Crimson

By Maura Archer

Kala Thomas accidentally backed into Justin Conrad’s car, the big shot basketball player for the Crimson Cats. He was tall, very tall and intimidating but he was also the most gorgeous man she ever laid eyes on. When he offered to take her home, she thought he was just being nice, but she was soon to learn that Justin didn’t do nice, he did much more. When she found herself in his arms, she knew she should run. There were good reasons why they shouldn't hook up, but women didn’t say no to Justin Conrad. Was Kala strong enough to not be one of those women or would she submit herself to him and jeopardize everything she had worked for?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight
• Release date: Feb 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9780369507662

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Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2023 Maura Archer

ISBN: 978-0-3695-0766-2

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Melissa Hosack

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

CRIMSON

Maura Archer

Copyright © 2023

Chapter One

Kala took a deep breath before entering the interview room where five people waited around a large glass conference table. As she entered, there was instant quiet.

The young woman from reception who had acted as her escort guided her to an empty chair at the head of the table.

Kala sat down, her nerves raw with anticipation.

Take a breath and concentrate on your surroundings and not the people at the table staring at you.

The room was impressive, from the high ceilings outlined by beautifully designed crown molding to the large windows that overlooked a magnificent view of the city. The other two walls held photos of teams, players, and what she assumed were past and present Crimson Cats management. It was a room that had been designed to display unity and power. She couldn’t believe she’d been invited into the team’s private inner sanctum of greatness. They had won several NBA championships over the years and were predicted to be the team to beat this season. Refocusing her attention back to the interviewers, she watched as an impeccably dressed older woman holding a cell phone finally placed it on the table.

Sorry about that, everyone. I turned off the ringer as I hope you have all done.

Everyone in the room nodded that they had.

Kala, she said in a flat neutral voice, thank you for coming to meet with us today.

I’m very happy to be here, Kala said quickly, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. Working for a professional sports team has been my goal, and one as prestigious as the Crimson Cats would truly be a dream come true.

We like that you are a graduate of Drexel University and that you maintained a 3.90 grade point average. Not waiting for Kala to respond, she continued. "Please let me introduce you to the interview team. I’m Mrs. Donovan, the Vice President in charge of Development and Events. With me today are Mark Jackson, Director of Events, Kelly Smith, Associate Director, Facilities, Adam Lasko, Manager, Catering and Contracts, and our previous intern, Jason Miller, who has become a permanent member of our team. The Intern we hire will be working and learning from each person here.

Kala gave them a big but not too toothy smile she had practiced in front of the mirror. She so wanted to make a super good impression. It is nice to meet you all. I look forward to hopefully working with and learning from you.

We will each ask you a series of questions, Mrs. Donovan continued. After everyone has had a chance to talk to you, you can ask questions. Let’s begin.

As the interview progressed, Kala became certain the bright florescent lights had been turned on high to deliberately simulate an interrogation room. There was no casual conversation. Her interrogators were skilled in staring her down without blinking while they moved from one question to the other with no encouragement or displeasure. Regardless, she tried her best to provide answers that were thoughtful, detailed, and organized. She wanted them to see that her verbal communication skills were excellent along with the written samples of her work that she had already provided.

We appreciate you taking the time to answer our questions, Kala, Mrs. Donovan said with a nod. Jenny should be here shortly to escort you to the elevator. Thank you.

Her heart sank when Mrs. Donovan didn’t ask her if she had any questions as she had told her she would at the beginning of the interview. Obviously, she had failed to impress them. She felt like crying.

No. I will not cry, and I am going to ask at least one question whether they like it or not.

I do have one question, she said trying to inflect confidence in her voice.

Mrs. Donovan looked up at her in surprise, but recovered quickly. Of course. What is your question?

The position description you posted addressed charitable events and also fan day events. However, I didn’t see anything listed about development partnerships and was wondering if your intern would also be able to gain experience in this area?

That’s a good question, Mrs. Donovan said, giving her a hint of a smile for the first time. Yes, it is something an intern could be involved in but in a very small way as our most senior staff coordinate these types of efforts. A lot depends on the competence of the intern as to how deeply they become involved in different aspects of fund raising with high profile clients and players.

Kala was about to say that she appreciated their time, but before she could utter a syllable, they were all standing.

I’m sure you know we have a number of very qualified candidates, Mrs. Donovan said in her professional we’re not going to hire you voice. We should make a decision in the next couple weeks.

