” Mr. Underwood didn’t even flinch when he said that.

“
Oh,” what the hell do I say to that? “You know, that’s why I said
rough and tough
.” I give my best fake giggle to him.

“
Yes, you did.” He flips through a few more pages. “I already told Carson this was a good deal. So, he’ll make his final decision tonight. Of course, he’ll need to meet you before he says ‘yes’.”

“
Um, meet me? I mean, I know that we’ll be working close together when the shoots starts, but-”

Mr. Underwood put his hand up and stops me from talking. “This isn’t a negotiation. You can pick up tickets to the game tonight at the front gate. Carson will meet you when the game is over.” He gives me a big smile. “Have fun.”

Carson

I tilt my head to the left and then to the right, hearing the pop each time. The third period is about to start, and we’re up by three, two goals courtesy of yours truly. Our home crowd is eating up our energy. I don’t care what anyone says, our fans are the rowdiest. I think that comes from our play. We play rough and celebrate with arrogance. They love it.

Chasing a Portland Viking down the ice, I catch him against the boards, shoving him hard as I try to regain possession. He manages to keep it and push me away, slapping it towards the goalie.

Fuck. He scores.

And then another Viking scores five minutes later.

And then another.

Our goalie is a nice guy and all, but damn if I’m not ready for a new one. We have to fight extra hard to take a lead and win. I’m this close too, when one of our guys gets a penalty. That’s all the Vikings need to score with three minutes left in the period. We don’t get any good chances and lose the game. These are the games I despise. When we have a decent lead, and then we lose our shit in the third that costs us the game.

At least this is a good excuse to go get laid, as if I need one. I change, leave the guys behind, and drive to my favorite bar in my black Lamborghini. Thanks to my car and having a favorite post-game bar, I’m never hard to find. The women come to me, so I can make them come in return. I find an empty seat in the corner to survey my options. Without even asking, the bartender brings me my drink of choice, whiskey.

My eyes scan the brunettes, the redheads, the girls with black hair, those that are more than one color, and then my favorite, blondes. There seems to be one, in particular, that is watching me. Usually, they’ll glance a few times with a little smile that’s secretly begging me to walk over to them. This one, though, isn’t smiling. She almost looks unsure. I bring my glass to my lips, trying to figure her out. At least she’s a blonde. Her curls are a bit too perfect, like she’s not naturally curly.

She surprises me by standing and walking over to me. She’s curvy, not my usual size two type, but she owns it with confidence, which is a plus. As she gets closer, stopping at the empty stool next to me, I see she has green eyes.

“
Carson Lee?” Her Southern accent is clear and strong, even with only my name.

“
That’s me. Who might you be, sweetheart?” I grin.

Her eyes narrow slightly. “Kinley Wright, with LSMP. We were supposed to meet.”

Oh, great. She takes the seat next to me as I reply, “Right. Sorry, it slipped my mind. Mike tell you to meet me here?” She nods. “That’s why. He knew I would be here and wouldn’t remember one way or another.” I take a quick, deep breath. “Did you go to the game? Enjoy it?”

“
I did see the game. I especially enjoyed the third quarter when you hit that other player into the wall. Very exciting.”

Quarter? I stare at her for a second to see if she’ll catch her mistake. “You don’t know shit about hockey, do you?” I raise an eyebrow at her with a bit of annoyance, but mostly curiosity. They want me to work with this woman, and she doesn’t even know what she’s talking about?

“
Oh, well, I’m new to the sport, but I really enjoy it. I mean, I like it so much. It’s a great sport. Yep, love it.” She nods one too many times, but I’m not buying what she’s selling.

For some reason, I laugh. “No need to lie, sweetheart. And by the way, quarter usually means there’s four of ‘em.”

“
Okay, so I’m not a
huge
fan of hockey, but I did enjoy the game. Yes, it was the first full game I’d seen. Most of the hockey I see is on ESPN when I’m trying to catch up on the football stats.”

Her confession surprises me. I was expecting her to ride the “I’m a fan, so I know what I’m talking about” for a while longer. “Football, huh? Why are you trying to work in this sport, if you aren’t knowledgeable about it to start with or since you’re actually a fan of another?”

“
Alright, Mr. Lee. Let’s cut the crap, okay?” She straightens her posture as her tone turns into one that means no-bullshit-accepted. “You’ve had a long day and I have too. So, here’s the deal: no, I’m not a fan of hockey. I bleed football. However, my boss thinks that you’re a perfect fit for LSMP and I think so too. Now, are you going to sign with us, or do I need to go see if one of those Viking players want the job? I know their plane hasn’t left yet.”

