No Strings Attached (18+)

Chapter 5

Inside, I stopped by the locker room and dumped my duffel, freshening up my hair and makeup in an attempt to look less disheveled. I took a moment to fill Brooklyn in on the past day's events and fueled myself with her righteous indignation.

Ending the call, I stared at my reflection, steeling myself for the coming confrontation. With one last glance, I put my tools away and headed in the direction of the Human Resources office, located at the other end of the sprawling building.

When I arrived, the receptionist seemed surprised to see me.

"Hi," I began, "I need to file a complaint."

"Actually," he looked behind him, "I think they're already waiting for you."

The floor fell out beneath me, "What?"

Glancing down at a notepad, he asked, "Ms. Carter?"

The fuck?

My confidence vanished in an instant, "That's me."

"Then, yes, they're waiting for you in the conference room."

Oh, no...

Raw terror flooded through me, and I thanked him, walking toward my certain doom.

The door was closed when I found it, and, raising a shaking hand, I rapped my knuckles against the wood.

"Come in."

Twisting the handle, I stepped inside, and froze-

Nick sat at the head of the table, looking cold and professional and furious.

His expression brightened when he saw me, "Ah, Ms. Carter, please sit."

What the fuck?

On autopilot, I obeyed, pulling out and sitting in one of the black mesh office chairs that ringed the oval table.

Pressing a button on the conference room intercom, Nick demanded, "Is he here yet?"

The receptionist answered through the speaker, "He just arrived, Sir."

Sir? What the hell is -

My thoughts cut off as an image flashed in my mind, a vision of the plaque that hung in the training center entryway, highlighting the important staff members.

Right at the top, under the word, "Owner":

Nicholas Wright.

Oh, fuck me sideways-

Behind me, the door opened, and I turned to see a hatefully familiar set of piggy eyes.

Dave.

"Mr. Turner," Nick addressed him in a noticeably cooler tone, "Sit."

Sidling away from me, Dave picked a chair and sat, looking distinctly uneasy.

At least it's not just me.

Nick knit his fingers together and spoke in a commanding voice, "Thank you all for joining me today-"

"What's this about, Sir?" Dave glanced at me and then around the table.

I followed his eyes, noting the substantial number of suit-clad executives, along with a majority of the cheerleading coaches.

Oh, no...

"Funny you should ask that, Mr. Turner; I actually have an interesting story that I'd like to share with you. It began yesterday when I was driving back to the city. Unfortunately, I got stuck because a massive storm cell caused some flooding down south - you may have heard about it on the news."