"It's not like I'm waiting around for him. I've dated other people."
"I realize you have needs and that you've seen a few guys here and there, but let's not forget that I know that he's the one you really want. And I'm all for it. You just have to let go of the whole retreat thing and open up. Allow him to see the real you. Not just the persona you display here at work."
"There's a bigger problem than my love life right now, Marisol. I have a meeting with the star player of a professional football team, and I don't even know that I've ever seen an entire football game in my life."
"That's okay. You're his financial manager not his coach."
"I know music, not sports."
"You know money, and you'll learn whatever you need to about sports. Do I need to reiterate how much money he makes? Don't dismiss this opportunity, Sabrina.
"There are just a few things I need to warn you about though. This guy's family is football royalty, and they're very close knit. They don't do outside people well at all. So expect some push back from his camp."
"All right and what else?"
"The other thing is that this Stevenson guy is like a rock star on steroids. Drop dead hot. Obviously loaded. He parties hard and runs through women like crazy. And he's probably an ass. He was seen at Wimbledon last summer saying something in his date's ear to make her cry. Cameras caught it."
"Wimbledon?"
"Tennis, Sabrina. It's the name of the tennis championship held in England every year. You must know about that?"
"Of course I've heard of that." Barely. "Celebrities go to that?"
"Big ones," she answers, as if she's exhausted by my sports ignorance.
"Okay, but what's your point?"
"He's charming to say the least, and let's call a spade a spade, you're vulnerable. So just stay professional. Don't let him get under your skin or inside your panties."
"You're kidding right?"
"I know who I'm talking to. I realize you have zero interest in pro athletes. Especially womanizers like him, but as a fellow woman, I felt like I should at least warn you. Stronger women have fallen under the spell of men just like him."
"Your warning has been duly noted, but trust me when I say that you have nothing to worry about. I have a very friendly electronic boyfriend at home that takes care of the cobwebs in between fellas."
"Don't we all."
We both cackle.
"So does the office know about this guy already? I mean everyone's been acting weird this morning."
"Well the team did get an email about the new sports division, but not about Stevenson specifically. Peter may have conveniently taken your name off of the email distribution list. He wanted you to be surprised. He was actually very excited to give this client to you. He really thinks you have senior level potential. He's pushing for you, Sabrina. So this Gunslinger guy is your Spin. Make it work."
I seriously doubt that, but I guess stranger things have happened.
As I make my way back to my cubical, I start getting a few "happy eyes" from coworkers.
They know.
Not just about the new sports division, but it's obvious that they know that I have one of the clients in that new department.
I try to graciously smile in acknowledgement of everyone's stares, and then I sit down at my cubicle and take a look at my computer screen.
I shake the mouse to stop the screen saver and check my inbox. Sure enough Peter sent another email about five minutes ago announcing the managers who will handle the three clients of the newly created Carson Financial sports division: Jason Humphrey, Samuel Parson, and myself. Out of us three, I am the only junior level manager, which means that this is definitely a big deal for me.
Perhaps Marisol is right. Maybe this is my gateway to becoming a senior manager. All right then, Mr. Gunslinger, let's learn more about you...
I pull my packet out which has the one sheet on top and can't believe my eyes when I see his photograph.
