“How’s Chloe?” I ask.
“She’s fine. She’s away at my uncle’s, though. She technically lives there now, to be honest. Those people never seem to be able to have enough of her,” he replies, chuckling.
“So what about you? How have you been?” he asks me, still holding my hand as we bounce onto his couch.
“Well, I’ve been well. Very busy, to be honest, but totally worth it. This past weekend, I made a lasting impression on our partners in a board meeting–they were really impressed. Even with the way things are currently going, I believe a promotion or at least a raise is on the way for me. I’m so happy,” I say excitedly.
“But then I’m sorry you had to spend your Sunday alone. I didn’t mean to–” I begin to add quickly, but he interrupts me.
“Oh, there’s no need to feel bad about anything. I didn’t spend Sunday alone. I attended a friend’s birthday party. And yes, you should get a raise,” I explain.
“Oh? Whose birthday? Someone, I know?” I say.
“Huh, no. It’s not someone you know. It’s a friend I just met recently at the hospital,” he points out.
“Oh. Alright. I didn’t know you spent enough time there to actually meet anyone, though,” I say.
‘No, I didn’t. I mean–I did,” he stutters.
“Oh, okay,” I say with an awkward chuckle.
“At least you had a fun time. I can finally let go of my guilt. So to the topic that drove me here in the first place. You said you were going to tell me something? I’ve done a good job at quelling my curiosity all the while, but I can’t do it anymore. So please spill,” I say.
He clears his throat loudly and starts to talk, but I stop him.
“Wait. Who do you want to talk to? Katie, your agent? Or Katie, this sweet, beautiful woman you’re in love with?” I ask dramatically, flipping my hair.
“Both,” he replies with a laugh as he leans in to kiss me, but I place my index finger on my lips playfully to stop him.
“Continue your announcement, sir.”
He chuckles and stares at me in wonder before speaking again.
“Alright. Remember the day my father was rushed to the hospital? When you came running down there?”
“Yes, yes. I do,” I reply, wondering where this is going.
“Before I continue, promise me that you’d let me finish before saying anything,” he says seriously.
“Okay. Just get down to your point already,” I drawl, my curiosity piqued.
James:
I examine Katie’s expression and consider not telling her at all. But having come this far, backing down is not an option. Besides, if I don’t see it as a big deal, I see no reason why she should.
Slowly, I narrate the entire events of the past few weeks. Right from the doctor’s diagnosis at the hospital down to my surgery, and I watch as she downs it all, her expression changing from worry to anger. Anger stayed.
“Wait, so all of this happened, and you didn’t think to ever mention it to me at all? Not once, not even as a hint? How could you do that?” she exclaims, visibly trying not to scream.
“You were busy, and I didn’t see any need to bother you. Besides, it was a straightforward surgery, and I’m fine now,” I explain as calmly as possible as I try to hold her hand, but she pulls away real fast and jumps to her feet.
“Bother me? What does that even mean? I am your agent before anything else! I should know about these things. What if something more serious had happened to you? What if the news of your condition had gotten into the wrong hands? All it will take to pull down all of your hard work these past few months is a shitty misinformed article that states you have some severe mental issues. Didn’t you think of that? Of course, you didn’t,” she yells, hitting her palm against her temple in frustration as she paces the room.
“But nothing happened. I mean, I’m perfectly fine now. The surgery went well. No rumors went around. The hospital has a strict patients confidentiality policy. Everything is back to normal,” I say, trying to calm her.
“That’s not even the point. You know how horrible I feel right now? You should tell me these things; you should tell me everything. Remember what happened the last time you kept info from me? No? You obviously do not even trust me, as an agent or even as a friend. I’m disappointed,” she says with a vehement shrug.
“Hey. No, of course, I do trust you. I just didn’t see the need to disturb you when I could handle it on my own,” I say quietly as I stand up to hold her by the shoulders, trying to make her see my point, and this time she doesn’t pull away.
“I think it’s high time I resigned as your agent,” she says seriously, staring blankly into space.
“No, Katie. No. If it’s about this issue, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you. I can’t stand working with someone I don’t know,” I plead.
“Trust me. It’s for the best. I’m afraid our personal relationship is interfering with our work relationship a little too much. Things always turn sour when emotions start to cave in, and because I really care about you, I think working with a new publicist will do you a whole lot of good,” she says calmly.
“I’ll take my leave now,” she says quietly, almost in a whisper.
“Katie?” I call to stop her.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she says as she walks over to me, wraps her arms around my neck, and gives me a long kiss that sends a hot sensation down to my toes.
“Trust me, I know,” she says, looking straight into my eyes as she caresses my cheek.
I watch as she bats her eyelids in reluctance before unhooking her arms and turning to leave. I hear the soft thud of the door as she walks out of the house, and I run my hand through my hair in confusion. What had just happened?
Chapter Seven
Katie:
“Dan was so impressed, wasn’t he?” I say to Collins excitedly as we walk into Flash Spot’s grand lobby together. As if it were planned, both of us had arrived in the parking lot together, and as he follows closely behind me, it almost feels like he is my real PA.
