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It took me hours to get to sleep last night even though the time difference from the UK to New York should have meant I was exhausted by ten in the evening. Instead I lay in bed feeling a massive rush flowing through my body. I couldn’t believe how I’d spoken to Jaxon, but it had given me a huge jolt of adrenaline, and I felt more awake than I did after an extra large coffee.

When I thought back on the conversation it felt like a dream. Had I really let him pull off my sweatshirt and then jiggled my boobs in front of him? Not just that, I’d told him in no uncertain terms that nothing would be happening between us. I’d been trying to convince myself more than him, but he did take me seriously; I could see it in his eyes. He would keep acting like a cocky, arrogant jerk, but he now thought his chances were slim so he might back off a bit.

Letting him remove my sweater had been a huge risk. As he’d taken it off his fingertips had grazed my skin, and for a second I’d been unable to breathe, the air caught in my lungs. If he’d reached out and pressed a hand against my breast, or kissed my neck like he talked about doing, then I would of been helpless to resist. I was already half undressed, and my thin yoga pants could barely hide the dampness appearing between my thighs. He didn’t touch me though, so for better or worse I spent the night alone in my bed.

After finally falling asleep, I ended up dreaming of Jaxon, or more specifically his cock. If there was one advantage to him sleeping around with a lot of women it at least meant he would know what he was doing. In my dream, he practically threw me around the bed as he whipped me from one position to another, including ones I had never been in before.

With my previous boyfriends, we’d gone through the motions: me on top, him on top, and some gentle doggystyle. Jaxon didn’t know the meaning of the word gentle. In my dreams, he would pound me aggressively, and I’d come when he took me up against my bedroom wall. Judging by the wetness between my legs when I work up, the orgasm hadn’t been entirely in my imagination.

At least being half-naked stopped Jaxon asking me more questions about college. It had been bad enough having to lie about the “F” on my transcript in interviews. I’d convinced everyone that I failed my courses on The Modern Middle East because of a family issue that distracted me from my studies, but that excuse wouldn’t work on Jaxon. He’d want to know what really happened, and there was no way in hell I was telling him that.

Sam wouldn’t give me the day off of work to recover from the flight, but now Jaxon was in the house I was thankful for an excuse to get up and leave early. The jet lag had thrown me off anyway, so even though I hadn’t slept much, I was still awake at six in the morning.  

I drove to the train station, and then took the subway into the city. The weather app on my phone told me that today would hit a high of seventy-five degrees, but it failed to mention that the humidity was ninety percent in the morning. The train quickly filled up as it approached the city, and by the time I got off I felt faint from the intense heat and the claustrophobia of being surrounded by so many people. I could handle crowds and I could handle heat—just about—but the two combined left me a sticky, panicky mess.

The office was air-conditioned, but my cubicle happened to be the furthest from any of the vents in the ceiling, so the temperature was always a few degrees warmer than I liked it. I sat down and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to pretend that the office was empty and no one could see my shirt stuck to my back. I looked gross and felt even worse.

How was it everyone else arrived at work looking like they'd been dropped off by an air-conditioned limo just outside the office? Did no one else get hot and sweaty on the subway? I didn’t see anyone else look half as hot as me, and no one else’s shirt seemed to be clinging to their back.

“Jenny,” Sam said, appearing suddenly behind me. It’s not like I had a door for him to knock on, but it would’ve been nice if he let me know he was arriving so as not to scare the shit out of me. “Glad you’re here at last.”

At last?
I’d arrived at the office just after eight o’clock, and my official start time wasn’t until nine. Apparently arriving after him made me late regardless of the time.

“Hi Sam,” I replied, doing my best to sound cheery and enthusiastic. “Sorry about what happened with Jaxon.”

“What do you mean ‘sorry?’ Sounds like it all went according to plan. His agent is down in reception ready to start talking terms.”

“Oh, yes of course. I just meant sorry I wasn’t able to get all the details sorted out while I was in England.”

“Plenty of time for all that,” Sam said. “Follow me.”

I stood up and tried to subtly peel my shirt off my back before I walked past everyone else on the way down to Sam’s office. I stopped by his door, but he kept on walking until we got to the corner office recently vacated by the vice president of marketing. Sam opened the door and motioned for me to walk inside.

I walked in and breathed a sigh of relief as a cold wall of air hit me. This office had its own air-conditioning vent, and with the door having been shut the office was freezing cold. In a couple of minutes I’d want to put on a sweater, but right now this was my idea of heaven.  

The office was empty except for a few books the vice president had left behind on the bookshelf. He had one of the best offices on this floor which had never made much sense to me. Sam outranked him and had a much smaller office. It was something to do with Sam being a transfer from the parent company whereas the former vice president of marketing actually worked for New York United. I hated office politics.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Sam said. “This is your new office.”

“It’s my new office?” I parroted back to him.

“I assume you prefer this to the cubicle?”

“I don’t understand. Why are you giving me this office? I thought I was going to stay in the cubicle.”

“You deserve an office,” Sam explained. “I’d have given you one straight away, but we didn’t have the space.”

“But why this one? It’s one of the biggest on this floor.”

