Internship with the Devil
Grace Turner scores the opportunity of a lifetime interning with an Ex-NFL player. But working under Brock Anderson turns out to be the job from hell. The hometown hero turned athletic trainer has a reputation as the best in his field, but his volatile personality makes working with him miserable.
Despite the animosity between them, he’s highly respected in his field and interning under him could mean everything for her career. The long days, longer nights, injuries, and busses filled with smelly athletes are the easy part. The biggest battle is the unwarranted attraction to Brock that she can’t seem to shake.
But as Grace spends more and more time with her brooding boss, she uncovers that his abrasive nature is deep rooted in his grief—something she’s no stranger to.
The glimpses of the man beneath the harsh exterior Brock presents to the world leave Grace conflicted in her feelings for him. As the internship draws to a close, Grace is faced with a choice that could set her future on an entirely new course.
“Uh, hi. I'm Grace Turner.” I held out my sweaty hand, hoping the trembling wasn't too obvious. I needed to get off to a good start. My career goals were important. More important than this guy being a dick. So, I waited. And waited. And waited.
His lips turned downward. So much so that it had to hurt his face. My hand still hung between us, awkward and a mixture of embarrassment to the tenth degree. He moved one of his hands to scratch his jaw, bringing my attention to his incredible jawline.
I dropped my hand. I couldn't handle the flip-flopping going on in my stomach, and when I got uncomfortable, word vomit ensued. Hence, why I decided to attempt being friendly. “Are you Brock Anderson? I'm the one who received the internship for the season. I'm Grace. I’m so excited for this opportunity.”
I’d introduced myself. Again. And, he still hadn't said a word. Someone moved into view from his office and gave me a small wave. I returned the gesture to the older gentleman and that was when Asshole Anderson spoke.
“Excuse me.” He motioned with his large wrist for me to leave the office.
I stepped back, shocked, and gasped when he shut the door in my face. What. The. Hell. I pinched my nose, taking deep breaths. I counted to three a couple of times and calmed myself down, but then loud, angry voices carried through the door. It was him, his voice brasher and deeper than anyone else's. So, I did what anyone would do. I listened.
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