by Teagan Kade
“My dad was small-time. He quit when I was a baby. He loved it, though. Taught me everything I know.”
I rested my arms across the back of the booth. Talking shop was an easy topic. I was delighted to hear Tori had an interest in my chosen profession that extended beyond the average person’s knowledge of the sport. “You’ll have to show me your moves sometime.”
Although it hadn’t been my intention to slide more innuendo into the conversation, I couldn’t help but grin when I heard the words in the air and saw her widened eyes.
“My moves are irrelevant,” she said tersely, gulping down a large sip of wine.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I said. I noticed a slight flush across her cheeks. Perhaps my icy PR agent wasn’t as immune to me as she wanted me to believe.
When the waiter appeared next to my elbow to take our order, I thought Tori looked relieved. After he left, I was eager to turn the conversation back to Tori’s moves, but she had other plans as she turned the conversation.
“I have an appointment with Nigel in the morning to review your upcoming schedule,” she said, all business again. “Normally I’ll tee up different options and run them through him. The two of you can decide which ones make the most sense given your other commitments. I’ll handle all the bookings and subsequent press inquiries. You can stay focused on your training. Once we get a few months of positive PR under our belts, the rest of the stories from the past should fade away.”
“Sounds too good to be true. I wish you had been around during Rio.”
Tori’s expression was unreadable. “I think you handled Rio as best you could considering the circumstances. The trick is making sure Rio doesn’t happen for real all over again. I’m assuming you plan on making boxing your career for the foreseeable future?”
“I do,” I wanted to kick myself. Why had I decided to bring that up? I wanted everyone to forget what happened so badly, but it felt like the elephant in the room. “I don’t have any underlying issues, if that’s what you’re asking. I can control my temper. All of those other things have been blown way out of proportion.”
“I understand.” She looked away from me. Her gaze took in the entire restaurant. “But they don’t, so we have to make them see you aren’t who they have perceived you to be since that happened. So smile. Keep your nose clean. It will be easy. I promise.”
This time, the smile on my face felt fake and wrong, but I lodged it in place. Tori deftly moved the conversation to more benign questions about my past. She said it was information she needed to make sure she could pull the right emotional strings.
By the end of the meal I realized Tori probably knew more about me than Nigel or Hammer, yet I still knew next to nothing about her. I insisted on picking up the check using the excuse it was a business expense. She could hardly argue that.
I couldn’t help but put my hand on the small of her back to guide her out of the restaurant. I thought I felt her shiver beneath my touch. She was close enough I could smell the sea-breeze smell of her hair again. I wanted to bury my nose in it and find the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck, perhaps turn that shiver into a full-blown tidal wave.
Tori moved away from me as soon as we stepped onto the sidewalk. “My car’s here,” she said pointing to the same sedan I’d seen earlier that day.
“How about a night cap back at my place?” I offered.
She shook her head with a soft smile. “We’ve gotten as friendly as we’re going to get, Shaun. This is it.”
“What good is a rule if it can’t be broken on occasion?” I asked. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew what she was thinking. I was thinking the same thing. The inadvertent memory of Rio shot up between us. Everything might have gone down in my favor, but I had broken a pretty big rule that almost cost me everything.
She frowned. “Thank you for dinner, Shaun. I’ll be in touch.”
I shut the door behind her and waited for the car to drive away. I pulled my sport coat tighter to block the cool evening air. I could walk home. Hopefully by the time I got there, I wouldn’t need a cold shower.
Chapter Five
Tori
“I’ve told you I’ll get back to you, Ms. Ellis. Calling me ten times a day doesn’t endear me to you, by the way.” The male voice on the other end of the phone was smarmy and self-assured in a way that made my blood boil.
“I would be happy to stop calling if you or Shaun simply called me back, or even sent me an email about which of these events he wants to do,” I said, tapping my pen on the top of the desk. “I need to be able to do my job.”
“What exactly is your job again?” Nigel asked.
So far, Nigel Ross had proved to be extremely difficult to work with. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. I had made it clear from our initial introduction my only interest was ensuring Shaun’s public face was positive so there wouldn’t be any further issues with his sponsors. That made Nigel’s life easier in the long run too, so it didn’t make any sense why the guy was being such a dick to me. I figured it had to be because I was a woman. I ran into that more often than I liked, working in the inner circle with athletes’ entourages.
I rubbed my fingers along the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath. Time to try another tack. “Nigel, I want Shaun to be successful. You want Shaun to be successful. We’re on the same team here. If Shaun can just pick one event a week from the list I sent over that fits into his schedule, that’s better than nothing. I just need something to work with.”
“Shaun is ramping up for his next fight. It’s in less than two weeks. He doesn’t have time for any of this high-brow charity nonsense,” Nigel responded, tone snide.
“I picked several charities I know Shaun would be interested in supporting,” I said. “His father is a recovering alcoholic who has been sober for ten years. His sister was diagnosed with leukemia when she was eight and has been in remission for the last nine years. He had a friend in high school who suffered from severe depression and committed suicide. Any one of these causes would be delighted to have the support of an Olympic gold medalist and have an event scheduled here locally in the next week. It would only be a few hours, and I’ll do what I can to work it around his training schedule.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree at the wrong time, Ms. Ellis. Maybe after the next fight. Look, I have another appointment at the top of the hour. We can speak again in a few weeks.” The other end of the phone went dead.
