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"You are out of your goddamn mind!"

I sighed, "I am not. It's the best plan we could have."

She was standing on the other side of the kitchen island and she's literally running from me. I moved around the counter and she moved to the other side, where I was previously standing. "Plan? This is a recipe for disaster, Vince! A romance? You want me to date you?! Me?!"

I rounded the table and she moved away, going into her room.

"You're crazy," she shrugged, pacing. "You have lost your goddamn mind. How? Explain to me. How the hell is this a solution? Making it look like we're dating while I'm your assistant again? Make it make sense."

"If you stopped pacing for a fucking minute, I would," I said, scarily calm.

I don't yell at people in general that much, I don't like losing control of myself and that's what happens when you yell at someone. And when you lose control, you don't know what you're doing, and you could hurt someone. I don't want that.

But when Demi first started working for me, there was one incident where she made a huge mistake. It almost ruined the whole game. But because of her mistake, I was an entire hour late to the stadium. I was lucky that due to a brawl between two people attending, the game was delayed. Of course, I scolded her, she got me in trouble. And that was the first and only time I've seen Demi Tiffany Vaughn cry.

She stood in front of me in my living room with her hands behind her back and her head down while she stared at the floor.

Her hair was still long back then, but it's much longer now, hitting her hips. She was just a ball of nerves back then.

I sighed and her shoulders tensed up, practically covering her ears as they came up. "Demi."

She hesitantly peered up at me.

Even then, I always called her Tiffany. Since we met. But that was the first time I called her Demi. It's when she realized I only use her name when I'm angry. I should go back to doing that.

After all my questioning, when I asked her how she could be so stupid, what she was thinking, how she managed to do something so dumb, how she was so irresponsible... After all that, I just got one sniffle. I paused, my brows furrowing. "Are you crying right now?"

She shook her head quickly.

"Look at me."

She shook her head again, slowly this time.

"Ms. Tiffany."

She hesitantly looked up and wiped her eyes.

I rolled my eyes. "You made a mistake, I got angry because it almost cost me a game. You understand that, I hope."

She nodded eagerly.

"There's no need to cry. You're not a baby. You already apologized, I'm not going to ask you to do that again. Even though you should."

"I'm sorry," she whimpered.

"You made a mistake, learn from it, and don't ever let it happen again."

She nodded.

"Why are you crying?" I huffed.

"You're scary when you're mad," she mumbled, sighing.

"I didn't even yell at you."

"That's why. It would have been less scary if you just yelled at me and got it over with. But you don't yell at people. You're calm when you're angry, scary calm."

"You'd run if I yelled at you."

She clicked her tongue, "No, I wouldn't have. I would have taken it better than I took this. Anger isn't meant to be calm. It's you, you're... weird."

I lifted a brow at her, daring her to say that again.

"Sorry," she sighed, looking back down. She only called me weird, so I let it slide.

"Go home, Tiffany. Be on time, tomorrow."

"Goodnight." She turned and walked into the elevator leaving quietly.

And look at her now. Back then, she could barely talk to me. Now she tells me I'm crazy. Well, she's not my assistant as of now and she never said that sort of thing while she was, so I can't blame her.

"It makes perfect sense," I explained, clenching my fists before running a hand through my hair. "We won't tell the public you're back on the job, we'll just say we're finally ready to make our secret relationship public. The reason you were fired was because we didn't want people to know we were together but since we were, what we did in New York is justified and it'll be covered up. On top of that, we can use the relationship to win over the public until I secure my reputation and spot on the team."

She stared at me, hands on her hips. "And you think nobody will say, 'Oh, wait a second. They're fucking lying' because it is going to be so obvious, Vince! You think we can make this fake relationship look real? We argue all the time, we can't stand each other sometimes, I've never even given you a high-five and you want me to be your girlfriend? Forget it," she scoffed. "Plus, you can't guarantee your reputation will be redeemed. People might just say we're two people who can't follow the rules and keep it in our pants. To be fair, we couldn't."

"To be fair, we were drunk," I huffed. "You'll work as my assistant again, only now, nobody will know it. If anyone asks why you're with me everywhere we go, it's because we're together. Any event, you'll be my date, like you have been when you were my assistant. It's not that different."

She stared at me in disbelief. "You're delusional."