I clench my jaw and glare at her before catching sight of a regular behind her, a girl I’ve slept with before. I reach into my back pocket, grab some cash from my wallet, and slap it on the bar. “How about I let you know in a day or two?” Standing, I lay a hand on her shoulder, smile and add, “In the meantime, if you rather have a Viking, go get one. Otherwise, you can wait for a bit. Nice meeting you, sweetheart.” Then I walk to the girl, grab her hand without a word, and take her home with me.

~ ~ ~

“
What are you going to do?” Mike barged into my house this morning, wanting an answer.

“
I don’t know. Don’t really like her,” I answer, fixing myself a protein shake.

“
Of course you don’t,” he mumbles.

“
She’s on the bitchy side and seems like she’d be a pain in my ass. She doesn’t even know anything about hockey.” I turn around, lean against my counter, and start drinking my shake.

“
So? She doesn’t exactly need to know everything to do her job. Look, Carson,” he puts his hands together with his fingertips under his chin, like he’s about to pray, “I think you need to do it. You need to straighten up a little. The league won’t tolerate you much longer if you keep going like you are, no matter how good you may be.”

“
You mean, how good I
am
. There’s no may about it, Mike.”

He gives me a stern look. “Call her, tell her you’ll do it, and then suck it up and deal with it. Got it?”

“
Yeah, sure.” I’m still going to make her wait until tomorrow at least.

“
Carson?” I turn my head at the sound of the girl I brought home last night. She’s in one of my t-shirts. What the fuck is wrong with her clothes? She needs to put those back on, so she can leave. Not my clothes.

Mike shakes his head. “That needs to slow down too,” he says, ignoring her. “Don’t come crying to me when you catch something.” Mike grabs his things and leaves as the girl walks over with a frown.

“
What’s for breakfast?” she questions with a sweet smile. I want to shake my head at her, but I don’t. She knows better than to ask.

“
Whatever you get when you leave. Go change. I got things to do today.”

Kinley

Two days.

It’s been two days, and I’m tired of putting off my boss. Carson Lee should have called me by now, but hasn’t yet. This is bad, and I’m probably going to be cleaning toilets if I don’t land this deal.

I’m in my cubicle thinking of how I can fix this, when an email pops up. My breath catches when I read it. It’s from Carson, and he wants to meet. I silently pray that this is a good email and not one that puts me in the unemployment line.

I gather up my stuff and hit the door to meet him.

The air is cold, and I pull my black trench coat tighter around my neck. I’m thankful for the heat in the restaurant. I notice Carson right away. He’s someone who you can’t miss.

Carson is over six feet tall, broad shoulders, and his thick dark brown hair is perfectly messy. However, it’s his eyes that could melt an ice rink. They’re a darker shade of brown that almost matches his hair. Peeking out through his pushed up sleeves, his tattoos stand out on his forearm. I had seen many photos of his full sleeve of artwork, but I couldn’t tell exactly what it was. His presence is strong in the room, and I pull all my bravery to keep up with him.

Our first meeting didn’t go well, but I’ve studied up on my hockey, and I’m ready for him this time. He isn’t going to win this, I’m going to get him to sign this contract.

“
Mr. Lee, I’m glad that you emailed me. So, have you made a decision?”

“
Almost.”

“
I don’t know what that means.” I didn’t know if his tone is good or bad. “You are or you’re not? It’s a simple question.”

“
Give me a reason. Tell me why I should do this.” He sips his drink that’s in front of him, and his facial expression is unreadable.

“
Seriously?”

He nods.

“
Fine.” I rack my brain on how I should approach this. “LSMP is the fastest growing clothing line in the past three years. It covers everything from professional, casual, kids, and everything else in between. It’s a local brand that started here in Alabama. Now, it’s moving across the United States and with your status it will help you and us make it a household name.”

“
That’s not what I meant. I know all of that already because I did my research too. I want to know why I should work with
you
, sweetheart.”

Ugh. Every time he says that pet name I want to scratch his eyes out. I can see he is only doing that on purpose. It makes my blood boil, and I don’t know if he’s going take the deal or not. What do I have to lose. “Fine, you want me to play your little bad-boy game? Well, guess again. If you want to know why you should work with me, it’s because I’m the best. So, I’m tired of your run around game. Are you in or out?”

“
I’m in,” he says bluntly.

“
Wait, really?” I don’t know if he’s joking or not.

“
Should I change my mind? I already decided what I was going to do before I got here.”

“
Then why did you do that?” my voice rises. “Are you always a jerk?”