“I… well… thank you,” I stammer out.
“You just caught me off guard in the waiting room. I’ve seen you on TV, of course, but I didn’t expect you to be so… compelling in person.”
I’m temporarily thrown off by the description. I’m compelling? No. I’m just a tomboy from a small town.
“I apologize too,” I say. “For my attitude. I’m not accustomed to that kind of attention. I’m not the pretty one in my family.”
Phoenix’s eyebrows shoot upward toward his rumpled, dark-brown hair. Has the man never heard of a comb? And for that matter, what’s up with the scruff lining his strong jawline? Maybe he spent so much money on his suit, he can’t afford a razor.
“Damn. If you’re not the pretty one, I need to meet the rest of your family,” he retorts.
I rush to explain. “Xander is the smart one, Bubba and I are the athletic ones, and Juliette is the pretty one.”
He sits back and slowly bobs his head up and down. “Ahh, I see. Congress must have passed a law that there can only be one pretty sibling per family.” He pulls out his phone. “I need to message my brothers and sister to let them know I’m claiming that title and they’ll need to choose something else.”
Unable to hold it in, I let out a snicker. Why does this guy have to be so physically attractiveandfunny? It’s quite inconvenient when all I want is to hate him.
“Stop it,” I tell him. “You know what I mean. I’m just an athlete.”
“Just an athlete,” he muses, putting his phone away and resting against the back of the couch with one ankle crossed over his knee. “You realize you can be more than one thing, right, Jordie? You can beboth beautiful and strong at the same time.” His voice goes quieter. “And I think you’re both.”
My face is an inferno. This guy is smooth as whipped butter.
“I’m not sure I’m the right person for this campaign,” I admit, my voice almost a whisper as I say what’s been on my mind the past couple months.
Phoenix leans forward again, and I catch a whiff of mint and vanilla mixed with… maybe honey? His eyes have once again turned into blue lasers I can’t look away from.
“Jordie, I’m the marketing director of a multi-billion dollar company. Hale Cosmetics leads the industry in innovation for women’s skin care. I didn’t get this position because my name is on the building. I got this job because I’m the best. Does saying that make me a cocky son of a bitch?” He tilts his head back and forth a couple times. “Yeah, probably, but it’s true. And I need you to understand I knew exactly what I was doing when I chose you for this campaign.”
“Why me?” I ask, becoming exceedingly interested in a loose string on the hem of my shorts.
“Because you inspire people. Especially young girls. That’s why we want you to represent our brand.” I remember Bear said the same thing downstairs. I never set out to be anyone’s inspiration; I simply wanted to play ball. My head jerks up when Phoenix says, “Do you remember the end of the third quarter in the national championship game last year?”
I wrinkle my nose. “When I fumbled the ball and they recovered?”
He nods. “Yes, and Boston College scored on that possession to increase their lead to fourteen points.”
“Don’t remind me,” I groan. “Are you trying to make me feel worse?”
Phoenix ignores my question, instead asking another of his own. “And do you remember what you did in the fourth quarter?”
Letting out a sigh, I say, “Tried to make up for my mistake.”
“Three touchdown receptions, Jordie.” He holds up three fingers to emphasize the point. “You scored three times in a single quarter, and your team won the national championship. Thanks in large part to you.”
A hint of a smile crosses my lips at the memory as my thumb skates across the diamonds on the championship ring I wear on my right hand. “I was just doing my job.”
Phoenix quirks a brow. “And according to your coach in the post-game press conference, you did it with two broken fingers on your left hand.”
“They were just fractured,” I correct, and he chuckles.
“The point is, you are strong and resilient, Jordie McNamara, and that’s what we want to portray with this campaign. Your strength.” He crosses his arms over his chest and beams an arrogant smile at me. “Now I’m not going to blow smoke up your butt and tell you this is solely because of some altruistic reasoning. We want you to represent Hale Cosmetics because you’d make us a shit-ton of money.”
A laugh shoves up my throat. “I appreciate your honesty.”
He lifts a single finger. “But that also meansyoumake a shit-ton of money. And then everyone lives happily ever after while sunbathing beside a pool filled with cash.”
That makes me grin. “Can I have one of those drinks served in a coconut with a little umbrella?”
