Chapter 22: That's the Spirit

**DAWES**

I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. Letty had driven me here early as we left my car after last night's game. The entire week felt like I'd been on cloud nine. Letty was so funny, beautiful, and intelligent that I wanted to spend every waking moment together. That line of thinking should scare the hell out of me with everything that happened with my ex, but Letty is so different. When I headed into a pre-game practice, Letty said something about grabbing food, and then she would be back to wait until the game.

I had just finished practice and was heading down the hall to find her when the GM called out to me. "Dawes!"

I pause, lifting my hand in a hello gesture before turning toward the stadium.

"Hold up, Dawes!" The GM motions for me to join him. I close the distance between us as the GM asks, "How are you settling in?" 

I politely smiled at the man, trying to reel in my irritation. I just wanted to find Letty and spend the small break between practice and the game hanging out to get to know her. "This is an amazing team you have here. The staff and other players have welcomed me with open arms." 

"That is so good to hear. We were all concerned about your placement here and whether it was the right move for you. I'm glad to see it worked out in all of our favor." The GM chuckled. I could read between the lines. This guy was reminding me to color within the lines, keep playing like I had been, and my contract was safe. The contract with the Hot Shots was a crucial fresh start after my ex and her media-hungry publicist made my life a living hell. Even my move to the Olympic team hadn't saved the sinking ship my career had been. The Hot Shots extended a lifeline with my contract, and I wouldn't fuck it up.

I nodded, "Sounds like a plan, sir." 

A throat cleared, and our attention was drawn to the man beside the GM. He was of average height, with dark, stylish hair and sleazy-looking brown eyes. His designer suit seemed off, like it didn't fit him. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something about this man was off-putting and sketchy.

The GM's eyes sliced to the newcomer, and a twitch below his eye made me think this guy was irritating but necessary. "Ah yes, Grant, this is Ben Kerns. Ben, this is Grant Dawes." 

Ben stuck out his hand with a snake oil salesman smirk. I shook his hand but felt the need to sanitize mine afterward. He was definitely giving off sketchy vibes.

"It's good to meet you," he said, the smirk never leaving his face.

"Likewise," I replied without emotion. These con artists thrived on emotional people, and I've become very good at not fueling their game.

The GM patted me on the shoulder. "With you hopping on board this ship, we have an increase in revenue, and Ben is here to help with that. For the next six months, he is consulting on the community outreach programs, media presence, and marketing strategies." 

I felt a tightening in my stomach at the mention of media presence. With my history of getting screwed over by reporters, I've become overly cautious with media people. Letty was the exception, but I knew she would only write something after finding the truth first. It was the only reason I gave in and made the bet; I trusted Letty. Ben laughed emphatically, "Yes, I have a few ideas on how to capitalize on this hype for the team. You'll be a good team player, won't you, Dawes?" 

I studied this man carefully while keeping my expression neutral; his body language, tone, and words didn't match the desperation I felt rolling off him in waves. I'd been in this game professionally since I was 17, so I knew what greed and sleaziness looked and felt like. Ben would be the poster child for it. He wanted to use me to bring attention to the team, and whether that was in my best interest or not didn't matter to people like Ben. He wanted a team player meant he wanted a jock puppet to dance when he said so to increase profits. I wouldn't tie those strings back to me anytime soon, but these two men didn't need to know that. After relieving some of the pressure, I didn't want to make things difficult in front of the GM, so I shrugged, "Of course. Contrary to what people say, I'm actually very good at working with others." 

"That's the spirit, Dawes!" The GM sang, grinning from ear to ear. This man was easy to please; as long as he made money, he was happy. So that's what I would do without compromising myself. "So we will be having a few meetings coming up next week that will get us started on a timeline for keeping this boost in rev on the rise." 

Something behind me caught both men's attention. Their expressions turn into a goofy appreciation.

"That woman is a dime piece and then some." The GM mutters, his eyes not leaving whoever is behind me. I only just resisted rolling my eyes at the apparent disrespect for whoever was behind me. I hated the locker room talk like this and itched to get away before I said something that they wouldn't like.

"But she is bat-shit crazy," Ben muttered. I turned to see this mystery woman, curiosity getting the better of me. My eyes cut to meet hers, Letty. They were talking about Letty. I could feel the possessive need to pound my chest and scream out she is mine.

But she wasn't entirely mine. We only started exclusively dating last night. My claim is flimsy at best, but that didn't change the protective instinct that flooded my chest at the thought of these men objectifying the incredible woman.

Letty had changed into a Hot Shot's jersey, which was the hottest thing I've ever seen. She said she wouldn't wear my jersey, so I wondered which player's number she wore, feeling slightly jealous of the lucky, unknowing son of a gun. I wanted to smile, but this was both of our jobs, and we had yet to discuss how public we would be. Letty's eyes widened as she took in the scene, and it seemed like she would walk back the way she came. Ben let out a quiet laugh that ground on my last nerve with a sadistic tone to it before calling out," Oh! Vi, I didn't know you were here today. It's a little early for the press, isn't it?"