I turn to look at him, and he curves his lips in what looks like an imitation of a smile.
We had attended the meeting together last weekend, and even he could not deny that it had gone much better than he expected.
“He most certainly was,” I say breathlessly, “because, for the first time since he took his break, he didn’t send any information through you. He called me directly. Oh, Collins, I feel so good.”
Just that moment, Amelia, my real secretary, joins us.
“Good morning, Katie, you’re glowing,” she says with a bright smile showing off her cute dimples.
“Thanks, Amelia. You look great, too.”
As I watch Amelia stroll along ahead of us with her fast catwalk pace, I realize how much I miss my small office and my simple secretary. I turn to look at Collins and find him staring after Amelia even though she is way past us. Oh wow. Could it be? Once when Amelia and I had been less busy and had one of our rare office chitchat sessions, she had mentioned something about how someone had caught Collins staring at her, and we had both laughed it off as a baseless rumor. We didn’t believe Mr. Poker face even cared about women.
I clear my throat, bringing him back to reality. Not that it is any of my business, but if the poker-faced PA of the director could by any chance be interested in my secretary, who I know is single, then I might as well take it upon myself to match them together. Having worked with him for a while, I have come to realize that he is a good man–snobbish and reserved sometimes, yes, but a good man. Perhaps all it would take to get him to open up more is someone to love. And I’d be glad to be a facilitator.
“She is my secretary,” I state for the record.
“I know,” he says flatly, not showing any form of pretence to the subject matter.
“So you know that you can get to her through me,” I say carefully, observing him gently to know when I am about to c
ross any major boundary.
When he doesn’t reply, I press a little more.
“She doesn’t go for lunch until it’s five minutes till the end of the break. It’s a habit. Now you owe me one,” I say with a wink as I increase my pace.
Great woman. Great job. Great matchmaker. Charles had been right; I should give myself more credit than I do.
James:
The jarring sound of my cell phone ringing disturbs the peace of my evening workout, and I pause for a bit to go pick it up, panting as I walk over to it.
“Hello James,” a familiar shrill feminine voice says from the other end.
“Oh, hi, Ruth,” I say in surprise as I do not recall giving her this number.
“What’s up?” I ask when she doesn’t say another word.
“Oh. You’re talking to me more freely than I expected. I can’t believe I’ve been the only one who’s been going around with a heavy heart since Sunday. But since you’ve put it behind you, I might as well do the same,” she says with nervous laughter of relief.
I pause for a moment, trying to understand what she is talking about, but I only end up becoming more confused.
“I’m afraid I’m a little lost. What exactly are you talking about?” I ask inquisitively.
“Do you seriously not remember?” she asks, unsurely.
“Yes. What am I supposed to be remembering?” I ask.
“Oh well, Sunday evening was quite intense. We both had a little too much to drink, and I guess we lost control. In a nutshell, we had sex,” she says.
Panic begins to rise in my heart as I try to grasp the meaning of her statement.
“We had sex? Me, you?” I ask, to be sure I had heard correctly.
“Yes. And no one is to blame. I think it’s best we put it behind us. That way, we both get to preserve our relationships.”
“Our relationships?” I repeat, feeling like I am not in control of my own body any longer.
“You kept calling a woman’s name that night. Katie or something,” she replies.
“Oh, wow,” I breathe.
“Anyway, I just called to set things straight and all. I’m really sorry all of that happened at my place,” she says, sounding very sincere.
“But I didn’t drink that night. I’m very certain that I didn’t take any alcohol. I’ve been off alcohol for a long time.” I say with certainty.
“Well, I do not remember much either, but all I know for sure is, we had drunken sex, and I’m sorry about it. The only reason I called is that I thought you might be having a guilt trip too. So let’s just leave bygones as bygones. No one is harassing you for it, and no one is going to know unless you tell them. So have yourself a good evening,” she finalizes, and I hang up the phone without saying a word.
I try to rack my brain and see if I can remember what had gone down that night. But try as I might, all I do remember is that I had made use of the restroom in her flat and appeared on my bed the next morning. Obviously, I had driven myself home. But the memory gap in between is what troubles me.
I try to brush it aside just as Ruth had said. People have random sex all the time, especially athletes, so it isn’t a total surprise. Except that I’m not “people,” and I have a woman I love dearly in my life. A hunch continues to gnaw inside me, similar to the one I had felt when I had refused to give Ruth my personal contact information. For some reason, I smell trouble, but before long, I let it slide. There is absolutely no need to get paranoid. She had called because she had wanted to even things out and there was no need to push it.
Katie:
I lean back on the leather chair in my office across from Collins, who is holding a notepad and jotting down information. A fundraiser has been initially scheduled as part of the company plans for this year. Flash Spot will be collaborating with a charity organization this year in the act of giving back to society. As it is drawing near, the management and accounts department–which are basically in charge of organizing the event–has organized a budget, which they then sent to the director’s office, which in the meantime, is Collins and me.