I stared at my phone in disbelief. The prick hung up on me. I leaned back in my chair and sighed. I heard a knock on my door. Kevin Shaffer, my colleague and best friend, stuck his head inside. “Bad time?”
I waved him in. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
He dropped into the chair across from me and glanced at the paperwork sprawled across my desk. “How’s boxer boy going?”
“At a standstill,” I said as I started gathering up the documents and tried to put them in some semblance of order. “So far I’ve had zero luck getting him to agree to any appearances, and I’ve found some good ones—high-visibility events that would set him up well before his next fight.”
“That guy seems like a loaded cannon if you ask me,” Kevin said. “And what about that story from Tulsa? The roofies? Guy must have been pretty desperate to resort to those kinds of measures. Maybe he has a problem in the bedroom.”
I loved Kevin, but he was also the office gossip. It was a good thing we all had confidentiality agreements in place for our clients.
“I don’t think he has any problems in that arena,” I said, clearing my throat.
He leaned forward in his chair. “Oh my. Have you finally broken your precious ethical rules and gone in for a closer look at the merchandise?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him. “It isn’t just an ethical rule I made up. It is an actual rule of employment here, remember?”
Kevin waved it off. “Rules are meant to be broken.” I could only guess how
many times Kevin had broken the one in question. He was only limited by the number of gay clients Kommen and Russell had at any given point in time.
“He did flirt with me. At least, I think it was an attempt at flirting,” I admitted.
“Tell me everything,” Kevin said with a dramatic flourish as he leaned closer to my desk. “The man is gorgeous, and you are a hottie. Of course he’d flirt with you. Otherwise, he’s either dead… or gay. Do you think he might be gay?”
I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of my chest. “If the way I caught him checking out my cleavage the other night was any indication, I think you’re out of luck, Kevin.”
“Damn,” he said with a sigh. “His eyes are so pretty.” He picked up the 8x10 slick from my desk and stared at it with a longing look. “Did you flirt back at least? There are no rules about flirting, right?”
“No, I did not flirt back,” I said, swiping the picture out of his hands and tucking it back into my file folder. “I am not going to lead anyone on. But he’s sweet in an awkward kind of way. He doesn’t like talking much, I think. It took every bit of my Q&A charm to pry details out of him the other night at dinner. Most guys love to talk about themselves, but not Shaun.”
“Dinner? You had dinner with the hot boxer? That doesn’t sound like it was entirely on the straight and narrow, Tori. Hate to tell you, but you like him.”
“I like him as a client. I don’t like him like him.
“Oh, you like him A LOT,” Kevin said, standing up. “If I know you, you’re doing the typical avoid-and-conquer routine by working everything through his agent instead of just talking to him directly.”
“I don’t want to bother him, so I’m being respectful of his time. He’s a busy man with a lot on his plate at the moment.”
Kevin shook his head. “It’s you he wants on his plate, legs spread wide. If he’s flirting with you, he likes you. So, if you aren’t going to fuck him, at least use those emotions to your advantage to get your job done. Call him and pitch your ideas directly. Lead him around by his dick wherever you want him to go.”
I shook my head. “Kevin, I’m not going to lead him anywhere by anything.” I swiveled my chair around to put the file in the drawer behind me. Really, it was so Kevin couldn’t see the flush of color heating my cheeks. He laughed, and I saw out of the corner of my eye that he was headed toward the door.
“You’re all hot and bothered over this guy. It’s almost too easy getting a rise out of you. But trust me. Call him. He hired you, remember? Not his agent. Get him to do what you need him to do.”
Once Kevin was gone, I thought about what he’d said. I didn’t want to admit he’d hit the issue so squarely on the head. I had been avoiding interacting with Shaun directly because I was afraid he was going to see right through me and realize how attracted I was to him. And since he didn’t seem to be as interested as I was in keeping our relationship strictly business, it was less risky to use Nigel as my conduit to him.
I tapped my pen against the top of the desk again and stared at the phone.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Tori. Get a grip,” I said to myself aloud. “He’s just a guy. It’s not like he can make your panties wet when he isn’t even in the same room.”
I opened the file and found Shaun’s cell phone number. I dialed it before I could change my mind. When he answered a moment later with a sultry hello, I realized I was wrong; Shaun’s presence wasn’t required to make my panties melt.
“Shaun, it’s Tori.”
“Tori. Hi.” Hearing him say my name made my insides warm. There was an intimacy about it that all of my body parts responded to. “Can I call you back? I’ve got to finish getting ready for this interview. Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to smile the entire time. I promise.”
“What interview?” I did a quick scan of my documents, but I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t have anything scheduled for him at all.
“The Sports Most Eligible Bachelor magazine thing? You scheduled it for me, right?” Shaun’s earlier confidence immediately turned to a note of anxiety.
“Of course,” I said, recovering quickly. “What was the address again? I don’t have it in my phone. That’s actually why I was calling. I’m running a few minutes late.”
