The Player Gets Coached

by Janet Nissenson

  She looked away immediately when he made eye contact, as though she found the mere sight of him repellent, and walked away without a backwards glance. Though walk was probably a poor choice of words to describe the way she strutted confidently in the direction of the elevators, the graceful curve of her back ramrod straight and her hips swaying slightly to and fro. The sky high heels of her nude colored pumps didn’t seem to impair her ability to keep up a brisk pace in the slightest.

  Finn’s gaze followed her progress down the hall, his eyes falling automatically to the high, tight curves of her ass. As expected, the back view of this sexy as fuck woman was every bit as spectacular as the front. A sudden image of how she would look naked and kneeling on all fours, wiggling that round, tempting ass in his direction, was almost violently arousing, and he had to take several steps back from Serena so that she wouldn’t get the mistaken impression that she was the reason he was getting hard.

  Serena frowned when she noticed his attention was directed elsewhere, and glanced in the direction of his rapidly retreating neighbor. “Who’s that?” she asked crossly, her formerly pretty features suddenly looking decidedly unattractive as her eyes narrowed and her mouth turned downwards in a scowl.

  “I’m not exactly sure,” was all Finn said in response, while thinking to himself ‘But I’m sure as hell going to find out.’

  ***

  “Hey, Armando. How’s it going today, man?”

  The slim, dark-haired young man, who was standing in his usual position behind the concierge desk, looked up from his computer monitor immediately at the sound of Finn’s voice. He smiled warmly, his expression one of genuine pleasure and not simply of politeness. In his profession, he had to deal with all manner of requests from the well-heeled tenants of this building - most of them fairly routine but others that were more than a little on the outlandish side. Finn rarely asked for anything out of the ordinary, and was probably the most low-maintenance of all the residents here. He was also friendly and appreciative of everyone on the concierge staff, and extremely generous with his gifts to them at Christmastime as well as other gestures of his gratitude throughout the year. It was why Armando and his fellow employees were always more than willing to help out Finn on the rare occasions when he asked for something - whether it was hailing a taxi, signing for a delivery, or providing him with information.

  Finn had learned that if he wanted to know what was going on anywhere in the building - who was moving in or out, who was having renovations done, who that snazzy new BMW belonged to - Armando was definitely the quickest and most accurate source of information. Oh, the impeccably groomed young man, who favored dark, tailored suits, dress shirts with French cuffs, and conservatively patterned ties, certainly gave the impression of being the ultimate in discretion. He was quiet, polite, and perhaps took his job just a bit too seriously, but the residents of this building trusted him implicitly, both with the tasks they requested him to do and with the information they imparted to him. Finn figured that he was probably the only one in the building who knew just how much the deceptively discreet concierge loved to gossip.

  “Mr. McManus. How are you this morning, sir?” the thirty-something concierge greeted brightly. It was obvious from his tone and the wide grin on his face that he had a real fondness for this particular tenant, unlike most of the others who lived here. For those residents, he acted much more formally, his face a mask of tightly controlled politeness.

  Finn clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “Hey, I’ve told you like a thousand times now, dude. Call me Finn. Jesus, I’m already feeling like an old man these days, so calling me Mr. McManus makes me sound like my father.”

  Armando chuckled. “You certainly don’t look or act as I imagine your father would. But while I appreciate your offer - as always, sir - it just wouldn’t be right for me to be so familiar with a resident here. Was there something you needed this morning? A taxi or an Uber, perhaps? Or would you like me to make dinner reservations somewhere this evening?”

  Finn waved a hand in dismissal. “Nah, nothing like that. I’ll be heading to the gym in a few minutes, but as you know that’s just a couple of blocks from here, definitely walking distance. Before I head out, though, there is something you can do for me.”

  Armando nodded eagerly. “Of course, Mr. McManus. Anything for you, sir. What can I assist you with?”

