Page 13 of Game Plan
"What? Not interested in furthering your career with some gossip about the Coach. Or me?" I asked.
"No," she replied. "Unless you have something you want to share. Exclusively."
Now I snorted. "Sure. I have thirteen wives. None of them know about each other." I shouldn't joke. It might be tomorrow's headline. For some reason, I knew she wouldn't do that. If she did, theNational Dailywouldn't get another word from me. Until now, we had a reasonably good relationship. No doubt she was told that before she was sent here.
I imagined that conversation.
'Don't piss him off, he makes for good copy' or whatever the terminology was. Sometimes I regretted taking so much time out of my life for things like this, but it was a part of the job. I could be nice to the press or let them eat me for lunch. It wasn't much of a choice. Bigger celebrities than me have to do it. Some even have to be nice to their stalkers. That thought makes me shudder.
"Lucky number thirteen," she said, the side of her mouth pulled up into a half smirk. "How do you find the time to juggle them all?"
"Time travel," I joked. My inner nerd was having way too much fun here. If I wasn't careful, I'd have to hand in my jock card. I held back a sigh. I'd always been frustrated with the perception that people can't be both. My ability to play football didn’t diminish because I liked comic books.
"Along with an unhealthy dose of Viagra," she said. "Are they all bikini models?"
I let out my sigh. "That old chestnut. Do you wear bikinis?" I hadn't meant the question to be provocative, but now it was out there, all I could do was imagine her in one. Maybe a red one, sheer and cut high across her thighs. The kind that tied up in the back. And untied there.
I swallowed, wanting to shake my head to dispel the thoughts swirling. We were at work, and these were decidedly not safe for work.
She gave me a look as though she knew exactly what I was thinking. From the way she glanced at my groin, she might have.
I cleared my throat and lowered my hands to my lap. No need to embarrass myself further.
"The point is, people are quick to judge," I said, my voice a little higher than usual.
"It's…hard," she drew out the word, "not to judge when photos are plastered all over the internet."
"Ever heard of Photoshop?" I asked. "I bet you're no saint."
"Sure I am," she joked. At least, Ithoughtshe was joking. No saint I'd ever heard of wore skin tight dresses or bright red lipstick that would be the perfect decoration for the base of my cock. If they did, I might have paid more attention when Grandma took me to church as a kid.
"Right. If you say so," I said, disbelieving. "Should we get back to the interview?"
"Who is replacing Coach Franks?" she asked without missing a beat.
"I'm not telling you," I shot back.
"I could name everyone on the coaching staff until your face reveals the answer."
"My poker face is flawless," I said. "Besides, I couldn't tell you if I wanted to. It's not up to me to say." That wasn't technically true. I told her about Lori. The truth was, I didn't want to talk about it, not yet, not to her. And not here.
"I'll tell you what." I cocked my head at her. "I'm sure you'll have questions after the press conference. How about we have dinner and you can ask them then? I might not be able to answer, but I'll try to. Better it come from me than be made up and spread everywhere."
Her eyes widened, those pretty lips parting in surprise. She glanced at me sideways, expression full of skepticism. "Why me?"
That was a good question. I wasn't certain myself. It had nothing to do with me thinking about her in a bikini, or out of one. Nope, no way, not at all. I knew her for a long time and I owed her one. This was my chance to repay it.
Yep, let's go with that.
"Why not you?" I replied with a shrug. "You either want the story, or you don't. Can you recommend someone who?—"
"Yes," she said firmly.
"Yes you can recommend someone?" I asked, deliberately misunderstanding.
She gave me another epic eye roll. "Yes, I'll have dinner with you. So we can talk about the future of the Humpbacks."
"Great. I'll meet you at Gianna's at seven." Gianna's did the best pasta and pizza in town, hands down.
Her eyebrows twitched. "I'll be there," she said.
