Chapter Ten
Gia
I loved the timbre of Connor’s voice—deep, resonant, and easily heard over the rumble of other locker room noise. It made people listen to him. And it made me shiver with delight. The Bobcats were getting together a couple of hours before the first game in a series against the Cleveland Indians. The guys had come in restless, and it was Connor’s job to get them focused on the task at hand. It was my job to stand in the shadows and watch him work.
Connor’s magic was never in what he said. I could lift his words and compare them to thousands of pre-game pep talks. The words would be nearly identical. It was in his voice and his stance. It was the way he looked at everyone on the team—all the way deep into the bench—and made sure every player was on board. Every man quieted to listen to him. And when he was done, they were a unified group with a singular focus. They came in as individuals. Connor made them a team.
Impressive. Sexy as hell. And guaranteed to make me even wetter than I was now.
It had been two weeks since our hot night. Or as I called it, my Night of 1000 Orgasms. We had done it every way I could think of and a few I’d never even imagined. I’d maybe gotten an hour of sleep that night, but it had been well worth it.
I didn’t mind when I didn’t hear from him that next day. We both needed rest. But then he didn’t call that night. Or the next. Yes, I knew that we’d both said one night only, but I was hoping that, since the night had been so spectacular, he would want another. I certainly did.
No such luck. Sure, I caught him staring at me all the time. Mostly because I was staring at him. But he never acted on it. And though he sat down for the interview I needed, nothing ever went beyond professionalism. And I was nearly screaming from the frustration that caused.
I wanted to be with him. I wanted to jump him. And I wanted both in the worst possible way. If he’d given me the sign, I would have joined him in the bathroom before the game. But, of course, he didn’t. He’d said as much that night, and he was a man of his word.
So I headed back to my office and the complicated task of goosing our media coverage before the game. I’d just launched an awesome pizza promotion based on Connor’s hitting this game—discounts for a base hit, dollars off for a home run. I was running through my Twitter feed when I rounded the corner to my office. The light was on and the door open. It was pretty rare for someone to visit me before a game, so I hurried over, then stopped dead when I saw who it was.
Sophia Hart stood beside my desk, seeming to inspect the Bobcat poster on the wall. But I didn’t trust it…or her. She looked too casual there, and too studied in the way she turned as if caught by surprise.
“Gia,” she said with a tight-lipped smile.
“Sophia,” I answered in my most chipper tone. “What a surprise to see you here.” She was Connor’s sister, and so I was prepared to give her a chance to be nice.
She arched a perfectly trimmed brow in my direction. “It’s a Bobcat game, and my brother is the catcher.”
I nodded. “Of course—”
“Where else would I be?”
The salon? NY Fashion Week? A myriad of possibilities stomped through my brain, but I didn’t say them. Instead, I stepped firmly around her, doing my best to dislodge her from the tiny space behind my desk. “How can I help you?”
“I wanted you to explain the publicity you have lined up for Connor.”
Really? She’d never been interested before. Still, I’d be a fool not to cooperate with her. I could use her help in adding some pull to whatever publicity I generated. Fortunately, I had something already written up that I’d sent to Connor’s agent just that morning. A couple taps on the keyboard and my printer spat out the full scope of what I’d arranged. It was pretty impressive, even if I did say so myself.
I handed her the sheet as I explained what I had done. My first article on Connor had landed on a dozen blogs and been mentioned on both TV and radio. With the Bobcats’ number of wins, every local media outlet was hungry for news.
“My article has been really well received,” I said. “But my national exposure isn’t what I’d like. Do you have any pull with—?”
Her voice suddenly raised as she interrupted me. “This all looks lovely. I’m pleased with how well you’ve implemented everything.”
I blinked. “Um, thank you. I tried to contact your assistant, but he said he doesn’t work for you anymore.”
She stood up and headed for my door. “Yes. Stupid man. Couldn’t get anything right.”
“If I could get your new assistant’s—?”
“Joe! I’m over here!” she called.
What? There was only one Joe here, and his name was Joe DeLuce, the team owner. Damn it, how had she known? I pushed up from my seat in time to hear Joe’s heavy tread coming down the hall toward us.
“Hello, Joe!” Sophia said as she embraced the man and gave him a flirty kiss right on the mouth. He took her attention the way many older men do—with a grin and a salacious eyebrow wiggle.
“Always a pleasure, Sophia,” Joe said, his gaze dropping to her ample cleavage. I might have blamed him, but Sophia seemed to be able to do something to make her breasts bounce. Hell, I was looking, and I didn’t have the Y chromosome.
“I was just going over the publicity plans for Connor. I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised by the way your girl here has implemented my ideas.”