  Finn gave the concierge a conspiratorial wink. “You can tell me everything you know - and I do mean everything - about my new neighbor across the hall. You know, a few of my friends here in the building were going on and on about her recently, but I figured they were exaggerating, that this woman they were raving about couldn’t possibly be that hot. But then I saw her leaving her place an hour ago and - damn! If anything, their descriptions didn’t even begin to do her justice. So, tell me, Armando. Who is this gorgeous babe and what do I need to know if I’m going to ask her out?”

  The normally reserved concierge grinned broadly, his eyes twinkling with shared amusement. “You must be referring to Ms. Ferris. And, frankly, sir, I’m surprised that you haven’t asked about her until now. After all, she moved in three whole weeks ago. It’s hard to believe that you didn’t notice her until this morning.”

  The grin on Finn’s face widened. “Well, I have been out of town as you know. And, uh, I’m usually not awake quite this early. My, uh, houseguest had to leave for work, so it was when I was showing her out the door that I saw my new neighbor for the first time. Her last name is Ferris, you say?”

  Armando nodded. “Yes. Delilah Ferris.”

  “Delilah, huh?”

  It shouldn’t have surprised Finn in the least that his sultry, alluring neighbor shared a name with the infamous Biblical temptress. With a face and body like hers, she could most assuredly lure a man into her web and convince him to do whatever she bid. Finn had a feeling that he would be no exception to succumbing to her feminine wiles.

  “Correct. Ms. Ferris is twenty-eight years old, single, and she’s a fashion designer of some sort. In fact, as I understand it, she owns the company, and the headquarters aren’t far from here in Mission Bay. And based on what the selling price of her condo was, not to mention all of the renovations she had done before moving in, I’d say that business was very, very good. I had to deliver some documents to her place not long after she moved in, and the changes she’s made are remarkable.”

  “Beautiful, talented, and rich,” mused Finn. “Hmm, I’m surprised with everything she has going for her that the delectable Delilah is still single. Does she have a boyfriend?”

  Armando didn’t seem in the least surprised by this question, nor did he hesitate to offer up an opinion. “I’m usually not on duty in the evenings or on weekends, of course, but I understand from my counterparts that Ms. Ferris has been seen in the company of several different men since she moved in.”

  “Ah.” Finn nodded. “So the lovely lady likes to play the field, does she? Hmm. Well, since it doesn’t sound like she has a steady boyfriend, there’s no reason at all why I can’t ask her out, is there?”

  Armando cleared his throat, no doubt choosing his next words very carefully. “I suppose not, Mr. McManus. Though I understand her, er, companions have all seemed to be of a certain type. Tall, dark-haired, sophisticated, and wearing suits and ties.”

  Finn smirked. “And you’re too polite to tell me that I only fall under one of those four categories - the first one.”

  “Well…” Armando’s voice trailed off weakly. “Perhaps, given that she seems to have a certain type, you might want to - well, get a haircut for starters. And maybe wear something a bit more, er, sophisticated.”

  Finn ran a hand carelessly through his admittedly overlong hair, then grimaced when he noticed the workout shirt he was wearing sported a couple of holes. And he supposed his scuffed athletic shoes could do with a cleaning.

  And while he was obligated to wear a suit and tie when he taped shows for the NFL
Network, he usually avoided such attire otherwise. He had always been more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, despite the fact that he could easily afford to buy a hundred designer outfits without even looking at the price tags.

  But it was beginning to sound like the fashionable Ms. Ferris liked her men to be as elegantly attired as she was, and that Finn was going to have to clean up his act a bit in order to get her attention.

  “I’d be happy to give you some, er, tips, Mr. McManus,” offered Armando hesitantly. “Or perhaps you could ask your friend who stops by to visit every so often. The British gentleman - Mr. Wainwright. The men that Ms. Ferris has reportedly dated recently sound quite similar in appearance to your friend.”

