"What would you have me do?" I asked him, not even attempting to keep the heat from my voice. "Beatrice is practically daring me to screw this up. You're not helping me think she's wrong."
His mouth fell open. "I don't think you'll screw it up, Molly."
"Don't you? If you trusted me to do my job, you'd be able to keep all those judgey big brother thoughts in your head." I swirled my finger toward his face, currently frozen in a frown.
Logan groaned, tipping his chin up to the ceiling. "Cut me some slack, okay? It's ... it's him." He gestured helplessly back at Beatrice's office. "The last time Noah was around for any extended period—"
"I was sixteen," I whispered fiercely, my face hot. If he hadn't dropped his eyes apologetically, I would've punched him in the balls. "That's categorically unfair to assume I'd react the same way. You think I don't know how stupid it was what I did? How lucky we both were that his dad walked in when he did? I get it, okay? But you need to check your impulse to remind me of your opinion every single time something big changes in my life."
I was breathing hard, my chest heaving and my throat tight.
It was hard enough to sit next to Noah, knowing he hated me, knowing he wanted nothing to do with me, and knowing that my big shot with my boss was now partially in his grasp. What I didn't need was my big brother treating me like a teenager again.
Logan sighed heavily and pulled me in for a tight squeeze. "I'm sorry," he said into the top of my head.
I clutched my hands around his wide back and allowed myself to relax into his embrace for a moment. Logan might not have been my father, but he was better than the one I'd been born to. And for almost twelve years, he'd been the one assuming the legal role.
"I'm sorry too," I said quietly. Pulling back, I glanced at his handsome face with a shy grin. "Hazards of working together, huh?"
He laughed and slipped the hat back on his head. "I suppose."
"You're lucky you apologized," I told him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I was ready to tell Paige what happened to that picture she bought for the dining room that mysteriously shattered."
His eyes narrowed. "You promised to keep that a secret."
"Secrets have a funny way of coming out when big brothers act like overprotective bullies at work," I said innocently.
"This is Paige's influence," he mumbled. "You four weren't so savage until she showed up."
I laughed.
Logan set his hands on his hips and regarded me carefully for a few seconds. "It's hard for me sometimes, you know?"
"What is?"
"Remembering that you're a grown woman," he admitted quietly. "I was nineteen when you were born, Mol. That's not that far off from how old you are now and ..." He paused, looking a little melancholy. "My world changed when you were born. As much as I wish for you and your sisters that your mom hadn't left, selfishly, I'd never want to give you four back. But it's hard for me to forget what it felt like the day you were born. Even as you're standing here, smart and capable and independent, I think about how little you were, all wrinkled and red and wrapped in that ugly hospital blanket."
"I know, Logan. You're the best thing that could've happened to us." I glanced over my shoulder to make sure we were still alone in the hallway. "But you can't protect us forever."
He nodded slowly. "Doesn't mean I won't want to."
I gave him a smile. "I know."
"I'll bench his ass if he messes this up for you," he promised.
Again, I laughed. "No, you won't."
"No," he admitted grudgingly, "but it doesn't mean I wouldn't want to."
My hands swept down my shirt and straightened the ends. "Okay. I should get back to work."
Logan lifted his chin. "You've got this."
The change in his tone and posture, and the pure respect I saw in his eyes were enough to make my nose burn with unshed tears. "I'll be so mad at you if you make me cry."
"No crying in football, Ward," he snapped. "That's an order."
I rolled my eyes. "Go coach your team, please."
He winked and left me alone in the hallway. Before I joined Noah again, I sank against the wall to gather myself.
Noah wasn't my boss, but it was my responsibility to keep this process as painless as possible for him.
And I wasn't his boss, but he'd need to respect my role, nonetheless. Film when I said he needed to film, cooperate with the crew from Amazon, and trust that he'd be portrayed positively. And more importantly, that he'd be reflected honestly.
Those things didn't always go hand in hand, not in our industry. The best player in the world could be a raging asshole to the people around him. But as much as Noah had rubbed me the wrong way in the elevator, he was still respected by his teammates and coaches. Maybe he wasn't universally adored because of the stoic exterior, but even the iciest person thawed occasionally. And at the end of the day, it was up to me to make sure the world saw that.
Sitting in the too-small chair in my boss's office was a man who had dedicated his life to the same game I'd loved for all of mine.
They called him The Machine because the game of football—brown leather and white laces, cleats and turf and helmets and pads and sweat—was the thing he existed for.
"What's behind The Machine, though?" I whispered.
Before I went back into Beatrice's office, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It might take Noah weeks to thaw to my presence in his life, but thaw he would. He'd have no choice in the matter because the cameras didn't lie, and the reason he agreed was to allow a rare glimpse behind the curtain. It reminded me of my favorite movies, The Wizard of Oz.
If Noah Griffin was the wizard, all powerful and too big to comprehend for all that he was able to accomplish, then I'd have to be the unsuspecting Dorothy who unearthed the truth, one day at a time, no matter how out of place I felt doing it.
Ruefully, I glanced down at my nude-colored ballet flats and clicked the heels together. Didn't have the same effect as ruby red slippers that glistened in the light, but it would have to do.
When I opened the door, he stood staring out of the window in the corner, which overlooked the sprawling suburbs where the Wolves training facilities and front offices were located. Off to the southeast, the jagged lines of Mt. Rainier were visible. His shoulders were held so rigidly in place that he didn't give the slightest indication he’d heard me enter, but something at the back of my neck and with the way the hairs lifted on my arms, I knew he was fully aware that we were alone again in the same way I was.
I kept the door open a crack and walked back to my seat. My clipboard was on the corner of Beatrice's desk, and I picked it up so I could flip to the tentative schedule marked out by Amazon. Things they wanted, requests for time and interviews, and insight that they thought would go over well but couldn't be forced.
Setting the clipboard in my lap, I wondered briefly whether I should let him take the lead in this conversation, given he was the one who acted like a giant horse's ass the last time I saw him.
It went against every molecule, every cell in my body not to care what he thought of me. To not try to convince him that I was a safe person for him in this. That our history could benefit us and not make life harder.
But I came to a decision as I sat there in the uncomfortable silence. It didn't matter whether Noah liked me. I just needed him to do his job, and I needed him to let me do mine. We could achieve that whether he liked me or not.
"Beatrice thinks I got this job because of my brother," was the thing that came out of my mouth first. There'd be no filter, not for this conversation. While he and I were alone, honesty was the best thing I could give him.