Focused: A hate to love sports romance
Karla Sorensen
Chapter One
Molly
If I'd known that my new boss was Cruella de Vil, I would've color coordinated my outfit for work that day. She matched the colors of the Washington Wolves perfectly. She was all sleekness and shine with her black dress, white jacket, red shoes, red lips, and a silvery white bob that fell just below her glass-sharp chin.
"Molly Ward, is it?" she asked quietly. Like the kind of quiet where I felt like if I answered wrong, she'd press a button, and I’d fall through a secret trap door.
I nodded. "Welcome to Washington, Miss Kelly. I've been looking forward to meeting you."
One perfectly manicured eyebrow lifted like it was being pulled oh, so slowly by someone tugging a string. Briefly, she glanced down at something on her desk, my employment file, presumably. "You've been here a long time."
I smiled. "My whole life, practically. But as a paid employee, for four years now."
I waited for Beatrice Kelly, the brand-new chief marketing officer of the Washington Wolves, to smile back, but she didn't.
As I stood in front of her desk, my nervous fingers twitching together behind my back, she appraised me openly, her gray eyes （because even her eyes matched） traveling from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, clad in sensible brown leather flats.
Personally, I found sensible footwear incredibly sexy because I enjoyed the ability to walk without pain at the end of the day when my shoes came off.
For some reason, those shoes offended her. I saw it the moment her gaze touched the rounded toe and tiny leather bow in the middle.
I glanced down, like the shoes would explain to me what they'd done wrong and why we were now in trouble with my brand-new boss.
I miss Ava, I thought for the thousandth time, my heart squeezing over the loss of my old boss, Ava Hawkins. Why they had to up and move across the country to be closer to her husband's family was beyond me.
"Have a seat," Beatrice said, still not taking her eyes off my shoes. I slid into one high-back black chair and folded my hands in my lap, wishing desperately to have something to keep them occupied. My whole life, I was the worst fidgeter in the universe when I was nervous. And this moment right here was sliding right into the top ten moments of all time. "Tell me what you love about your job, Molly Ward."
My brain raced at the unexpected question because I felt very much like I was being tested on some unseen scale. Quite irrationally, I wanted to glare at my shoes as if they'd gotten me into this mess.
"I love so much about my job, Miss Kelly," I said honestly. "I could probably talk your ear off for hours telling you all the reasons."
She hummed. "Marketing liaison suits you then?"
"It does." I took a deep breath because I knew this was one of those moments when false modesty would get me nowhere with my kinda scary, really matchy-matchy boss. "I'm good with people. I make them comfortable and anticipate their needs well. So when I finished my internship, Ava knew that I’d do well dealing with our advertisers, and I believe that I have. For the past four years, I've built strong relationships with our advertisers and we haven't lost a single major sponsor since I took over that role. They trust me, and I've earned that trust."
For a split second, I held my breath, worried I'd gone too far, based on the speculative gleam in her eyes. My restless hands itched to reach up into my hair and redo my bun for the thousandth time. It was a bit of a running joke among my coworkers that you could tell I was stressed when my hair moved positions more than two times throughout the day. This morning, knowing I'd be meeting my new boss, I'd anchored every strand of my dark hair so firmly into place that only a crane operator would be able to get it to budge.
"May I be honest, Molly Ward?"
"Of course." And also, why did she keep saying my full name?
Beatrice settled back in her large leather chair and studied me again. "I wasn't looking forward to meeting you."
Ever heard the air being let out of a balloon? That slow, sad hiss of air until the only thing left was a droopy piece of crumpled plastic? Yeah, now imagine it happening to an unsuspecting twenty-five-year-old, eager to get to know her new boss.
"Oh," I exhaled. "Okay?" As soon as the words slipped out, I wanted to take them back.
This wasn't okay. Not okay at all. I'd known these halls and practice fields and offices since I was fourteen years old. Everyone here loved me! I was Molly freaking Ward. I was good at my job. No, I kicked ass at my job. "Actually," I said slowly, gathering my nerve and lifting my chin, "I'm sorry to hear that because I was looking forward to meeting you. I love this organization, I love my job, and I'm very good at it. If it's something I've done in the past that I can improve on, please tell me, so I can fix it."