High Risk Rookie

by Odette Stone

  “This really helps.”

  I paused, trying to make the most of our civil moment. “It seems like we’ve hit the ground running and haven’t quite caught our breath.”

  He looked over at me. “What are you suggesting?”

  I had this vision of us rolling around on a bed. Why did my mind have to go there? “I’d like to have a sit-down meeting. We can go over some of my plans and get clear on expectations.”

  “I’m available anytime.”

  The rest of the ride was made in silence. I was hyperaware of his big hands resting casually on his thighs and his long legs filling the back seat. My biggest issue with him was that when he came within five feet of me, I was irresistibly drawn to him. I knew he felt the same physical pull towards me. My last defense was to remain distant, professional, and a bit frosty.

  We pulled up to our apartment building, and together, in silence, we walked across lobby.

  When we stepped onto the elevator, he looked over at me. “I’m ready to talk if you want.”

  I should have told him that our talk would happen in a more professional setting, but instead, I confirmed, “You want to talk right now?”

  He gave me a smile meant to charm. “You can read me the riot act about the next five weeks.”

  “That sounds like my idea of fun.”

  “And I could order takeout.”

  My stomach growled. I looked over at him. “You’ve got yourself a business meeting.”

  I watched as he dumped his bags at the door and tossed the keys on the counter. His new apartment had the exact layout mine did, only in reverse. It was tastefully decorated, and someone had filled the fridge with fresh groceries and left a giant basket with wine and cheese.

  He looked at his phone. “What do you want for takeout?”

  “Thai?”

  He handed me his phone. “Order what you like, and then order four times the amount for me.”

  I looked at his hand like he was offering me a bomb. Never in my life had a man willingly offered me his phone. “Do you like spicy or not?”

  “As hot as you can handle.”

  “Oh, I can handle hot.”

  A look passed between us. The innuendo was unmistakable. I dropped my eyes to his phone and ordered our meal while he poured me a glass of wine. I noticed that he had switched to water and, further to his credit, he stood on the other side of the island, out of my reach.

  He shrugged off his suit jacket and rolled up his cuffs. “So, Mark is paying me to train for camp?”

  “Can I see the envelope he gave you?”

  He slid it towards me. I read the contract. “This apartment is leased in your name until a week after training camp starts. He’s provided a schedule of ice times for you, and gym time. He’s giving you access to his medical team. And you will be paid $1000 a week.”

  “That’s unreal.”

  “Train hard.”

  His expression was serious. “I will. Playing hockey was never the issue for me.”

  “What was the issue?”

  He looked directly at me but didn’t answer.

  I wished that I had taken the time to read the report on him. “I’m working on contacting your most recent agent, the one who won you in a poker game.”

  “His name is Scott Spears. Any luck?”

  “He’s playing hard to get, but I’m not anticipating a problem. I’ll keep you posted.”

  He took a sip of his water but didn’t speak.

  “These next five weeks are going to be a test of sorts. Mark will observe how often you show up at the facility, and if you use his team and every advantage offered to you. He wants to see how motivated you are.”

  “I’m motivated.”

  “He’s going to throw some roadblocks in your way. He’ll watch to see if you are partying, and he might even set up some invites for you to go out. It would be to your advantage to live like a monk and train like a warrior. Don’t let anyone or anything distract you—including women.”

  He looked amused. “I’m not here to party. I’m here to get my career off the ground.”

  “Stay away from Brody. He’s going to pop up somewhere along the way, and he’ll be another test. This time, you need to walk.”

  “Okay.”

  I studied him, not sure if I believed his easy acceptance of my terms, but I let it slide. At some point, I needed to loosen the reins.

  “I understand that we got off to a rocky start”—I cleared my throat—“and sent some mixed messages, but I appreciate how professional you’re being.”

  He gave me a serious look, and we clinked glasses. But he ruined the moment when his face broke into a cocky smile. The kind of smile that made a girl want to rub her thighs together.

  I tilted my head, working not to show anything. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Spit it out.”

  He didn’t tell me. Instead, he changed the subject. “How did you get into all of this?”

  “You mean how did I become a sports agent?”

  “Yeah.”

  I stared into my wineglass, wondering how much I wanted to tell him. “My sister, Helene, was an Olympic athlete at a young age.”

  “No shit.”

  “Figure skating. I was dragged to thousands of rinks in my lifetime. And in her career, she had no less than six agents. My entire childhood revolved around the world of figure skating, but I could only watch so many hours of my sister spinning in circles before I went looking for something else to watch.”

  “You discovered hockey.”

  I gave him a shrug and a smile. “I got a marketing degree, but I couldn’t handle working a typical marketing job. I was always looking for a way to be part of this world.”

  “What was your big break?”

  I smiled into my wineglass. “As a student, I was a free intern for the Wolves marketing team one summer. The next summer, I was Mark’s paid intern. And the year after I graduated, I applied to become part of his mentorship program.”

  He gave me a thoughtful look. “That explains why you are willing to help him out.”

