FAKE DATE MY EX’S TEAMMATE

Chapter Three

Maya’s POV 

Finn steps in beside me, without Celeste, his fiancée. Still, I look out for her, amidst the roaring of blood loud against my ears. The elevator doors slide shut, and at once, I am so aware of the man I was madly in love with.

My back presses against the cool railing, and I try to pretend to breathe normally, taking it slow. I pretend like my pulse isn’t thundering through my ears.

Finn stands next to me, like six years haven’t changed a thing. His cologne is sharper than I remember, but still the same. Smoke and cedar, laced with a note that makes my throat ache. The one I personally picked out for him.

He still hasn’t changed it. 

His eyes remain glued to the doors, and a loud silence stretches between us, so loud that it makes me move uneasily on the spot. His eyes watch mine closely, from our reflection on the steel walls.

I swallow, feeling my heart trying to claw its way out. Finally, just when I think I cannot take one more minute of this silence, he turns. 

“You’ve got nerve,” he begins, his voice edged with ice. “Walking back in here like nothing happened.”

I swallow again, keeping my tone neutral. “Nothing happened, Finn. And I am here to do my job. That is all this is.”

His laugh is humourless and short. “Your job, right? Was that what that night was about? You left without a word. I was in a hospital bed undergoing surgery, Maya. Have you always been such a horrible person?”

“Finn…” There is so much more that he has no idea of. So much more that I can’t tell him. 

“Does Tara know?”

I shake my head.

“You shouldn’t have come to Chicago, Maya,” he murmurs, leaning away from the wall. “The funny thing about ghosts is that they always come back to finish what they started.”

My forehead scrunches in confusion. “I am… I don’t…”

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Finn steps out first, disappearing behind a wall without as much as a glance back. 

I rush out to follow Finn. I have to warn him not to tell Tara anything. She was explicit about her rule that I must not have had any history with the players. If she gets to know that I dated Finn all those years back, or worse, that I have a son for him, my job here at the arena is going to be gone in the blink of an eye. 

“Finn!” I call desperately, trying to catch up with him. But suddenly, Tara appears out of nowhere, a frown settling on her face as she stops me in my tracks. 

She looks from Finn’s retreating figure to my dishevelled self, my breath coming out in pants. “What was that about?”

My lips open, and then I swallow immediately. “Nothing, I …”

“Finn was just being a jerk,” Jax says from behind me, and I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Maya was trying to speak with him about his schedule, and he wasn’t exactly responsive. You know how he has gotten since he got engaged to Celeste. He acts like he is the boss around here.”

“He does not,” Tara counters, then narrows her eyes in our direction. “Remember the rules, Maya. One wrong step and you are out. I am not going to tell with a mess like the last time.”

“Of course,” I answer in a clipped tone. Tara pulls away from me, and I turn to Jax. He winks at me, just as Tara stops in her tracks and whips her head around. 

“There’s another meeting, Maya. In my office. Right now.”

“Good luck,” Jax whispers, already pulling away.

“And you too, Jax.”

He stops. “Me?”

“My office.”

We walk in together, eyeing the number of chairs that have been moved in. 

“Sit,” Tara instructs, her eyes flicking to me for a brief second before she walks to her desk, turning on her laptop. Finn is here as well, along with Celeste, so I make it a point to sink into the farthest chair and just hope he says nothing about us.

Celeste offers me a disdainful smirk, like she has a personal beef with me or something. 

Before I can take in one more breath, the door barges open and an older man strides in, all silver hair, sharp jaw, and cold eyes. I place the resemblance immediately. He has to be Celeste’s father. That makes him Mr. Hale, the largest shareholder of the Northline Sports Agency. 

The room shifts with his dominance. I can tell that Jax isn’t exactly a fan of how he scoots away. 

“Ticket sales are down,” he announces without sitting. “And the Mercers are trying to bleed us try. Very soon, they will start poaching our players. I assume they are already making plans to reach out to Jax. They might try for Finn, but he is engaged to Celeste, which ties down his loyalty to us.”

Does he always do this? Speak about people as if they are not in the same room as him?

I risk a glance at Finn. A muscle twitches in his jaw. He doesn’t like this either. 

“We need to fix this.”

All heads turn to Jax, who is sitting at the far end of the room like none of this has anything to do with him. He raises his head when he sees Mr. Hale watching him too, and then a smirk stretches on his face. 

“Good morning to you, too, Uncle Elliot,” he drawls. “Sleep well?”

So Jax is Mr. Hale’s nephew. Interesting. That makes Celeste his cousin. Is this a family-owned business?

Elliot ignores his carefully intended jab. “The rumors about you being on drugs end now, Jax. I don’t care if they are true or false. Perception is everything, and right now, we are being burned by the flames of that rumor. Not to mention your reputation for being a heartbreaker.”

Jax leans back in his chair, bringing one foot across the other. “This isn’t as hard as you make it sound, Uncle. I can charm my way through a press conference, like you have always made me do. Problem solved. Easy, right?”

It feels like there is a family problem somewhere in there, and I shouldn’t be here, listening to all of this.

Tara clears her throat noisily, interfering in the brooding war. “You have been charming your way through all this while, Jax. And the gossip columns are still full of your name. We need something bigger.”

Silence falls over the room, sliced through at intervals by Elliot’s impatient feet as he paces the length of the space. Then Tara’s eyes strayed, straight to me. 

“Maya,” she chirps suddenly, a mischievous glint shining through her eyes. “You are new. Unknown in Chicago. Perfect!”

I frown. “Perfect for what?”

“I have an idea,” she breathes as her red lips curve. “Why don’t we run a fake dating campaign?”