I’m still laughing when I glance over at the server. He doesn’t appear to be listening, but he’s still staring.
“How about some orange juice?” I ask, talking more to Stone than to the server.
“Orange juice and water, please,” Stone tells the guy, nodding toward the notepad and leaning closer to him. “It’s okay to write it down.”
I can’t help but watch Stone’s interaction with the twenty-something waiter who’s clearly starstruck. Stone’s teasing, but not at all condescending. It’s obvious the server is on the verge of a full-blown meltdown, but it doesn’t seem to faze Stone one bit.
“Yes, of course,” the young man says, scribbling it down. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
When he’s out of earshot, I lean closer to Stone. “And he’ll likely bring the entire kitchen staff with him.”
Those dimples appear and I’m momentarily mesmerized by them. I think that’s the only reason I don’t initially notice the slight blush that infuses Stone’s cheeks.
Well, now isn’t that interesting. A seasoned player still gets shy around fans.
Leaning back and unwrapping my silverware, I drop the napkin in my lap and nod in the direction the waiter went. “I assume that happens to you all the time?”
“Yeah,” he says, although it lacks any enthusiasm.
“Is that a bad thing?”
He meets my gaze. “It can prove to be…inconvenient at times.”
“I can understand that.” I glance around. There are several people pointing, a couple of them whispering loudly.
It’s only a matter of time before someone forgets their manners and drops by the table for a selfie.
“But, you just kinda get used to it,” he continues.
“Is that what this is?” I motion toward him. “You being used to it?”
Jason opens his menu, but doesn’t look away from my face.
“Try going out when I’m with my brother.” His smile is warm. “Talk about a traffic jam.”
I laugh. “That would be interesting to see.”
“My mother eats it up.”
“So she doesn’t mind that her boys are famous?”
“Are you kidding? If you meet her and you don’t know who we are, she’ll run down our stats and have you signed up for the NFL channel before she leaves your side.”
“Is she by chance looking for a job?” I’m only partially teasing. The woman sounds like a publicist’s dream.
“Be careful what you wish for.”
I chuckle. “I’m sure she’s completely charming.”
“Oh, she’s more than charming,” he says, and I can see the pride in his eyes. This man loves his mother and he’s not ashamed for people to know it.
Another thing I find myself liking about him.
“I remember when I was a kid. It was my fifth birthday and my mom took me to dinner and I saw Owen Smith, you know, the former running back for the Wranglers? Anyway, I saw him at the restaurant and I thought my mom had gotten him to go there because of me.” He laughs. “I was so excited, I couldn’t even eat.”
Okay, if he keeps that up, I’m going to have a really hard time finding anything to dislike about him.
“Most mothers would’ve thought it was cute. Not my mom. She took my hand, led me across the restaurant to where Smith was sitting, and made an introduction. Told him that my brother and I would one day be two of the NFL’s most valued players.”
I already love his mother and I haven’t even met her. “So you were into football since you were a kid?”
“Loved it. There was a group of kids in our neighborhood who would get together in the front yard across from ours and play every single day. They eventually invited my brother to play—he’s three years older than me. Never would let me be on a team, but I sat on my front porch and watched in awe.”
I can’t help but watch his face. The memories are clearly good ones for him.
I tap him with my foot. “Bet those guys have been kicking themselves in the ass since you went pro. Probably thinkin’, hey, I should’ve been nicer to that kid.”
Stone smiles and his eyes brighten. “I don’t know about all that. Their claim to fame is the fact that they played touch football with Jeremy.”
“So, where’d you grow up?”
The server returns at that moment with two glasses of orange juice and two glasses of water.
“Are you ready to order?”
I realize I haven’t even looked at the menu, so I quickly glance down, then up at Stone. “You know what you want?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Go ahead,” I tell him. “I’ll figure it out in the meantime.”
“I’ll take the Fit Slam,” he says. “Times two.”
I instantly glance down to find it and smile as I read: egg whites scrambled together with fresh spinach and grape tomatoes, plus two turkey bacon strips, an English muffin, and seasonal fruit.
Jason Stone makes healthy choices. Granted, I’m sure he has all sorts of clauses in his contract stating how much weight he can and cannot gain during the season. However, as a veteran, he’s probably figured out how to play the system. Nonetheless, it gives me an idea for a photo opportunity. I mentally jot it down for later.
“And throw in a couple of extra slices of bacon. Not turkey bacon either.”
“Yes, sir,” the guy says, his eyes wide.
I look up at the waiter. “I’ll have the same. Single though. Not double. And without the extra bacon.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m impressed,” I tell Stone when the waiter leaves. “You didn’t do that because of me, though, did you?”
Another blush steals over his face. “No. I…uh…” He grins sheepishly. “Let’s just say, I wasn’t a small kid.”
“No?”
