Game On(46)

“He doesn’t like to talk about personal things,” I told him.

“Clearly not with you,” Tim sneered and gave me a once over. “Though I can’t understand why you didn’t just put on a pair of cut-offs and a bikini top before you interviewed him. Do you even understand how stupid guys like this are? Just flash some tit and they’re goners.”

I glared at him. I thought for a moment what he would do if I had done as he suggested. Probably call me a slut and make some comment about how I only got my information through sex. I also thought for a moment about what it would be like to knee him in the balls. Pretty damn satisfying, I imagined.

But I didn’t have time to daydream about causing Tim bodily harm as he began listing the things he needed me to do while he was interviewing Nathan. After the tenth personal item, like dry cleaning and finding him a place for a good cup of coffee, I realized that I was no longer a fellow journalist sharing an assignment. Nope, I had just been demoted to Tim’s assistant. Fuck.





Chapter Nineteen


While Tim went off to wrangle an interview out of Nathan, I stared at the to-do list in my hand, wondering how my career had gone downhill so fast. Fucking Tim, I thought as I watched him swagger across the field looking like a total moron. I half hoped Nathan and the rest of the guys would laugh him out of the locker room, but I knew that doing so would be a pretty bad move on their part. Tim was a vindictive son of a bitch. It was in Nathan’s best interest to give him what he wanted. And if he had given me the chance, that’s what I would have told him.

“Hey.” Mandy leaned over the bleachers towards me. “You OK?”

“Oh, sure.” I glanced back at her. “I love working with sexist douchebags.”

Mandy shook her head, eyes wide. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone quite as douche-y as that guy.”

“Sadly, I’ve got an office full of them waiting for me in Houston.” My stomach twisted as I realized it was the truth. I was terrified of getting fired but I didn’t really want to go back to the Register. At least not the way it was now, full of *s who thought more about my cup size than the quality of my work.

The guys came back onto the field, Tim trailing behind them, obviously trying to get a word in with Nathan, who was ignoring him to talk to Chris. Both of them glanced up at us, but it was only Chris that waved.

I looked over at Mandy, who waved back, a glow brightening her face. Apparently things were going very well with Chris.

“You seem happy,” I told her as I joined her in the stands, and her smile widened.

“Yeah.” She blushed a little. “Things are good.”

I noticed that in addition to the ever-present camera around her neck, there was a brand new camera bag at her side.

“Nice bag,” I pointed out and leaned closer to take a good look.

“Thanks,” Mandy said, the blush growing stronger. “Chris got it for me.” She gave it an affectionate pat.

I let out a low whistle. Chris took direction and then some. When I had suggested that he buy Mandy a camera bag, I thought he was going to get her a nice one, but I never imagined it would be this nice. It was the kind of bag that I usually saw slung on a professional’s shoulder. A well-paid professional. Real fancy, expensive, soft leather and apparently handmade. And the beautiful monogram stitched on the side was just icing on the already super high-quality cake.

I glanced out on the field where the guys were. Chris and Nathan were, as usual, standing together talking, looking too handsome for their own good, doing their best to avoid eye contact with Tim who could not look more out of place if he tried. The coach blew a whistle and the best part of practice began—the stretching.

Mandy gave a little sigh. “I could watch this all day.” She had a lusty gleam in her eyes and I couldn’t blame her. There wasn’t much on this earth that could beat the sight of a field full of perfectly built men bending and flexing. It was cool for the season, but I was suddenly feeling very, very hot.

“What’s going to happen with the article?” Mandy asked after the guys were done with their extremely necessary calisthenics and began their practice. “Are you going to have to go back to Houston?”

The final game was in a few days and though they were on a fierce winning streak, I knew that there was a lot of pressure on those graduating players—Chris and Nathan included—to finish with a win. I realized suddenly that I really wanted to be there to watch them play. To watch Nathan win. Because I knew he would.

“Not until Tim feels he has enough,” I said. “But once he does, then yeah, back to Houston.”

“Mmhmmm.” She sounded disappointed.

“What about you?” I asked her. “Where are you going after graduation? Have you thought about Houston? Maybe applying for a job at the Register? There are a few people there that aren’t douchebags,” I told her, imagining how much more fun work would be if she was there. “I could put in a good word,” I offered, hoping I wouldn’t be permanently demoted by that point.

Mandy’s eyes lit up. “Really? You think they’d be interested?”

“Sure,” I said, already excited for the possibility of the two of us working together. “They’re always looking for photographers and you’re really talented.”