Thank you all for seeing me today, she said quickly as the girl who had brought her to the conference room appeared on cue to usher her out the door, through the office, and to the bank of elevators.

On the ride down to the lobby, she wondered if the interview committee were just rude, had already chosen their hire, or maybe she had said something that rubbed them the wrong way. They had made it pretty obvious that she didn’t have a shot in hell of being hired. A job like this would have really set her career in motion, and now she was back to square one.

Her life was a mess and no matter what she did, it didn’t seem to be getting any better. Her parents had recently told her they were having financial and marital problems. Her father informed her that when her lease on the apartment was up, she was going to have pay the entire rent or move back home. Her heart was hurting over the death of her childhood pet, and now she had screwed up a great opportunity for an internship that would have set her career in motion. Pushing through the heavy lobby doors, she ran down the steps to the parking lot feeling overwhelmed and defeated.

Once she was sitting inside her car, she allowed the darkness that had been threatening to overpower her since she woke up this morning to finally consume her. The interview had been the icing on the cake of a bad week.

Last night when her father had unexpectedly knocked on her apartment door, she knew something was wrong. Flannigan, the family dog, had died peacefully in his sleep. At sixteen years old, he had lived a long life, but it didn’t matter his age, she would never be prepared for her friend’s death. She remembered the day her father had brought him home when she was seven and he was just a playful, willful puppy. He became her buddy, and now he was gone. She would never be greeted by him again, or be able ruffle his fur as he licked her face with unconditional love. He had never let her down. She had wanted to bring him to the apartment, but they only allowed small dogs and even then, they charged a monthly fee. Plus, her parents were crazy attached to him.

Wiping her eyes, she turned on the car’s ignition. She cursed the annoying beep and quickly buckled her seatbelt. With a quick glance at the dashboard monitor, she slid the gearshift in reverse, then applied the gas. Within seconds the car came to a jerking halt accompanied by the screeching sound of metal on metal. Stunned, her eyes refocused on the monitor where a silver truck had materialized out of nowhere.

What the hell … if the saying, when it rains it pours, was true, I’m in a freaking monsoon.

Pushing the gear shift into Park, she turned the car off then gripped the steering wheel to keep her fingers from shaking while cursing her own incompetence. For just a second, she had lost her concentration and taken her eyes of the monitor. She wanted to scream, but that wouldn’t do, so she popped open the glovebox, to grab her insurance card along with a peppermint before stepping out of the car.

What if someone has been hurt? Dear God, let no one be hurt.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, she walked back to where a Mercedes SUV, not a truck, was pressed against her bumper. The man leaning against the hood looked to be around her age, all six foot something of him. He was noticeably tall with thick dark hair that was long enough to curl at the nape of his neck. He wore a crimson sweat suit, white t-shirt, and white sneakers. He was, of course—she groaned internally—a player for the Crimson Cats. And not just any player but their star, Justin Conrad. To boot, he was drop dead gorgeous with his chiseled features and startling pale blue eyes that were focused on her.

Okay, so the monsoon just became a tidal wave of epic proportions.

With trepidation, she approached him slowly. By the set of his broad shoulders and drawn lips, she was about to get blasted. The man’s height alone made him intimidating, but the sheer magnitude of who he was caused her to stop short of standing directly in front of him. She needed distance from this man in case she had to run for cover.

Where most people had faces that turned plain ugly when they were angry, anger only intensified his good looks. He could have been a model, every inch of him was prime time. It didn’t help that she could see his muscles tensing through his white t-shirt or the way his sweats hung from his hips. He was an athlete in the best condition of his life … an example of what she could only define as perfection.

Finally coming to her senses, she realized that he was talking to her while she had been ogling him like one of his basketball groupies.

Oh God, he must think I’m daft.

I said, I’m Justin Conrad, and you are?

Taking a step back instead of forward, she cleared her throat, trying to project her voice so he could hear her while continuing to stay a safe distance away. I’m very sorry, Mr. Conrad. I know it’s all my fault. I have insurance. You have a beautiful car. Thankfully it doesn’t look as bad as mine. You don’t appear hurt, thank God. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I can’t believe this happened. Oh, and I’m Kala. She knew she was babbling and that her voice was trembling. How pathetic she sounded even to her own ears.

Unfortunately for you, this is all your fault. His voice was deep, reprimanding. Obviously you weren’t paying attention. I’ve called the Police. He took a few steps closer to her, causing her to inch back a little farther. She prayed he would just allow her to wait in her car