  ‘Yeah, and she’d probably adore Max,’ thought Finn dourly. ‘Just her type from the sound of it. And even though old Maxie’s been living like a monk these past few years, even he probably wouldn’t be able to resist a woman like Delilah. Good thing he’s going to Texas for a couple of weeks. The last thing you’d need right now is for the two of them to meet up and decide they’re soulmates or something.’

  “You’re probably right about that, Armando,” admitted Finn. “But Max is headed out of town for a couple of weeks or more on a business trip, so he won’t be around to ask for advice. No worries, though, I’ll figure it out on my own. I may dress like a bum most of the time, but I clean up real nice when I make an effort.”

  Armando gave him a reassuring smile. “Of course, Mr. McManus. Though I’m happy to offer an opinion, or make a suggestion. That is,” he added hastily, “if you ever need a second opinion. You, ah, don’t seem to have any difficulties in attracting women, so I’m sure Ms. Ferris would be delighted if you were to ask her on a date.”

  Finn sighed regretfully. “Yeah, well, here’s the thing, Armando. Most of the women I, er, date aren’t quite as - let’s call it refined - as Ms. Ferris. Even though I only saw her for less than a minute, something tells me she isn’t the sort of woman who hangs out in bars or clubs waiting for the first available guy to pick her up.”

  Armando nodded. “Yes, I’m fairly certain about that, sir. I know that she likes to attend the theater and the ballet, since I’ve signed for ticket deliveries a couple of times since she moved in. And I’ve made dinner and brunch reservations for her a few times. Places like Gary Danko, Bix, and Quince. I don’t know if you’ve been to any of those restaurants, Mr. McManus, but - well, let’s just say they’re typically not patronized by the singles bar crowds.”

  “I figured that,” replied Finn resignedly. Then he grinned at Armando. “So does that offer you made a few seconds ago apply to dating advice as well as fashion?”

  Armando gave him a returning grin. “Absolutely, Mr. McManus. I’m happy to help in whatever way I can. I can even tell you,” he added slyly, “what Ms. Ferris’s favorite flowers are, since she has a fresh arrangement delivered twice a week.”

  Finn gave the concierge’s outstretched hand a hearty shake. “Good. Because I’ve got the feeling that for once in my life I’m going to need all the help I can muster in order to get a girl. I’m not too proud to admit that this one just might be a little out of my league.”

  Chapter Four

  It was nearly two weeks now since the first time that Finn had laid eyes on the delectable Delilah Ferris, and he was shockingly no closer to snagging a date with her - not to mention having hours and hours of hot, steamy sex - then he’d been on that initial encounter. He figured that this was probably the first time since his freshman year in high school - when he’d brazenly asked out the hottest girl in school, who also happened to be a senior and way, way out of his league - that a woman hadn’t immediately succumbed to his charms. Hell, thought Finn with disgust as he booted up his laptop, he couldn’t recall a time in the last couple of decades when he’d even had to make an effort to get a woman. Between his good looks, his bold, flirtatious nature, and his fame, he lured women in without having to do much more than smile at them invitingly. What typically followed next was merely a matter of nature taking its course.

  Except, it seemed, with the brunette bombshell who had taken up residence across the hall from him. He’d encountered her half a dozen times over the past week and a half, and each time she’d been downright snooty and dismissive, barely sparing him a glance. And when she did happen to look his way, it was with that same expression of distaste he’d noticed the first time they had seen each other.

  Granted, acknowledged Finn with a grimace, he sure as hell hadn’t helped his case with wooing the lovely Delilah a couple of the times they’d run into each other, given that he’d had another woman on his arm both times. And two of the other times he’d caught a glimpse of her - once as she was leaving the building to go out for the evening, and another when she was entering her condo - it had been Delilah who’d been accompanied by a date. On both of those occasions, Finn had scowled to notice that her companions almost exactly fit the description Armando had provided him with - tall, dark-haired, impeccably dressed in a suit and tie, obviously sophisticated. They could have been clones of Max, he’d thought dourly, and he vowed anew to keep his friend far, far away from the woman he was more intent than ever on pursuing. It would be just his rotten luck, Finn had thought sourly, that meeting Delilah Ferris would prove to be the catalyst to jolting Max out of his years-long depression and bring him back to the land of the living.

