Page 4 of Ruff and Tumble

“The weather?” he prodded. “The fall of the Romans? You’ve got to give me something, or this is going to be a long drive.”

Hailey began tapping her foot. Maybe this was part of the prank. Maybe they were going to record her asking Cole Bennett his thoughts on fading democracies and then play it back to her for the rest of her working life.

“It’s too bad you aren’t a football fan, or we could always fall back on that,” he mused, running a hand along his jaw. When shestillcouldn’t manage to dislodge the lump in her throat far enough to form a coherent sentence, he gave in with a nod. “I always abide by lady’s choice. Complete silence it is, then.”

She could hear the receptionist clucking his disapproval in the distance, but she didn’t take offense at it. Truth be told, she was disappointed in herself. This was probably the only opportunity she’d ever have to talk to a professional football player face-to-face. It was the sort of thing that she and her father had once only dreamed of, and she was wasting it.

She managed to uncleave her tongue long enough to say, “If it’sreallylady’s choice…”

Cole nodded his encouragement, his smile so friendly and warm and real that something in Hailey unhinged.

“If you don’t mind shop talk, then what I’d like to know is why you’ve been taking so many unnecessary hits this season,” she said. “I’m not sure if it’s an issue with your confidence or your arm, but you’re never going to break the Kickoff Cup Curse if you don’t do something about it.”

She realized, too late, what she’d said—and who she’d said it to.

She slapped her hand over her mouth, but a look of shock had already caused Cole’s unnaturally blue eyes to open wide. Even Bess sensed that Hailey had flung herself headfirst over a line, because the dog gave a small whine and tried to hide her head.

“I’m so sorry,” Hailey said from behind her hand. “I can’t believe I said that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Cole said, his voice slightly strangled. “You’re absolutely right.”

She was, but that didn’t make it okay. Especially since she’d said the name of the curse out loud. You weren’t even supposed to mention it in private, insecret. To say it to the face of the one man who had the power to break it was downright dangerous. Her dad had probably rolled over in his grave.

“To be honest, I’m just glad you know who I am,” Cole added. The strangled note was still there, but Hailey could have sworn it was verging on laughter. Not outrage. Not incredulity.Laughter.“I was beginning to fear you’d never heard of me.”

Hailey was deciding whether to carry Bess down the stairs as a means of escape when the elevator gave a cheerful ding. She prepared to jump in and hide herself in the corner as fast as humanly possible, but the doors slid open to reveal the slightly harassed face of her boss.

Jasmine Jones was, without a doubt, an exceptional person to work for. The woman produced no fewer than two dozen television shows every year, most of which won awards and were watched by millions of viewers. She was always immaculate, always precise, and always polite. Hailey sometimes dreamed of what it would be like to be her—to know what to say in every situation, to issue a command with so much confidence that no one dared do anything but their best to carry it out.

It also would have been nice to look that much like Kerry Washington and to wear white pantsuits that never got a speck of dirt on them, but Hailey had never been one to wish for what she couldn’t have.

“Hailey, thank goodness.” Jasmine put a hand up to prevent the elevator doors from closing. Her voice was cool and rich, and Hailey could feel her spine straightening under the power of it. “I need you to pick up my blue dress from the dry cleaners and take it to the tailor on Third. They should have a copy of my measurements on hand, but if they don’t, you’ll have to get them from the tailor on First. You know the one.”

Hailey could only nod. The rest of her was frozen in place, trying hard not to look as though there was a dog panting heavily at her feet and a football player looming just as heavily over her shoulder.

“Good. After that, if you could pick up the lunch order I put in at Thai Garden and set it up for the meeting at the main office, I’d really appreciate it. The head honchos always approve my changes faster if I feed them. You’ll need to be back here for the light test at three, but that shouldn’t be a problem if you hurry.” Jasmine noticed the first of Hailey’s two companions and blinked. “Oh. You brought the dog with you to work. Again.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Hailey said, wincing. She knew very well that Jasmine minded, but her boss would never stoop to say so. To do so would be unprofessional, and that was the one thing Jasmine was incapable of. “It’s just that she’s been really restless the past couple of nights, and I was worried—”

“It’s my fault.”

The elevator doors had begun buzzing a protest by this time, so Cole stepped forward and took Jasmine by the hand. He somehow managed to pull her out and perform a handshake at the same time and without giving the appearance of doing anything more than politely introducing himself.

“You’re Jasmine Jones,” he added with a smile that brought his dimple out full force. It was the same move he’d made with Hailey—the smile and the foreknowledge of her name, a built-in friendliness that was almost overpowering in its design. “I can’t tell you what a fan I am of your work. That miniseries you did last year highlighting the corruption of college sports was phenomenal.”

“Oh my.” For the first time in the six years that Hailey had been working for Jasmine, her boss showed signs of being in a flutter. She blinked several times in rapid succession before lifting her hand to her chest. Toying with the top button of her blouse, she said, “Mr. Bennett. I can hardly believe it. To what do we owe the honor?”

Cole’s smile deepened, and he caught Hailey’s eye just long enough to wink. “This girl right here,” he said. Before Hailey could protest at being referred to as anything less than a woman, he added, “The dog, I mean. I hope you don’t mind me stealing her away like this, but we’d like to get her looked at. We’re worried about toxemia.”

“Toxemia?” Jasmine echoed blankly.

“I didn’t know dogs could get it, either,” Cole admitted. “But as soon as Hailey mentioned it, I could see she was right. I’m taking them both to the vet.”

Jasmine accepted this explanation for Cole’s presence with aplomb. Hailey could tell her boss was burning with questions—most of which Hailey shared—but nothing would prevail upon Jasmine to admit it. Instead, she directed a perfectly arched brow at Hailey.

“If you were worried about the dog’s health, you should have said something earlier.”

Hailey shrugged, knowing the line was just for show. Despite producing the Puppy Cup every year—their company’s most profitable show by a large margin—Jasmine wasn’t a dog person. Fostering an animal was a foreign concept to her. Fostering apregnantanimal was even stranger. Hailey still shuddered when she remembered what had happened when she’d tried to apply for a few days of maternity leave.