If only he’d given me a chance to explain I’m not cheating on anyone, maybe he’d chill a little. But it’s impossible to get a word in with him.
When I pull my thoughts back together and sit up slightly, Stace puts her water bottle away and looks at me expectantly.
“Is it totally unreasonable of me to fixate on this guy? I mean, if I were to flirt a little, it would be safer than hooking up with a stranger again, right? Troy is trustworthy.”
“I’m not the one you need to justify this to. But he is your agent, Orlando. Not to mention, you’re supposed to be staying out of trouble with the Force this year.”
“Right. No rocking the boat.” I rub the back of my head as I sit up, aware I’m a boat-rocker sometimes. “Hey, we should make sure I introduce you to Troy. Major professional connections for your business there, I bet.”
Stace rolls her eyes as she hands the training plan back to me. “Do you seriously think I want to mix my business plan up with all this mess? No thank you. I’ll stick to the networking connections you haven’t awkwardly you-know-what. Especially since you can’t go five seconds without pivoting the conversation back to him.”
I snap my mouth shut. Do I really pivot back to him that much?
In the articles I googled about his baseball career, it’s clear how powerful Troy is, and there’s something extremely enticing about that. He’s off-limits, inappropriate, and fifteen years older than me, but all of those forbidden aspects just make the idea of being with him again even hotter.
If I’m going to explore this part of my sexuality more, I should at least do it with someone gay, not my straight, older agent with the serious attitude problem. But I can’t help what I want, and despite reason, I want another chance with Troy.
Stace stretches her arms above her head. “I wish I didn’t hate dating apps. I need to find someone for some NSA fun, too. I have next to zero free time, but so much business school is making my brain numb.”
I puff air out my nose. “NSA. My attempt ended up extremely strings-attached.”
Stace laughs. “Yeah. Like a marionette.”
I shove the training plan in my duffel bag. “I have to get going. I need to shower and change before tonight’s puppet show at the Maple Club.”
Next week, Kevyn and I have an appointment with Mel to go over some basic media and public relations training. Tonight, though, Troy is bringing the two of us to an upscale club popular with sports professionals.
It’s apparently to teach us networking, although getting more information than that was impossible. I’ve only communicated with Troy’s employees, never him directly. All I know is that I need to show up and make a good impression.
Beyond the fact that I think Troy is sexy, his opinion is going to affect my standing with the Force.
I wonder if he’ll be just as strictly in business mode tonight. At the office, his face was a rock sculpture. The only thing that moved was his heavy brow when he creased it and his wide lips when he turned them into a deeper frown.
With his sleeves rolled up, showing his strong, hairy arms, he radiated decision. Determination.
Sex.
I’ll just make sure to explain that I’m single first, and if I get the chance after that, I’ll see how Troy responds to a little subtle, harmless flirting.
I arrive to the Maple Club, a big stone building, at the same time as Kevyn. Like me, he’s in a gray suit and navy-blue tie.
“Twins,” I say.
He chuckles. “You ready to stand around while Frisk barks at us some more?”
I laugh but dart my eyes around, not wanting our agent to hear us. “At least he hasn’t bitten yet.”
I’d bite him, though, I think to myself.
“Hey, you’re Madrigal!” a young voice calls out, and when I turn, I see a few teenagers standing with their bikes.
A girl with braces pulls her helmet off. “Holy crap. You’re like my favorite player.”
“Uh, and Orlando Onassis,” her friend says, eyes wide as he stares at me. “Right? You’re Orlando Onassis?”
Kevyn and I share a grin. “Sure am,” I say as I turn back to them.
It takes a few minutes for us to get through the pictures and autographs, and when we’re done, the most excited fifteen-year-olds in Philly go pedaling away. Making their day gives me a thrill, and I see Kevyn with a grin on his face, too.