Shaun rattled off the address. I quickly scratched it down grabbing my briefcase. “If you can stall for a few minutes until I get there, that would be great. We should do a few minutes of prep before you start.”
“I’ll do what I can,” he said. “But these guys run a tight ship.”
I tapped the screen to end the call and ran for the elevators. The address was only a few blocks away, so my bluff would still work out in my favor.
I did a quick search of the magazine he mentioned while I was in the car and scrolled through several of the past year’s profiles. It didn’t take me long to assess they were all complete fluff with no substance and not something I would have chosen for him at all. It didn’t take a genius to figure out I’d been bypassed. The most likely suspect? Nigel.
“Goddamn prick,” I swore under my breath. I made a few notes and quickly gathered my thoughts. By the time the driver opened my door at the address, I’d even found time to powder my nose and reapply my lipstick.
I found Shaun in a make-up chair once I was ushered into the office. He smiled at me in the reflection of the glass without turning around. My shoulders relaxed just a smidge. It was crazy the effect he had on me.
“Right on time,” he said. “They’re going to start with me in this get-up. Do you approve?” I did a quick once-over. Shaun was dressed in a pair of boxing shorts and a gray hoodie with Team USA’s logo across the back. Every inch of his chiseled abs were on display. I quickly averted my eyes before they settled any lower.
“Perfect,” I said with a tight smile. I turned to the make-up artist. “Can you give us a minute?” She scurried away, probably used to being told to disappear.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Shaun, I want you to be careful about how you respond to any questions during your interview. We haven’t had a chance to practice a script yet, and I haven’t seen the questions. The reporter must have forgotten to forward them to me.” Another white lie that ultimately, hopefully, would be harmless. It was more important Shaun felt complete confidence I had the situation under control. There was no need for him to know I didn’t.
“Well, I thought it was an interview, but it’s just photos today,” Shaun said.
“Are you sure?” I looked at the agenda the receptionist had handed me upon admittance. “There’s a reporter listed as one of the people here during the shoot.”
Shaun seemed unconcerned. “I’ve done this stuff a million times, Tori. Print interviews are a piece of cake.”
“They’re ready for you, Mr. Nichols.” A tiny blonde appeared out of nowhere and beckoned Shaun to follow her.
Shaun got up. His fingertips brushed my shoulder, causing me to forget my name for a second. “Relax. I won’t mess up.”
I had no choice but to bring up the rear of the small entourage. As we entered the space being used for the photo shoot, I saw one section had been roped off to appear like it was a boxing ring. There was another section that imitated a casual restaurant environment. The last space was decorated to look like an opera box.
“So you like opera, huh?” I said with a sarcastic tone, wondering who in the hell built these ‘Bachelor’ profiles. It seemed to feed into every women’s perfect fantasy ideal of what a guy like Shaun would be like to date… And sleep with.
“My favorite is Don Giovanni,” Shaun said. He must have caught my shocked expression because he snorted. “Yeah, I’m a lot deeper than boxing and booze.”
“I didn’t…” my voice trailed off. Shaun stepped closer to me. I was forced to bend my neck backward to look up into his eyes. The outfit he wore was working like a charm. He was coming across as buff, virile… all man. A man who couldn’t be ignored.
“Don’t judge thin
gs at face value. That’s why I hired you to help me, right?” he said in a low tone, leaning closer to my ear.
Holy shit. He hadn’t even touched me and I felt an electric shock to my pussy. Every nerve ending of my body was alive and anticipating… something. I didn’t even know what that something was, but I wasn’t going to miss it.
“Shaun.” A familiar and unwelcome voice cut through the haze of desire that had settled across my body. I took a step backward and tried to appear composed and professional even though my legs felt like jelly.
“Nigel,” Shaun said. His gaze still held mine, and I saw the tiniest curl of his lip that told me he was aware of his effect on me. Damn him. “You’ve met Tori, right?”
As Shaun turned, the object of my earlier annoyance came into view. It was the first time I’d seen Nigel in person. He was exactly what I expected. Medium height. Medium build with a paunch he couldn’t hide despite his expensive three-piece suit. A horrible dye job that showed his graying roots and a comb-over that would do Donald Trump proud. I disliked him immediately.
I stuck out my hand, determined to be the better person. “Just over the phone. Not in person. Victoria Ellis,” I said, plastering a fake smile across my face.
“Of course,” Nigel said, shaking my hand. It felt as if I were shaking a limp fish. “I didn’t expect you here today.” Which was code for what the fuck are you doing here?
“I wouldn’t miss it. Such a big, important article for Shaun,” I said in a sharp tone I hoped sent the message I thought this was a bunch of bullshit.
I sensed Shaun was watching the banter in confusion. “It looks like the photographer is ready for you, Shaun. You should probably get to it,” Nigel said.
Shaun nodded. “Okay. It shouldn’t be long.”
I waved at him. “We’re fine. We have a few things to discuss anyway.”
Shaun moved over to the photographer. I watched as he leaned down to hear the directions for his first pose. He was so big, but he was light on his feet and moved with balanced grace. I didn’t think I would ever get tired of watching him.
