Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,31

drinks and workouts differently. We create a specific recipe to replace the exact vitamins, minerals, and electrolytes that athlete expends during the length of a game. It shortens recovery times. “

I stared at the people in the room. All of this for a drink?

“Gatorade’s been doing it for years. Ever see a world cup game? When an athlete goes down, and the trainers rush out with a crate of Gatorade… that’s not the stuff off the shelf. It’s a mix created specifically for that player. Sometimes they play in extreme heat. It allows them to hydrate in a way not possible with water. It limits cramping.”

“You do that here?”

“Every week. There are other labs, too. We run blood samples to search for any vitamin or enzyme deficiencies. We run independent tests for the NFL and the MLS to check for PEDs.”

“PEDs?”

“Performance Enhancing Drugs. Sometimes it’s best the league isn’t the only one running the tests. We’re the official lab for second opinions.”

“Wow.”

“This is what I meant,” he said, gesturing around us, an unmistakable note of pride in his voice. “When I said I want you to work for me. There’s a place here for you. It’s science, not the mall.”

But all of this… it was too much to hope for. “I don’t want to be your pity hire.”

“You’re not. It’s hard to fill these jobs all at once, and we’re still short a few staffers. We created the internship program to boost our hiring. Besides, it comes with strings.”

“Strings?”

“You have to go back to school. The internship program is for college seniors. You’ll get the same pay scale as anyone else with your equivalent background. I’m not doing you favors here. I need a real employee. There are a few departments that could use an extra hand, so you can decide which one seems most appealing.”

“Oh,” I said. Could I do this? Could I really work for him in this way?

It would mean I didn’t have to leave Matt behind…

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“That’s all I ask.”

We continued down the long halls, and I looked at the rooms behind the glass with new eyes. Landon was right—I had thought he’d built some glorified gym. But this… this was state of the art science.

“How did you build all this so quickly?” I asked, as we turned into a wing we hadn’t walked down before. “The cost of the center must be astronomical. And the athletes you attract…”

“I befriended a couple of rich pre-med students. They had trust funds they were desperate to throw at something. We partnered with a well-known division 1 quarterback for the first center and we collaborated with a more established doctor. It was a pilot center, and it didn’t run nearly as smoothly as later ones have. But it got me my start and I grew it from there with hard work and determination.”

He paused before a door, tapping his card up against the reader.

“And how did the quarterback end up doing?”

I followed him through the double set of doors, into a smaller, more quiet hall.

“He won the Heisman his senior year. And was sure to credit Prestige Sports Medicine for helping him get there. He was later drafted by the Cardinals and convinced us to launch our second center in Arizona. Half the team comes to us.”

“So you got a little lucky,” I said, as we stopped beside a gleaming mahogany door with frosted glass.

He stopped beside me, a hand on the doorknob. His eyes narrowed. “Luck is when you win on a slot machine or a scratch ticket. Nothing I’ve built is based on luck.”

He pushed the door open, and I stepped inside, instantly recognizing it as his office. The vaulted ceilings showcased big steel beams, and the tall windows—colored with leaded glass—let in bright light.

A giant oak desk sat in the middle, anchored by a thick wool rug. One wall was taken up by leather-bound books, while the other had matted, frame sports photos. Seahawks players, Sounders players, and beyond.

“That would be the Heisman winner,” he said gesturing to one portrait. “He’s one of my partners now.”

I rounded his desk, pulling myself up on top of it as I study the portraits.

“That’s an impressive group,” I said.

He stepped closer, turning in front of me. “They impress you?”

The words he didn’t say were clear: he wanted me to be impressed by him. By the things he’d accomplished, not on the playing field, but here. In an office, behind his enormous desk.

I stared into his