  And when he’d thought for sure that the time was right to finally introduce himself properly to his new neighbor, she’d more or less given him the cold shoulder. After learning from Armando the approximate time Delilah left for work each day, Finn had made sure he was up and about - after also making sure that he had slept alone the previous night - in plenty of time to “coincidentally” leave his place at the exact same time she was leaving hers. He’d made sure to shave, comb his newly trimmed hair, and dress in a pair of dark wash designer jeans, a button-down white shirt, and a tweed sports coat. He’d even swapped out his usual footgear of sneakers or Vans or flip flops for a pair of handmade Italian leather loafers.

  He’d timed it exactly right, closing the door to his condo just as she was leaving her place, making sure to flash her his most dazzling smile - the one that had never failed to snare even the most seemingly unattainable of women.

  “Well, I would definitely say that this morning is getting off to a real good start,” he’d drawled in the lazy, sexy voice that most women swooned over. “When the first thing a guy sees as he’s getting ready to start the day is the most beautiful woman in San Francisco - well, it doesn’t get much better than that. Oh, here. Let me carry that for you. It looks heavy.”

  But Delilah hadn’t even attempted to return his smile, not even the sort of tiny, polite little smile that usually meant “leave me the fuck alone”. And instead of graciously handing him the overstuffed leather satchel she was carrying, and thanking him for his chivalry, she had scowled and transferred the bag to her other hand.

  “I’ve got it,” was all she’d said in reply, just before turning on her heel and striding in the direction of the elevators.

  She’d been wearing a suit that day - a chic little skirt and fitted jacket of black wool, teamed with sheer black hosiery and sky high black patent leather pumps. The skirt had done really amazing things for her sensational ass, while the short jacket had subtly emphasized her full, round breasts. Her makeup had been a little more dramatic that day, with smoky eyes and dark red lips, and she’d reminded him of a sultry, tempting she-devil. And as he’d continued gazing down at her with his best “let me show you a real good time” smile, Finn had never wanted to give in to temptation as much as he had at that particular moment.

  Her chilly dismissal hadn’t discouraged him one bit, however, as he’d held out his hand to her. “By the way, it just occurred to me that we haven’t officially met. And that I’ve been a very, very bad neighbor by not welcoming you to the neighborhood until now. I’m Finley McManus, but everyone calls
me Finn. Well, except for my friend Max, but he’s British and a real stick in the mud. And he only uses my full name when he’s annoyed with me, which is pretty much most of the time.”

  Delilah had arched a perfectly plucked brow, her lush, cupid’s bow mouth quirking up reluctantly at the corners. “I can’t imagine why that would be,” she’d replied dryly, in a slightly husky voice that had been somewhat at odds with her petite, ultra-feminine image.

  She’d given his hand a brisk, reluctant shake, then just as quickly withdrew it. But that all-too-brief contact had been more than enough for Finn to become aware of how dainty her hand was, how soft her skin felt, and how even such a simple, fleeting touch had instantly caused a bead of sweat to form across his upper lip - not to mention the reaction it was having on other parts of his anatomy.

  “Delilah Ferris,” she’d announced curtly. “And I don’t mean to be rude but I really need to be on my way to the office.”

  But Finn hadn’t been easily deterred, placing his hand on her elbow as he escorted her the short distance down the thickly carpeted hallway towards the elevator. “Of course. Is your office close by?”

  He hadn’t let on that he already knew just about everything there was to know about her fashion design business - not just the address but the website, phone number, and, most importantly, the bio of the CEO - one Ms. Delilah Ferris.

  Delilah had none too discreetly jerked her elbow out of his grasp, punching the down button with far more force than necessary. “Not far,” was all she’d replied, not even sparing him a glance as she’d stepped inside the elevator car.