Page 18 of Tempting the Player
Jack closed his eyes and blew out a long breath.
Very slowly, Chad forced himself to address her for the first time since he learned who she was and why she was there. Two dark brown eyes met his from behind square glasses. That stare made him want to cup his balls. True story.
Miss Alana Gore was the epitome of prim and fucking proper. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun. Her pantsuit was a drab muddy color and ill fitting. Her shoes looked like something a nun would use to kick kids with. Not a speck of makeup covered her face. She might have actually been a decent-looking woman if she knew how to smile.
She was so not smiling right now.
Chad folded his arms. “And exactly how am I supposed to get my act together?”
“Well, for starters, try keeping your dick in your pants for longer than twenty-four hours.”
Jack sounded like he choked, but Chad just stared at the woman. “Excuse me?”
Miss Gore smiled, and shit, it made her scarier. “Let me ask you a question, Mr. Gamble. Do you want to play for the Nationals?”
Stupid question. “What do you think?”
Her smile didn’t fade. “And you don’t want to leave the city, correct?” When he narrowed his eyes, she went on. “I’ve done my research on you, Chad. You have two brothers who both live in the city. You’re very close with them. The three of you are all joined at the hip. No other family except the Daniels.” She paused, scrunching her nose. “They run an apocalypse store?”
“It’s not an apocalypse store.” Chad was used to defending them. “It’s a preparation store for—”
“Whatever,” she said too sweetly.
Chad’s skin started to itch.
“In many of your past interviews, you’ve stated very clearly that you don’t want to leave the city or your loved ones.” She leaned forward, clasping her hands around her crossed knee. “So if you want to stay here and continue to be paid to play ball, then you’re going to do exactly what I say.”
He turned to his agent. “This is drastic.”
“Drastic?” Miss Gore bent forward and pulled the newspaper from her oversize black purse, and Chad cursed. “You were pictured in bed with three women.”
“I didn’t have sex with them!”
Both Jack and Miss Gore shared doubtful looks. “And what about the Victoria’s Secret model you were seen with the weekend before?” she asked.
“I didn’t sleep with her, either!” He took a deep breath. “Okay. I did sleep with her about eight months ago, but I haven’t recently. We’re friends.”
The look on the publicist’s face said she questioned his definition of friendship. “And the twins from four weeks ago?”
Good God, was this woman a stalker? “The twins used to date one of my brothers. We—”
“Are just friends, right?” Her smile tightened. He shot her a bland look, and she ignored him. “And then there’s this club you like to frequent. Leather and Lace? Let me guess, you go there searching for new friends.”
Chad glowered. “Funny.”
Miss Gore looked rather proud of herself. The whole messed-up thing was the fact that Chad hadn’t had sex with anyone in the last three months. Sure, it wasn’t an astronomical dry spell, but for him, it was epic. Hell, he hadn’t been interested in any woman until he stumbled across Bridget.
Shit.
That woman was the last female he wanted to think about. He was still pissed and confused about her leaving him while he was in the damn bathroom, and now he was dealing with this crap.
Miss Gore dropped the newspaper on the desk. “You probably don’t know who I am, but I can assure you that nothing is more important to me than my job, and your Club hired me to repair your image.”
“My image doesn’t need repairing.” He turned to Jack. “I didn’t sleep with those women.”
“Just hear her out,” Jack suggested tiredly.
“It doesn’t matter if you did slept with an entire floor of an all girls’ dorm or not,” Miss Gore said. “It’s all about perception, and right now the District thinks you’re a whore.”
