“You looked me up,” he finished, and my cheeks warmed.
“I mean, yeah.” Did I sound defensive? “I’m sure you did the same for me.”
He leaned back, those powerful arms stretched out over the couch frame. “Of course. We went to college not far from each other.”
We sure did.
“Yeah. I might’ve seen that.”
“But you’re originally from New York?”
The rush of imminent tears startled me, and I blinked furiously. Patrick didn’t need to hear the sad story of my life. He was my boss—potentially—not my friend. “Yeah. I needed a change of scenery.”
Those penetrating eyes burned into mine, and I felt probed to my damaged soul. “Okay, let’s talk about the job. Aside from social media, I need someone proficient in scheduling, for both my promotional appointments and the personal ones. I can easily lose track of where I’m supposed to be and when, especially in the off-season. I have a lot of endorsements.”
“Not a problem. Dev had his days filled with that kind of stuff, too.” I chewed my lip. “What about your personal life? Are you going to want me to coordinate with your girlfriend?” Curiosity had been eating away at me. She obviously wasn’t in the suite, and I wondered why.
“No. She and I have parted ways.”
I waited to see if he’d explain further, but he just stared into space, and I figured I’d let it lie. “All right. How do you want to handle my access?”
He steepled his fingers under that strong jaw, and I couldn’t help admiring his muscles. He’d grown into his body since the last night we’d spent together.
“Well…I know you and Dev were close friends before you started working for him, but how did you work it with him?”
I explained our system and how Dev had given me a separate email to answer his messages but would always check his fan mail himself, or I’d make sure to bring to his attention anything I thought important.
“I had full log-in rights to his personal calendar, and he’d give me his passwords for his social media. Anything personal between him and Brody or anyone else they wanted to keep private, they had a separate account I didn’t have access to.”
“That works.”
I had to ask. “You didn’t have someone working for you in San Diego, when you were on the Sharks?”
“I did.” His eyes crinkled shut with laughter. “Multiple people, in fact. I never found the right fit. Or if I did, they were poached or got married and moved away…” He shrugged. “So, new move, new beginning.”
“New you?” It slipped out of my mouth before I realized it. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Nah, it’s okay. You might be right. I think I should stop with the ladies and concentrate more on the game. I’m filling some pretty big shoes, replacing Dev, and I need to show the fans and my new team I can do it.”
“I’m sure you can do whatever you put your mind to,” I murmured.And whomever, but I bit my tongue on that one.
“How about we order lunch and go over what I need from you?”
He handed me the room-service menu, but all I could think of was our time together when he’d had everything I could give. I found it impossible to forget what for him, I was certain, was a mere blip in his outrageously healthy sex life.
“Uh, yeah.” I scanned the booklet. “Turkey burger with fries.”
“Sounds good. I’ll make it two.”
He placed the order, and I forced myself to relax. I had to let go of the past and move on.
Again he sat opposite me, but this time I was ready. “Here’s a sample of my average day with Dev.” I showed him a redacted calendar, and he studied it carefully.
“You’re efficient as hell. And just what I need.” He held out a big hand. “So? Do we have a deal? Are you willing to come work with me?”
I might be making the biggest mistake of my life, but I nodded. “Yeah. I am.” The fact that he said I’d be workingwithhim, notforhim, meant he’d treat me as someone valuable.
Our food came, and we dug in and talked about life in New York City. I gave him tips on where I thought he should live, he entertained me with stories of his career, and I finally relaxed and was able to separate the past from the present. This was going to work out fine. All my worrying was for nothing. Patrick Sloane was a professional. An adult. Not the twenty-one-year-old guy I’d had sex with.
