Irresistibly Yours (Oxford #1)(18)

The only consolation was that Penelope Pope hadn’t gotten word either. He knew because true to their agreement that afternoon in the bar, they’d ventured into a friendship of sorts.

Not that they were hanging out every day or anything. He actually hadn’t seen her since that day at the pub.

But they’d exchanged a few casual texts. Mostly about sports, with the occasional restaurant recommendation thrown in when she was craving Italian and didn’t know which of the hundreds in the city to choose from.

Cole found that he kind of enjoyed his new nightly routine of plopping on his couch with the remote, his notebook, his whiskey…and his phone.

He bickered with Penelope over texts about whether or not the rookie Henderson’s homer was a fluke or hint of potential. About whether or not Perez had gained weight in the off-season and would be able to maintain his impressive stolen base percentage.

It was through these nightly exchanges that he knew she hadn’t gotten the job offer either.

Why the f*ck was Cassidy taking so long to decide?

On Thursday, one week and one day after his and Penelope’s interviews, Cole took matters into his own hands.

And this time, when he walked into the Oxford offices, two coffees in hand, the correct recipient was sitting at the front desk.

“Jo. My love,” he said, giving her his best smile.

The dark-haired receptionist glanced up from her computer and gave him a wry smile. “I was wondering when you’d show up with bribes.”

He handed her the coffee with an innocent look. “I’m offended, darling. This is just me trying to woo you so you’ll have dinner with me.”

“Unh-uh,” the brunette said, taking a sip. “For the nine millionth time, I don’t date guys from the office.”

“Ah,” he said, lifting a finger. “But I’m not from the office. I’m a contractor.”

She looked away, just for a split second, and it was exactly the opening Cole had been waiting for.

“Jo,” he said, leaning on the desk. “Is there something you want to tell me about that sports editor position?”

“Sharpe!”

Cole’s head snapped up, and he braced himself for a furious Alex Cassidy, only to sag a bit in relief when he realized the editor in chief was nowhere to be seen.

“Jake Malone,” Cole said, standing up straight and grinning at one of his closest friends.

Cole could have sworn he heard Jo sigh just a little as Jake came closer.

It happened a lot around Jake. Oxford’s travel editor had a Hugh Jackman kind of thing going on, and had definitely cornered the market on tall, dark, and handsome.

Jake had once been Oxford’s untamable playboy—a title he’d happily handed over to Lincoln, once Jake met and fell for his wife, Grace—one of Penelope’s Stiletto fairy godmothers.

Small world, and all that.

“Where the hell have you been?” Jake said, clapping Cole on the shoulder and giving him one of those half-man-hug things.

“Waiting for your boss to make up his mind,” Cole said, keeping his voice easy.

Jake rocked back on his heels. “Ah.”

Cole searched his friend’s face, but Jake gave no sign that he knew anything. Cole wasn’t surprised. Cassidy and Jake were good friends, but Cassidy also knew Jake had a big mouth. If Cassidy had made up his mind about the position, Jake would be the last one he’d tell.

“You here for an appointment with Cassidy?” Jake asked.

“Uh, well—”

Jake grinned. “He doesn’t know you’re coming, does he? Awesome. Can I be there when you surprise him? Heard you did that when he was interviewing your competition the other day. Damn, I wish I’d seen that.”

Cole winced. “Is he still pissed?”

Jake shrugged. “Honestly? I’ve barely seen the guy. He’s been up in corporate almost every day this week. Come on back,” Jake said, gesturing toward his office. “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Cole followed Jake into his office, pointing at a new poster of a vineyard on his friend’s wall. “Napa?”

“Spain,” Jake said. “I’m trying to convince the boss to send me out there in October. Everyone talks about French wines, California wines, even Italian wines…Spain doesn’t get nearly enough love.”

“Wine, huh? Let me guess whose idea that was.”

Jake grinned. “Let’s just say if Cassidy maybe allowed me to let my wife tag along, she probably wouldn’t say no. Oh, and speaking of the wife…wanna come to dinner at our place? Two weeks from Friday?”

Cole looked at him in surprise. “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch. What, I can’t ask my friend to dinner?”

Cole lifted an eyebrow. Waited.

Jake sighed and relented. “Okay, fine. Grace and the other girls—they’ve got it in their heads that they want to adopt this Penelope Pope character.”

Cole’s eyebrow went higher. “And you think I should be there? You are aware that this woman is out for my job?”

“This woman?” Jake repeated. “You sound like my sexist grandpa who’s having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that women who show a bit of ankle aren’t harlots.”