  “He’s the reason I have my career.”

  “That’s really impressive.”

  Something passed between us, almost a mutual awareness of our desire for each other. The problem was, the more time I spent with him, the stronger it got.

  “I want you to work hard the next five weeks. I’m going to give you your space.”

  He took his time answering. “If that’s what you want.”

  I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly that I forced myself to slide off my stool and pick up my bag.

  He straightened up. “You’re leaving?”

  “Our talk is done.” I needed to leave before I ripped open that dress shirt of his and climbed onto his lap.

  “What if I need a friend?”

  “Text me.”

  He laughed. Someone knocked on the door.

  I followed him to the door and watched as he accepted our takeout from the delivery guy. Without saying anything, he handed me one of the bags. “Enjoy dinner.”

  “Thank you. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Okay.”

  I ate alone at my island, straight out of the takeout container, and wondered what was wrong with me. I usually had amazing self-control when it came to the opposite sex. It baffled me that I couldn’t enjoy a meal with Levi without being assaulted by thoughts of tearing his clothes off.

  My phone beeped with a text.

  Levi: I think you got both of the pad thai noodles.

  Me: I did. You want one?

  Levi: Negative—just checking in, friend.

  I stared at his text for a long time. I didn’t want to be his fucking friend. I sighed. What I did want was dangerous.

  I turned off my phone for the night, but it took me a long time to fall asleep.

  Every couple of days we exchanged short, almost formal texts. I didn’t get the sense he was lonely or overwh
elmed or in need of anything. If he was, he was making it clear he didn’t want any help from me. I didn’t know much about Levi, and normally I would be barging into his life at all hours, trying to get a sense of who he was—but I used his indifferent responses as an excuse to keep my distance. I felt embarrassed about my inability to keep my libido in check when he was around.

  Me: How’s it going?

  Levi: Good.

  Me: Do you need anything?

  Levi: I’m good.

  Me: Are you still alive?

  Levi: Yes.

  Me: How is the training?

  Levi: Making progress.

  Me: Do you need anything?

  Levi: Thanks, but I’m good.

  Three weeks later, I was having a trying morning. I missed an appointment with my bank because a client meeting ran long, I splashed coffee on my skirt and my phone was ringing off the hook.

  I let most of the calls go to voice mail, but when Charlie’s name showed up on my screen, I picked up.

  She had a smile in her voice. “I know it’s last moment—but I’m downtown, my child is at home with her part-time nanny, and I was wondering if you’d like to go for lunch?”

  I flipped through my calendar. I had a phone meeting with Brian, the divorce lawyer, and then I would happily turn off my phone for lunch. “You’re the only ray of sunshine in my day. I have a phone meeting until noon, but I’m all yours after that.”

  “Great. I’m on foot—can I drop off some bags?”

  Another call rang through. It was Brian. “Of course. See you soon,” I said to Charlie, before I switched to the other line. “Hey, Brian.”

  “Sorry to disturb you. I know we have a phone meeting in ten minutes, but I had a meeting in your neighborhood that ran late, and instead of driving madly through traffic to try to make our phone call, I could just drop by.”

  “Sure. Would it be okay if we cut the meeting a bit short? I have another meeting at noon.”

  “Of course. I’ll head right over.”

  I used that time to touch up my makeup, fix my hair, and brush my teeth. The coffee stain was barely visible, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, I knew the stain was there.

  I heard a rustle at the door. It was Charlie, who was laden down with bags. “Sorry, they had this blowout sale at ToyMania, and I lost my mind. Can I drop these off in your office before your phone meeting?”

  I rushed and gave her a quick hug. “Yes, of course.”

  She stacked them in my closet and then shut the door. “I have to run one more errand, but I’ll be back for lunch.”

  “I can’t wait.” I couldn’t. It felt like ages since I had done anything but work and sleep.

  She disappeared out the door. I was sitting at my desk when I heard her voice at the door again.

  “Guess who I found wandering the halls.”

  I looked up at a man I had never seen before. He was tall, with a handsome face and a beautiful dark beard. His suit was impeccable, and he was smiling at me. Oh shit. This was probably my divorce lawyer.

  “Hello,” I said, with a smile that felt pasted on with glue.

  Charlie beamed. “This is Brian Mason. He said you two have never met in person.”

  Mark’s words rang in my head. When you can’t tell the whole truth, tell as much of it as possible.

  “He’s correct. We haven’t.” I stepped out from behind my desk and shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Charlie mouthed from behind his back, He’s so hot.

  I smiled at him. “I’ll just be one moment. Please make yourself comfortable.”

  Charlie and I moved out into the hallway.

  “Is this how people date these days?” she asked me in a fascinated, hushed tone.

  I hated lying to her, but the alternative was telling the truth. I married my rookie, and Brian is my divorce lawyer. “I’ve only talked to him briefly on the phone a few times. We are not dating.”

  “Yet.” She winked. “Well, don’t let me keep you from your meeting.”