Accounting and calculations have never been my favorite, and so it goes without saying that the past few minutes have been very boring and stressful for me. On the other hand, Collins is the typical life of the party and the hero of the situation.
“How do you know all of this stuff?” I ask tiredly.
“It’s pretty basic. Accounts have taken care of everything. The director prefers going through every budget before approving it, so I’ve been doing this for several years,” Collins says, not looking up at me.
“Oh. You do this for every single one of the company’s budgets?” I ask in awe.
“Since the last head of audits made a slight mistake that cost the company a lot of money, yes. I have to. It’s the director’s order,” he says plainly.
“Wow. Agents are so under-informed,” I comment.
“No, it just isn’t very much your business. You all are the face of the company. Your roles are the most important. What’s Flash Spot without her publicists?” he says with a shrug.
“You know, for someone who once called me “just an agent,” you seem pretty fond of publicists,” I say teasingly.
He clears his throat first and says, “I didn’t know you then.”
“Oh. So now you agree that you made a prejudiced judgment about me, right?” I push playfully.
“Yes. I’m sorry,” he says, looking up finally and giving a small smile that brightens up his features.
Such a handsome man. If only he starts looking less like a block of ice and smile more.
“Apology accepted,” I say, beaming. “Now, since you’ve proven that you are an expert in this, I’ll be leaving it all to you since I have other things to do.”
I peer at my wristwatch and realize that the day is far spent.
“Looks like we’ll be working late hours today, Collins,” I say, exasperatedly.
“No. I have a huh–meeting tonight, but I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow, and I’ll get it to you before you ask for it,” he says calmly.
“You have a meeting tonight?” I ask curiously.
“Yeah,” he says quietly as he returns his gaze to his papers.
A thought pops up in my mind, and my eyes widen in delight.
“Do you mean a date, perhaps?” I ask teasingly.
When he does not reply nor look up, I take it as a shy yes.
“A date with Amelia? Are you going out with Amelia?” I probe enthusiastically.
“Yes, I am,” he says stiffly.
“Wow, that is beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” he says as he returns to his serious, reserved self.
Today, the fact remains that Collins and I have had possibly the longest conversation anyone in Flash Spot has had with him. And I have also helped influence his love life. And so, even if Dan shows up today to take back his office, at least I’ll be leaving with fulfillment.
Chapter Eight
James:
I scan the small posh café with my eyes, trying to place where my club’s coach is seated. I soon catch sight of him waving me over, and I walk up to his table.
“Hey boy,” he says as soon as I get within hearing distance.
“Hello, coach,” I say, sitting down across from him as I wipe my sweaty palms against my jeans.
After I received his call asking to meet with me, I have thought about different possible reasons why Cuba United’s coach could have asked to see me, and a part of me hoped that it’d be good news, but either way, I figured that the best way to know for sure is to meet with him. So here we are.
“How have you been?” he asks.
“Very well, sir,” I reply, wishing he could fast forward straight to his point. But knowing my coach well enough, I know that will never happen.
Although quite a small man in size, his skills and charisma carry him as high and tall as any man can go. Being a very calm man, I�
��ve yet to meet the one person who can force him to go faster than he wants to go or do something he doesn’t want to do–a character which can be easily misinterpreted for pride.
“So, you still the espresso boy?” he asks as he signals to the café’s attendant.
I chuckle in response to the memory the question brought. The first time he had found out that we both share the same taste in coffee, he had called me espresso son for weeks.
“Two espressos, please,” he says to the curly-haired young lady.
We spend the next few minutes discussing small talk about everything but sports. Soon enough, he decides to hit the nail on the head.
“So, your agency has been in touch,” he begins, and I adjust myself in my chair, “and I hear your ankle is better now, correct?”
“Yes, coach,” I reply.
“Very well, then. The team has moved on without you, but still, it’d be nice to see our striker in action again. Now I am not inviting you back to the team. I don’t have such power. All I’m saying is, if you want to come back to the man you were and have Cuba consider you again when it is time, then you need to get back in shape. See you at practice on Wednesday; let’s see if you’ve still got it in you. Remember, a second of tardiness–” he starts.
“–equals an hour of extra practice for the entire team,” I complete happily.
“Good, nice to know your head is still intact,” he says with a small smile as he beckons the attendant, pays the bill, and rises to leave.
“Bye, coach. Thanks a lot,” I say, trying to sound as composed as possible even though I’m feeling anything but composed.
Katie:
“Good morning Amelia,” I say as I walk towards my office door. Feeling refreshed as I take in the familiar sights.
“Good morning Katie. It’s nice to have you back,” she says, grinning widely.
“It’s nice to be back,” I say sincerely.
Collins had announced Dan’s return before today, and so, I had graciously cleaned up the executive desk and put the office in order, exactly the way Dan had left it weeks ago, before saying goodbye to the place.
Centre Spot: Enemies to Lovers Book 4 Page 4