“God, no. Big as a house by the time I was eight.” He shakes his head. “Not because my mother didn’t try either. She certainly did. But I ate everything I could get my hands on. It wasn’t until seventh grade when I started playing football for school that I shed all that weight. Knew at that point that I wasn’t one of those guys who could eat whatever I wanted and still run down the field.”
As I sit here looking at this wildly attractive, devastatingly charming man, I realize that taking on this job might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
And it has nothing to do with befriending him either.
No, my issue is likely going to be how to manage to keep my clothes on when I’m around him.
Chapter 12
Stone
Don’t ask me what it is about Savannah that makes me want to run off at the mouth, because I couldn’t tell you. Perhaps it’s the way her eyes light up whenever I say something. Or maybe it’s the genuine interest I can see on her face. Whatever it is, I can’t seem to stop.
“So, back to my original question,” Savannah says after sipping her juice. “Where’d you grow up?”
“Here,” I admit. “Well, not right here. Irving, to be precise.”
“So, not far from the practice facility,” she says.
I nod. “My mother’s still there, still living in the house I grew up in. The first thing my brother did when he got his first signing bonus was pay it off for her.”
“And what did you do with your first signing bonus?”
“I had a pool installed for her.”
I like the way her smile widens.
“She loves that place and we knew she’d balk if we ever offered to buy her a new house. So, we’ve had to be discreet in our efforts to give her what she deserves.”
Savannah’s eyes warm and the effect it has on me is something I can’t explain.
“And you went to the University of
Alabama?”
“Football scholarship. Couldn’t pass it up.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” The way her green eyes lock on my face has my palms starting to sweat. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time a woman made me nervous.
“Was it just you, your brother, and your mom?”
I nod. “My father left when I was two. She divorced him and sold the house. Took the money and bought a smaller house, one she could easily afford on her own.”
I can tell she’s waiting for me to elaborate. Generally, I don’t verbally vomit up my life story, but, like I said, I can’t seem to stop.
“My father was a long-haul truck driver. Met a woman while he was out on the road. Left us for her and moved to Ohio. We didn’t see him but maybe twice after that. He got married, had a few kids with her. From what I heard, he left her a few years ago for another woman.”
“Asshole,” Savannah mutters, shuddering. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“No worries. You won’t get any arguments from me.” I take a sip of juice, swallow. “And you? I’ve met your father and brothers. Is your mother in the picture?”
Although Aaron Andrews is in the public eye, I know he’s done a good job of keeping his family details on the down low. After all, I knew plenty about the man, but I never realized he even had a daughter.
Savannah shakes her head. “Not really, no. She pops in from time to time. She left when I was seven, said her modeling career was on the verge of expiring. Didn’t have time to sit at home with children and a husband.”
I lean forward. “Do modeling careers expire?”
She smiles and it’s so sweet, I have to sit up straight. “Hers did long before then, but she was the only one who didn’t realize it.”
“And your father never remarried?”
“Nope. He says he’s married to the team and that’s enough for him.”
“Another reason marriage licenses should come with warning labels,” I joke, recalling our conversation from the other night.
“Oh, I still believe in love. One day, I’ll find the man of my dreams, settle down in a house with a white picket fence, get a dog, maybe have a couple of kids.”
“Really?” That is not the impression I got from our conversation at her father’s party.
She laughs this time, a robust sound that goes straight to my dick. I love when she laughs like that. Guttural and genuine, not to mention, sexy as all get-out.
“Not on your life. I’m all for bein’ single. Especially right now. With my career in full swing, I have no time for dating or any of the nonsense that comes with a relationship.”
“Who’s the jaded one now?”
Her grin widens. “Touché.” She moves her silverware around on the table. “So, tell me. Is there a reason you’re looking to retire next year?”
I shrug.
I knew at some point this was going to turn to business. It is the reason we’re here, I suppose.
“Right now, I’m focused on this year. I don’t know what’s in store for me next year.”
Her eyebrows lift and it appears she wants to say something, but her lips flatten and she nods.
I swipe my finger down the orange juice glass. “Tell me this. Do you know what’s on your agenda for next year?”
Her eyes remain steady on mine. “No.”
“Well, then you know exactly where I’m at right now. I’m thinking no farther than the meal that’s about to be delivered. After that, I’ll probably concern myself with the team meeting, then some time with my trainer. I don’t want to look any further out than that, to be honest.”
Savannah chuckles. “Point taken.”
The server chooses that moment to deliver our food, so I sit back while he sets the plates down.
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
I glance at Savannah. She shakes her head.
“No, I think we’re good right now. Thanks.”
“Sure. I’ll be back shortly.”
Savannah motions toward my food with her fork. “You’re really gonna eat all that?”
“Absolutely. And I’ll likely eat in another couple of hours, too.”
“I take it that’s a big deal for you.”
“Let’s just say, I’ve learned over time that I have to eat consistently to stay in shape. The older I get, the harder it is to do though.”