  I ached to tell her. “Give me forty-five minutes.”

  She grinned at me as she walked away. “Take your time.”

  I took a deep breath before walking back to my office, shutting the door and facing Brian. He was still standing.

  “Sorry about that.”

  He studied me and said with a cute smile, “Your friend thinks we’re dating.”

  “Yes, that was her conclusion, and I didn’t dissuade her. Is that an issue?”

  “It happens more than you think.”

  There was a very subtle flirtation in his tone that only the most discerning ear would pick up. I pretended I didn’t hear it. “She’s also my noon meeting.”

  His smile widened. “I can make that work.”

  A sharp rap sounded on the door.

  Curious, I called, “Yes?”

  The door opened, and then Levi was standing before me, looking between Brian and me. I drank in the sight of him. Behind him, Charlie mouthed, Sorry. He looked so good; I had to work to pull my eyes from his gaze.

  “Levi,” I spoke his name. “What are you doing here?”

  Brian spoke from somewhere beside me. “This is Levi?”

  Levi’s attention shifted to Brian. “You know my name?”

  “Uh, Krista mentioned you in passing.”

  Levi looked like he was going to reply, but I interrupted. “How are you, Levi?”

  His beautiful dark eyes shifted to me. “I just dropped by to say hi.”

  His defiant stance and the way he was staring at Brian said otherwise. Dropping by was hockey player code for I need to talk to someone. Anytime one of my players ‘dropped by’ for no reason, trouble was brewing.

  I needed to get him alone. “Levi, can we talk for a couple of minutes?”

  He looked unimpressed, but he let me usher him into the office kitchen.

  “You’re upset,” I whispered as I stepped up to him. My mind whirled. If I had to guess, he was upset about either Brody or Mark Ashford. I caught a whiff of masculine soap and warm male that made me want to breathe deep.

  He looked frustrated. “I don’t know what I am. Is that guy your type?”

  “Who?”

  “The guy in your office?”

  I frowned. “Are you talking about Brian?”

  “Is Brian the dude in your office?”

  “Keep your voice down.” I hushed him. “That’s our divorce lawyer.”

  His eyes widened, but he didn’t speak.

  “Levi, forget about him. Tell me why you’re upset.”

  “Isn’t there some sort of law against dating your lawyer?”

  I froze. “I’m not dating him.”

  “Charlie told me not to interrupt you because you were on a date.”

  I blinked at him. Was that why he was upset? “Oh.”

  He looked over his shoulder at the door. I had the feeling if I didn’t explain he’d barge back into my office.

  “Charlie took a call from our divorce lawyer. She jumped to the conclusion that we were dating. I just haven’t done anything to dissuade her from that belief. It’s a good cover story.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, but I had no idea what he was thinking.

  I added, “She thought our meeting was a date.”

  Finally, he spoke. “I should go.”

  I stood there in shock as he moved away from me.

  Let him go—just let him go. But I couldn’t. There was something about him and this whole situation that was impossible to ignore. And he still hadn’t told me what was wrong. I power-walked after him, catching up with him in the stairwell. By the time I pushed open the door, he was more than halfway down the stairs.

  “Wait!” I called to him.

  He spun around and looked up at me. “What?”

  I hated going down stairs in heels. I gingerly walked down towards him, completely aware that he was watching me. I didn’t speak until I stood one step above him, which alm
ost put us at eye level. I was irritated that he was making me chase after him in my heels, and even more irritated that I let him. “What the fuck, Levi?”

  “Just forget it.” He started to turn to walk away.

  I grabbed his arm. “We need to be on the same page.”

  He turned back to me. “I shouldn’t have dropped by.”

  I studied him. In my determination to avoid him, I had been neglecting him. In the beginning, I usually checked up on my clients at least once a week, if not more. I had basically dumped Levi off at the rink and told him to train.

  I was better than this. I needed to put my own issues aside and be a decent agent to him. “What’s going on?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Let me take you out for lunch this week.”

  “I’m free tomorrow.”

  “With the exception of tomorrow.”

  He gave a humorless laugh. “Give me a call. I’m always around.”

  I watched as he turned around and disappeared out the door.

  The following day, I was coming out of a meeting and heading back to the office when my phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Krista Taylor,” a male voice drawled in my ear.

  “This is she.”

  “My name is Scott Spears. I heard you were looking for me.”

  I stopped walking. “Are you currently Levi Ziegler’s sports agent?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  I lied to him. “I’m trying to broker a deal for a friend. Someone who is interested in taking over Levi’s contract.”

  “Kid owes me over five grand in back fees and expenses.”

  “I will pass that information to the interested party.”

  “I want nothing to do with that psycho. If my expenses are covered, they can have him, plus five grand if he gets signed.”

  Spears had no idea how much money Levi was actually worth. I didn’t bother to enlighten him. “I understand your terms, but I am not sure they will be met. I will pass on the information, though. May I ask why you refer to him as a psycho?”

  “Caught the bastard trying to bust a move towards my girl. So I hit him.”