“You need a big impressive office to negotiate the contract with Jaxon’s agent. You’re going to be the lead on this one.”

I should have just nodded and kept my mouth shut at this point. I knew plenty of people from Harvard who went straight into jobs with a lot of responsibility, and for the most part they lapped it up. Admittedly that had more to do with the large egos of my fellow Harvard grads, who tended to think they could do any job in the world regardless of how little training they’d had. I, on the other hand, tended to shy away from responsibility I wasn’t ready for. Given my lack of experience, my responsibility here shouldn’t extend to much more than making the coffee and the occasional bouts of photocopying.

“I’m not ready to be a lead on such a big contract,” I said honestly. “I’d love to work on it,” I lied, “but I need someone to oversee everything.”

Sam smiled. “I’ll be the first to admit that you only got a foot in the door here because of a recommendation from Carrie, but I do love your attitude. Don’t worry, you won’t actually be the lead, but we need it to appear that way. Jaxon has agreed to speak to the club about a transfer, but only on the condition that everything goes through you.”

At that point, Sam stepped aside as three men walked into the office carrying computer equipment and books. They quickly set about making the office ready for me and making it look like I’d been here for months. Someone even brought in a trashcan with screwed up bits of paper in it. Say what you want about New York United, but they paid attention to the details when it mattered.

“Jaxon’s agent will be up in a minute,” Sam continued. “Just listen to what she has to say but don’t commit to anything. Her demands are going to be outrageous at this point anyway. We just want to get the conversation started.”

Sam left me open-mouthed in my new office. I logged into my new computer and immediately found emails from in-house lawyers introducing themselves and letting me know they would be available when I needed them. When would I need them? I knew so little about what I was doing that I didn’t know what I didn’t know. This was going to be a disaster.  

I had just about stopped sweating when a young blonde woman in a power suit walked into my office without even bothering to knock.

“Jennifer? I’m Daisy.”

She thrust out her hand and squeezed mine in an aggressive handshake. She was so desperate to mark her territory that she might as well have just hitched up her skirt and peed around my desk.

“Thank you for coming,” I said slowly. Daisy didn’t look like the type for smalltalk, but I needed to keep her occupied while I figured out what the hell I should be doing.

“Let’s cut the crap shall we?” Daisy said. I recognized her accent; it was similar to that of the receptionist from the hotel in Liverpool. The receptionist had to repeat everything three times before I’d understood what she was saying, but Daisy spoke slightly slower so with any luck I’d be able to understand her.  

“Cut away,” I replied. It was supposed to be a joke, but Daisy didn’t laugh or smile.

“This transfer isn’t happening,” Daisy said. “Liverpool United only accepted the bid because it wants to pretend Jaxon isn’t an important part of the team. That’s utter shite of course, but he has contract negotiations coming up and the club wants to screw him on the salary. We’re here to make it look like Jaxon is prepared to leave. But don’t kid yourself—this is just part of some bigger game and you people are just the pawns.”

“Understood,” I said. Don’t get used to the big office, Jenny. You’ll be back in your cubicle within the week. “Did you enjoy your flight?” I asked, to break the silence that had fallen between us.

Daisy huffed. “The flight was fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” I expected her to stand up and leave the office, but instead she pulled her phone out of her bag and started replying to emails. She needed this to look like a real negotiation otherwise word might get back to Jaxon’s club in England that this wasn’t serious.

“Why don’t we talk numbers?” I asked. God help me if she asks me to make the first move on that front.

“I told you, this is not a real thing. There’s no point in talking numbers.”

“Isn’t it a good idea to get something official in writing from us that you can show to Liverpool United? I don’t want this deal to happen any more than you do.” Daisy frowned; I had her attention. “Let’s get this to the stage where we have a draft contract prepared and then you can use that as leverage back home. How does that sound?”

Daisy murmured her assent. “You’re not as… inexperienced as you look.”

“Jenny hasn’t been called inexperienced for many years,” Jaxon said, appearing in my doorway. I really wished people would stop sneaking up on me today.

Jaxon stood there in a soccer jersey and shorts. He’d obviously come straight from a training session, because he still had the socks on as well. At least he’d changed out of his cleats. Looking at his muscular calfs and quads, I could see why some of my friends had taken an interest in soccer despite not being the sporty types.

“So then,” Jaxon said with a grin. “What are we discussing?”

“What are you doing here?” Daisy asked. “I told you I’d handle this.”

I walked inside and closed the door. A more subservient agent than Daisy might have offered me the chair, but one of the reasons I liked having her as an agent was that she thought she was equally as important as me in the relationship. Frankly, that made her a complete bitch at times, but I had enough people kissing my ass already.  

Daisy had proven herself a good agent over the years, and had overseen my rise from a third tier club to one competing in the top half of the Premier league. That was in no small part due to my talents on the pitch, but to give Daisy her due, she had worked hard for me and set me up with some good clubs.

I pulled a spare chair over from the corner of the room and sat next to Daisy, putting my feet up on Jenny’s desk. Jenny glared at my sneakers, but she didn’t say anything.

“And I told you, I wanted to be a part of all the discussions,” I explained. “If we’re going to use this opportunity to get a better deal from Liverpool United then we need to handle this delicately.”