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I swear, all successful women are sassy.
“Well then.” I push back from the table. “I’ll see myself out. I have other things to do today, and this wasn’t on the list.”
“Wow, busy man,” Nila snickers, gathering up her things in her arms. “Where you headed to next?”
“I’ve got a thing with my friends—and it’s a closed event,” I add, daring her to argue with me.
But she doesn’t miss a beat. “Cool, what’s the dress code? Snappy casual? Or homeless?” She motions to my faded jeans and black Henley, paired with my old black and white Converse.
I roll my eyes and head for the door.
“She’s going with you, Cam,” Frankie calls after me.
I tense my jaw, opting for silence rather than protesting. I thought when I got this job—playing hockey for a whole lot of money—I’d be able to do what I wanted. Turns out, people weigh in now more than ever with all their stipulations, opinions, and concerns about my private life.
It’s beyond annoying.
“Can you slow down?” A sweet, sultry voice pants from behind me. “My legs are like half the length of yours.”
I glance back at Nila, scurrying behind me in her red heels. “You’re gonna have to learn how to keep up. I’m not slowing down for you. Besides, you’re my shadow, right? You should be able to handle it.”
She glares at me. “Just let me change into my Nikes.”
I chuckle, unable to hide my amusement.
Everything about this woman puts me off, but somehow, she’s too beautiful to let it ruin my day. I mean, who doesn’t want a beautiful woman hot on their heels? (Pun intended.)
Especially a fiery redhead.
I bite down on my lip as I shove the office doors open, taking in the cool March air and heading for my Lamborghini parked in one of the front spots.
I have no interest in dating anyone right now—but I am definitely attracted to the new thorn in my side. I guess I’ll just have to deal with that...
And not let it go too far.
“Okay, seriously!” Nila screeches from behind me. “Please slow down, Cameron. I can’t keep up at this pace.”
Ugh.
I slow to a snail’s pace, letting the wild-eyed woman catch up to me. Her heels click across the asphalt like a woman on a mission. “Maybe if you didn’t wear dagger heels, you’d be able to keep up.”
She finally reaches me, shooting me another glare. “They’re Louboutin, not dagger heels—and they happen to be my favorite pair.”
“Then you should be able to run a mile or two in them. I think I know where a good running track is. I can drop you off there to practice while I go about my day. Then I can pick you up later ... maybe.”
“Ha ha.” She blows out a sharp breath as I open the passenger side door for her. She slides in and then looks up at me, her eyes softening. “Can we please just stop by my hotel so I can grab some different shoes?”
I raise a brow. “Oh, so you were serious about the Nikes.” I smirk.
Her thick lips purse in a flat line. “I was dead serious. You’re not going to be able to outrun me, Cameron. I’m going to make this work, whether you like it or not.”
“They must be paying you well,” I snort, shutting the door and trotting around to the driver’s side. I climb in and try to ignore how pretty Nila looks sitting against the black leather of my sports car.
She looks lethal.
“What?” Nila snaps at me.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, starting the car and listening to the engine roar to life. There’s nothing quite like it, but as I look over, Nila is already gripping the ceiling handle, her posture screaming rigid and tense. “What’re you doing?”
