Page 43 of The Virgin Game Plan (Rules of Love 2)
Batting cleanup and cleaning up my media image? Josh is right. This is what I need to take my career to the next level.
“Thank you, sir.”
He leaves, and I vow not to think about his daughter.
Well, until the end of the game, at least.
And it works.
We win the first game. The next two games as well.
When I meet Reese on Saturday morning for coffee at the Ferry Building, I’m confident my baseball laser focus will serve me well.
But as I enter the terminal, my heart stops and stutters the second I see her.
Resistance is going to be so much harder than I’d thought.
16
Reese
Jillian knocks on my cube. “Knock, knock,” she says, flashing that bright grin she’s known for.
I swivel away from my laptop and the plan I’m developing for a shelter dog organization that works closely with football players.
“Hey, Jillian. How’s everything?”
“Fabulous. Especially since I just got a call from Nadia Harlowe.”
I sit up straighter, ears pricking with curiosity. “She owns the Hawks football team. She’s amazing. One of my heroines in sports.”
“She’s fantastic, a good friend of mine too. She said that her boyfriend asked if she could hook up a Dragons player with a press person. Then she mentioned that you were already meeting with Holden this weekend,” she says, like she’s fishing for more details, intrigued and curious.
I tense. Shoot. Am I not allowed to still do interviews? Jillian said when she hired me that she liked my podcast. She even raved about an episode with Asher St. James, the recently retired American soccer star who tore it up in the Champions League in Europe before he launched his second career as a high-end photographer. The man is the ultimate charmer, and on my podcast, he told me a dishy story about a date he’d gone on. So I hope Jillian hasn’t changed her mind. And I definitely hope I didn’t overstep when I offered to help Holden with some tips.
Tension swirls inside me, settling heavily in my gut. “Do you want me to cancel it? I saw him at the party last night, and I did an interview with him a few years ago, so I thought it’d be good to do a follow-up with where he’s at now. And then maybe give him some media tips.” I gulp, realizing my misstep. She probably doesn’t want me giving free advice. “But I can see that might be an issue, since he’s not a client. And I’m so sorry,” I say, contrition in my tone.
I’m on week one of the job, and I already messed up. Worry slides down my spine.
Jillian laughs, shaking her head, quickly dismissing my concerns. “Please. Don’t worry for a second. Both are fine. This is a tit-for-tat world. Have a cup of coffee, give some tips, yada yada. It’s great that you’re taking the initiative. Might lay the groundwork for a new client down the road, know what I mean?”
Ohhhhhh.
Perhaps I misread her excitement. “You want me to pitch Holden on becoming a client of the firm?” I ask, though the thought makes me queasy.
Banging a client is a definite no-no.
But you’re not banging him, silly. And you won’t be.
Jillian shrugs happily. “Don’t pitch him. Just do your thing. But you never know who might be a great fit if one of our organizations needs a spokesperson, you know? It’s good to know athletes for that reason. We can pair clients with the right athletes and the best nonprofits.”
I breathe a little easier. “Of course. That makes sense.”
But I also don’t breathe more easily.
Because on the flip side, isn’t she saying athletes are off-limits?
Nothing is going to happen with him, woman. Settle down.
She leaves, and an icky feeling descends on me, like I’m doing something wrong.
But is having feelings for him wrong?
No. Though doing something about those would be wrong.
Or it might be.
Might be wrong.
I do my best to set all my feelings aside when my father calls that evening to say that he won’t be able to take me to a game, because he’s now the manager. “I got the offer after we spoke yesterday. It all came together so quickly. Aren’t you excited for me? I finally got a job managing a team.”
“I’m so happy for you, Dad,” I say, like a trained marionette, a puppeteer moving my mouth.
“Can we meet on Sunday morning before our game? I’d like to introduce you to Becky.”
I agree reluctantly. I’ll have to do it eventually. Might as well rip off that bikini wax strip sooner rather than later.
When Saturday morning rolls around, I shower and shave my legs.
Not because anyone is going to see them.
Just because it’s time to shave.
That’s all.
Once I’m dried off, I put on an aqua-blue short-sleeve sweater, twinset-style.
Because I like it.
Not because it’s date attire.
It’s just me attire.
That’s all.
I blow-dry my hair, put on some blush and mascara, then grab my purse and a jacket.