Another chuckle escapes her. “Thirty-four isn’t old.”
“Maybe not, but playing football turns human years into dog years. Seven for every one. At least that’s how my body feels most of the time.”
Her eyes are bright and she’s smiling.
“What does a normal day’s menu consist of?”
“As much protein as possible.”
“No fast food?”
I groan. “Since fast food is far cheaper to eat than healthy food, we ate it a lot when I was growing up. And yes, I ate more than my fair share. To the point, I’ll avoid it at all costs now.”
“I’m not a fan either,” she says. “But my nephew…Boy, he’s all about McDonald’s right now.”
I smile. “My niece isn’t quite to an age where solid food is even a possibility, but I’m sure she’ll be singing their praises at some point, too.”
For a few minutes, we eat in silence. The sounds of people chattering around us isn’t enough to distract me from watching her though.
She catches me and reaches for her napkin, dabbing her mouth. “Do I have jelly on my face?”
I shake my head. “Nah. I’m just admiring how much you seem to enjoy food.”
“I enjoy a lot of things,” she answers, her eyes meeting mine and holding long enough to have warmth fizzing in my veins.
I can tell right now, there’s a line between business and pleasure and there’s no way I’m going to spend any time with this woman without crossing it. Hell, I’m going to obliterate that line if at all possible.
“Do you have a problem talkin’ to kids?” The question is so far out of left field, it throws me. I have to think about that for a minute.
Before I can answer, she starts talking again.
“What I was thinkin’ is maybe we could get you to go back to your elementary school. Perhaps get you in front of a class of kids. Like during PE or something. You can talk about healthy choices, exercise, things like that.”
“Do you realize how long it’s been since I went to elementary school?”
“Are you saying you’re old?”
“Hell, no,” I say with a grin. Although yes, that is what I’m saying.
“I’m just thinking out loud,” she says. “Sorry. It’s what I do. When I find an opportunity, I can’t help but pursue it. And I get the feeling you’re really good with kids.” She holds up her fork, her eyes widening with what I assume is excitement. “What if I could get some kids to come to the field? They’d probably get a kick outta that.”
I nod. “Whatever you wanna do. You’re the PR guru. I’m just along for the ride.”
“Good. We’ll talk some more about it, see what we can come up with.” Savannah points her fork at me. “Oh, and before I forget, make sure I get your cellphone number before we leave. That way I can talk to you directly.”
“I already gave you my number,” I tell her, watching her face to see her reaction.
“I…uh…”
I grin. “You threw away my number?”
Why that makes me like her even more, I don’t know.
“I didn’t plan to call you.”
“No?” I lean forward. “Not even for a booty call?”
“Especially not for a booty call.”
I sit up, still smiling. “Fair enough. But what about now? Would you ca
ll me for a booty call now?”
Her eyebrows dart down. “Of course not.”
Well, that was better than a hell no.
My brain screams Score! but thankfully my mouth says, “So, maybe?”
“I was trying to be nice. What I meant to say was, not on your life.” The smile that follows says she’s not exactly serious.
As I fork more egg whites into my mouth, I can’t stop staring at Savannah. More importantly, I can’t help but wonder how I got so fucking lucky all of a sudden.
Whatever the reason, I hope like hell it’s not going to run out any time soon.
Savannah
After breakfast, I dropped Stone back off at the practice facility, then decided I’d take a half day. Not because I had anything specific I needed to take care of, but my father’s plan has thrown me into a bit of turmoil and I need some time to think this through.
Spending time with Stone made me feel incredibly guilty about this plan, and I’m not sure I can go through with it. I mean, it’s not like I’m doing anything really wrong. It’s not like I’m going to develop a relationship with Stone or anything. I’m merely supposed to talk to him, see what his take is on his future. At least, that’s all I’ve promised my father and brother. If they want to pursue him for the future, that’s on them. I’m simply going to get a feel for what he’s looking to do beyond this year.
However, I’m not above making this mutually beneficial for the team as well as for Stone. It’s not often that I’ve got such a prominent, highly regarded player at my fingertips. The notion of getting some press coverage is not something I’m willing to let slip through my fingers. And as long as Stone is willing, who am I hurting?
I grab my MacBook and lift the lid, then pull up my Internet search browser.
I want to do this right. I want to make Stone shine like the incredible man that he is. And since this very well could be his last year on the field, I’m going to get him in front of as many people as I possibly can. In order to do that, I need to do some research, find out what he’s been saying and see if I can understand why.
Half an hour into my search, I find myself transfixed by the chat rooms I’ve found that are dedicated to talking solely about Jason Stone. I’m not sure if he even knows this, but he has an unofficial fan club. And it consists of thousands of fans, not only Wranglers fans, either. It seems he’s a hit in the fantasy football realm.
Bad Business Page 11