"What? What's the difference? Standing closer to me? Holding my hand? Kissing me? We did much more than that, Demi."

She let out a soft groan, "Don't use that against me."

I saw the faint blush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

"And you don't just kiss people you don't like," she continued.

"You did kiss me."

"Vince!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth. "It won't be believable. I'm your girlfriend, that's why we slept together and it's okay, a lie, but fine. And you fired me because we wanted to keep our relationship a secret? Fine. But now suddenly, when it's convenient for you, we're revealing it? People will know what we're doing."

"I'll miss a few games."

"What?"

"We haven't started the season, these are preseason games. I'll train but I can miss a game or two and say I'm taking time off to spend it with you. We'll make public appearances, we'll make it work, Tiffany."

She stared at me.

I could see the doubt slipping away, she was contemplating it. So, I pushed harder. "Come on, Tiffany. You know it's a smart idea."

"What if it backfires? And people don't believe it?"

"We'll say the public's hate drove us apart and we broke up. You didn't like the spotlight." I shrugged.

She paused, hesitant. "What do I get out of it?"

"What? Your job," I scoffed.

"You're forgetting something."

"What?"

"I don't want that job anymore."

I stared at her for a minute. "What do you want?"

"I'm not admitting to you what I need right now."

I watched her for a moment, thinking. "If I figure it out, will you agree?"

"Maybe," she shrugged.

"Money?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, don't try to buy or bribe me," she spat. "Think on it. But leave my apartment, please," she whined, stomping her feet. "Leave me alone." She sat on her bed, pulling her knees in and hugging them, hiding behind them.

I scanned her room, moving to her desk quietly. It's fate. The papers are right there. "You need an apartment, I know that," I said.

She looked up at me, then at the paper I picked up. She shot up, standing on the bed and rushing over to take it. "Vince, no!"

"You're in debt?" I moved my arm back, staring at her.

"Give it back," she huffed.

I watched her, scanning the papers quickly. "You're in debt," I stated.

"No, I'm not," she grunted, trying to take them but I held up one hand, holding her by her arm in place while I read the paper one more time.

"Oh."

She stopped struggling.

"Your parents are."

Her eyes met mine.

"How much?" I asked.

"I'm not telling you. I don't want your money. I'll pay off their debt on my own and I'll find myself a job and an apartment and I will not be your girlfriend for this shit. Give me the paper."

It was a bank statement. From North Carolina, where she's from, where her parents stay. I flipped it over, exhaling softly. "Wow. $150,000 balance paid, $350, 000 remaining." I looked back up at her, putting the sheet down.

She threw my hand off, glaring at me.

I thought and thought some more and we sat in silence. I shrugged, "I'll pay it off."

Her eyes came up to mine, blank. "What?"

"The debt. I'll pay it off."

She rolled her eyes.

"And I'll get you a place to stay. But then you have to be my girlfriend in public and..."

Her eyes narrowed.

"My assistant in private," I finished, folding my arms across my chest.

She seems confused.

"Ms. Tiffany, I promise to pay off your parents' debt, get you a nice place to stay, and give you a secured job, if you agree to my terms. And I'll give you that in writing."

"You'll draw up a contract?"

I nodded.

She sighed. "You're buying me."

"Everyone has a price," I shrugged.

She scoffed softly, shaking her head.

"You'll sign an NDA with it," I added. "You can't tell anybody about it. The deal."

After a long, long pause, she finally asked, "How long do I have to do this for? Be your... girlfriend and assistant?"

That's the problem, I don't have a deadline to give her. "Until... forever."

"No," she said immediately.

"Until further notice," I huffed. "Look, I don't know when this will all blow over. But I need to keep it going until I'm back on track. I can't tell you how long that will take, it depends on the public, coach's decision, and the press. But you'll be free to break the contract whenever you want."

"With consequences?"

"Obviously. I'll stop paying the debt. But I'll let you have a place to stay. And the job? Up to you then," I sighed, shrugging.

She stared at me.

"Think about it. And don't call to give me your decision. Come see me."

"Why?"

"Just because. Whenever you know, drop by the penthouse."

"You're leaving?"

"Do you want me to stay?" I cocked a brow at her.

She rolled her eyes, falling back on the bed. I glanced at her once and then left.

God, I hope she agrees.

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