Page 18 of He Has Charm

“Fuck yeah, but not that hotel room shit. How can you stand drinking it?”

“Look who’s the princess now,” I say. He grunts on his way past me, but his one-dimpled, lopsided grin shows up and gives me a satisfying sensation, right in the gut. Not like the nerve-tingling excitement from before. This is softer and kinder and totally unexpected.

And possibly even more dangerous than the sizzling, sexy vibe. Shit.

“Let’s go then.”

“You drink your coffee black?” I nod in answer to his question as we leave the room.

We stop at the lobby coffee shop and he gets a shake and a pastry, which doesn’t surprise me. It does surprise me when he orders me a black coffee.

“Something to eat?” he asks. I shake my head, feeling disoriented at his kind yet ordinary gesture.

“I don’t eat until lunchtime.” He raises his eyebrows.

“That’s just not right. How do you keep up your strength?” I chuckle.

“Not everyone is a professional athlete burning ten thousand calories a day, Knight.” We push through the revolving door together and it’s tight, but he manages the maneuver gracefully without stumbling and we get into a waiting cab. It’s a short drive. He sucks down his shake in under a minute. He takes a bite of his pastry and looks at me, because I’m rudely watching him eat.

“Sorry,” I say and turn away.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you. How about a bite?” I turn back and he holds the pastry out close to my mouth.

“No thanks. Really, I’m not hungry. I…” But I can’t tell him I was staring because he’s beautiful to watch, not because I wanted his food. In fact, I want him for food. Shit.

He nods. Then he smirks and devours the rest of the pastry as if he knows I’m imagining it’s me he’s eating. When he licks each finger, his blazing blue eyes arrowed on mine as if he’s sending me a sensual message, I nearly moan. We arrive at the Garden in the nick of time and I jump from the taxi, letting him pay when I should be paying. But I rush through the door. I need to escape him. But it’s me and my overwrought hormones I need to escape.

* * *

At the rink

I hadn’t planned to stay, but there’s something about an empty ice rink that makes me linger—the hollowness up to the rafters, the cold air swirling on the surface, and the peace that forces my imagination to fill it all with images. So I follow him inside the dark hallway and take a left toward the ice, where I’m surprised at the presence of members of the press. Including my nemesis Nora Olak. Shit. I always try to avoid talking to her, but she never fails to track me down, as if she thinks I’m stupid enough to repeat that one mistake I made literally the first day on my job where I spilled a private detail of a not-to-be-named client’s contract. It was a flat-out wondrous miracle to me that Jett didn’t fire me on the spot that day. Because he didn’t, he’s become nearly heroic in my mind and I will bestow on him my firstborn—if I ever have kids, which I doubt I will.

As I scan the various clusters of people milling about, I spot Ham and rush over to him, firm ground in my shook-up world. He breaks away from the man he was talking to when he sees me and I settle in next to him.

“Did you know the press was going to be at this morning’s skate?” A cloud of air puffs from my mouth in the cold.

“No. But if the team doesn’t go out of their way to announce a closed practice, an ambitious reporter might show up to milk the story about the new guy, which is apparently what happened. I only stopped by on the way to management’s office for a quick meeting. Make sure you stay and monitor the narrative. Don’t let him talk except in one-syllable words.”

“Will do.”

“And one other thing,” my boss says, pulling us aside to talk. “We can cancel the apartment hunt. The meeting is about where Knight will be staying and, by default, where you’ll be staying. The team is making available that townhouse they own in Beacon Hill not far from the Garden. You can both stay there until the end of the season. You’ll move in tomorrow.”

“It’s a good-sized place and the cost has been factored into his compensation. You okay being roommates with Knight for the next four months?” I nod and he nods back.

“And just to warn you, I wouldn’t put it past that ballbuster Mary Delaney in PR to stop in and make sure there are no wild parties now and then since she lives in the neighborhood. In fact, Rafe doesn’t live far and I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t keep an eye on you, too.”

“Great—then let them babysit Knight. What do they need us for?” My desperation for money has me kicking myself for the comment.

“Look, Harper, bottom line is this is your assignment because we’ve been contracted to do it, and we can’t go back on it even if the Brawlers are using us as a potential scapegoat if things go south. They’re making a big investment in Knight and he’s a risk so this is their failsafe clause. I wish I could tell you that if you don’t want the job, I can find someone else who will take your place.” He heaves a sigh. “But I can’t.”

“I know you’re counting on me. I’m counting on me too.” I stop short of telling him how much I need the bonus. My chest feels like it’s being squeezed tight. I look away to gather myself because I can’t admit to Ham the reason for my desperate money. Dad’s old gambling debt is the kind of thing the agency doesn’t want to be associated. Gambling is a big no-no in this business and any whiff of that would be deadly t omy career. And I love my career, going to games, meeting all the players, the owners, spending time at the arenas all across the country.

Next to playing hockey, it’s a dream job and I’m living it. Plus, after I get this bonus at the end of the season I’ll be able to pay off the last of the gambling debt and put that financial disaster behind us. Then maybe I’ll be able to start mourning my dad or think about him again as he used to be.

Maddox skates by on the other side of the boards and I tell myself it’ll be fine. He’ll be on best behavior and of course I don’t want to lose this job with my dream agency just when I’m on the cusp of reaching the place I’ve been striving and scraping for, full agent status. I square my shoulders and turn back to Jett.

“I’ll get us to the end of the season intact.” My words are confident as if I’m in the negotiating room and Jett grins. “You’ll be so pleased you may want to promote me ahead of schedule,” I say, because I see the angle. He laughs.