the jock

Keely wasn’t told a lot about the guy she was supposed to be assisting but he was apparently some big shot athelete with a bit of a superiority complex. Normally that would bother the blonde but being in an up and coming fashion designer in New York City had prepared her for people like him and she might be small but she wasn’t about to let anyone tell her what to do or make them think they were better than her because they had money. But having that mentality still didn’t quell the nerves she was feeling as she pulled her car into the long driveway leading up to his house. It was massive and she knew immediately that she was going to get lost in the maze of rooms and hallways. Running a hand through her hair, she let out the breath she’d been holding the enitre time as she walked up the front door. She hadn’t seen a picture of this guy, only knowing his name, so she had come up with so many ideas of what working for him would be like. The best case scenario was that he would nice and accomodating, and they would have a nice rapport and hopefully become friends because Keely liked to think that shecould win anyone over but the longer she stood there, the longer her nerves started taking over.  

And it didn’t help that the man who answered the door was gorgeous. She tried not to stare but the man had everything going for him and she let out an audible gasp, hoping he hadn’t noticed before clearing her throat. It took her a moment to really understand what he’d said but when her brain finally snapped out of it, she laughed softly and shook her head. “Um, I’m not an autograph kind of girl. Especially when I don’t even know what it is you play.  My name’s Keely. I’m your new assistant.”  She said, extending her hand for him to shake. 

Liam wasn’t used to people just stopping by his house unexpectedly. Money and professional success had brought a level of public invasiveness into his life, but it had also given him the ability to live somewhere that all but guaranteed he had privacy when he wanted. Most of the time he didn’t bother with people outside of his social circle. Parties with models and other athletes were more his scene than random fans, and maybe it had earned him a reputation for having let fame and success go to his head, but it was what it was. He’d already fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts to his agent’s number to get an explanation of just where security had gone wrong by the time the woman’s words registered and he paused, questions warring in his mind. His agent had been vague on the details when he told Liam he’d lined up a new assistant - suspiciously so, he realized, as the pieces fell into place.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, as he hit the power button on his phone to dim the screen before sliding it back into his pocket. Still, he stepped back so she could come inside, still a little unused to the crutches he was stuck with for the next several weeks. “What kind of assistant doesn’t do the bare minimum research on the person they’re working for?” There wasn’t any real malice behind the words, just disbelief at the way the entire situation was playing out. “Look, I don’t know who you talked to, but you can’t be my assistant.” 

Keely was frustrated. You would think having a college degree in fashion design and living in New York City would make finding a job easy but she was struggling. Not to mention all the major labels had turned their noses up at her designs. It was enough to make her crazy but luckily for her, she had a great roommate that had told her about this hiring firm and while it wasn’t what she wanted to do, she knew if she wanted to save some money to start her own clothing line, she needed to take anything she could get so as she punched the address into her GPS, she sat back and checked the name once again. Liam Jackson. He was apparently some soccer player or something and had suffered an injury and she had been hired on as a temporary assistant to him while he recovered. It was for supposed to be for eight weeks but given those sporty guys, she would probably be fired way before then. 

Either way, she pulled out of the parking deck of her building and headed upstate to the more pricier homes and she couldn’t believe the size of his place and as she pulled into the driveway, her mouth dropped and she stood in awe of it, running a hand through her hair before letting out a nervous giggle. “He lives here? What the hell have I gotten myself in here? I was an assistant once. This is crazy.” She did a little dance to calm her nerves before walking up the steps to his mansion and gently knocked on the door. She had no idea who was on the other side of the door but she did know that it was definitely going to be exciting. 

Liam had never been under the impression that he was invincible. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever made it through a complete season in the NFL without an injury of some kind, but usually they were nothing serious. With the partial PCL tear that he was now facing, along with the torture of being forced to take it easy for the next eight weeks, though, he couldn’t help but feel like the inevitable was finally here. The pain involved had been one thing, but for someone who was used to spending hours each day in the gym and on the field pushing himself to his physical limit, he was already going stir crazy at the very thought of taking time off. It had also meant that his agent insisted he get a more reliable assistant, even going so far as to arrange everything for him before simply passing along the details of when they would arrive. It wasn’t ideal - while Liam had had somewhat of a string of flakey assistants in the past, he preferred the level of control that came with doing things for himself. There hadn’t been any room for negotiation in dealing with his agent, though, so when he heard a knock on the door of his house, he was half expecting it.

Or at least he was until he opened the door to find a woman standing on the other side. He eyed her critically for a moment before responding. His address wasn’t exactly public information, and it wasn’t every day that a random fan managed to get so close to his house. “If you’re here for an autograph, this isn’t a good time.”