by Ana Shay
She started adjusting her hair, dancing on her feet. Her nerves were showing, and I liked that I brought it out of her. "Hey Cali, it's good to see you again." I couldn't help smiling when I took her in. I was never one for a secretary fantasy, but seeing her like this made me want to hire her as my personal PA. "I just wanted to check how your wrist was doing after yesterday." Her hand was still delicately wrapped. When I reached out to touch it. She snatched it away before I could get too close, rubbing it instinctively.
"Yesterday?!" Mary sputtered out, looking between us before training her eyes on Cali, waiting for an explanation. So, she hadn’t mentioned our encounter. Interesting. I didn’t know whether to be excited that she wanted to keep me a secret or annoyed that she was trying to forget me. Not that I would let the latter happen.
"Yeah," Cali starts, picking at the fabric on her bandage. "I bumped into Tate after the game while I was getting my wrist wrapped." She says, almost guilty.
"And you didn't tell me?" Mary was shocked and annoyed.
She tried to hush her friend, "Let's save this for another time." Turning back to me, Cali smiled, avoiding direct eye contact. "Thank you, Tate." She pauses, thinking about what to say next. "For coming and checking on me, but as you can see. I'm fine." She held up her wrist like it was a world series ring, smiling tightly. Between the two of them, I felt like I'd walked in on something I shouldn't have. That’s when I look around; the whole office is watching us. I’m used to people watching me, but maybe she isn’t. What if she’s shy and doesn’t like the attention? That could be why she ran out on me so quickly the other day.
"Tate, sorry to interrupt." Some dudebro says behind me, acting like we’d been introduced. He ignored my scowl as he patted me on the shoulder and smirked at Cali. She didn’t notice because she was studying her heels. Jet black and six inches high. How did I not see those before? They just add to the hot teacher look. "I'm Josh, " The guy continues as if I'm listening. All I’m focused on are the mile-long legs in front of me. "And I just wanted to apologize for your run-in with our mascot yesterday." He says, giving Cali another stern look as she shuffled back to her desk, sitting in her office chair. "I trust Catty was better behaved today?"
"Yeah," I say, finally clawing my attention in his direction. Only I had to look down to see him. Way down. Is everyone short in this department except Cali? "Catty was fantastic. The crowd loved him, and he’s got fantastic dance moves." I emphasized, hoping Cali was listening. I wanted her to be impressed that I remembered she’d choreographed it. My head may have been full of some fantasy haze yesterday, but I was hanging off her every word. Josh snorted. It was gross and full of snot. He was the type of guy you wanted to swat away, like an annoying gnat.
Cali pretended to ignore the conversation behind her by typing furiously while she stared at the screen. She’s listening, though. I know because every time one of us starts talking, her fingers slow. "I'm sorry for all the press attention as well," Josh said, adjusting his tie. Is he still talking?
"Isn't that what you guys want?" The tap, tap, tapping has slowed again. I smirk because she thinks she’s subtle.
The incident was all over the sports networks last night, and every outlet wants to interview me. My publicist is ecstatic. Positive publicity is something I’ve been lacking since Sam decided to take our break up public. At least with this story, I can embrace the crazy.
Josh jittered. “Well, yes. We did like the boost in followers, but we don’t like it being at the expense of our most beloved player." I rolled my eyes; this guy was a serious suck-up.
"Ah, I couldn’t care less about social media. I don’t have it.” After Sam decided to post pictures of her ‘cheating’ on me with this NFL Tight End, I got rid of it. Fans kept sending me videos and making comments about it. I was trolled, and that was fine. I drew the line when they started harassing my sister. Still in college, she didn’t need that kind of attention. He grinned crookedly while I grabbed his hand to shake it. It was clammy and rough all at the same time. "Jared."
"It's Josh." He corrected as though I cared. The only thing I cared about was this blonde thing beside me and getting this guy away as quickly as possible.
"Right, Josh. Thanks for checking with me, but I'm fine. Now, would you mind if I had a chat with Cali?" I asked purposely. At this point, I didn’t care if he knew I was interested. It’s not like she’s giving me the time of day anyway.
Josh looked between Cali and me. Why does everyone seem so shocked I want to talk to her? She's hot as hell. "Right. Of course. Of course. Sorry. Good luck with the game tomorrow." Finally getting the hint, he walks off, leaving Cali typing slowly, staring at the screen like it holds all the answers to life. She’s refusing to turn and look at me behind her.
Her typing slows which each passing step I make towards her. I really didn’t think she could get any slower, but she does. I quietly rest on the right side of her desk and watch as her eyes home in on my left ass cheek which has taken refuge against the wood. Her eyes dragged up, getting wider the more she took me in. I think she might have a thing for uniforms. I adjusted one of the buttons while her eyes crept up my chest. A very tiny and low yelp escaped her lips. She’s definitely got a thing for this uniform. Ideas of how I could torture her run rampant through my mind. I need to get her number first, though.
"Hey, Cali." I drawled out, slowly watching her chew her bottom lip. I smiled once her eyes finally meet mine.
"He- hey," She stuttered back.
Dramatically, I looked around her cubicle. Making a point to look at her Tate bobbleheads, her Tate numbers, and the Tate calendar. "So, you didn't know who I was, huh?" I quirked my eyebrow in a mocking question.
Her back straightened, gaining a little more confidence, "I never denied knowing who you were. I just thought it was presumptuous to assume I knew."
The way she teased me made my lip twitch. "Is it presumptuous to assume that you might have a slight obsession with me?" I couldn’t help asking and held back my laughter when I saw her stunned expression.
Closing her eyes, she took her time responding. "Just because I think you're the best player Charlotte has ever had doesn't mean I'm obsessed." She reasons, completely ignoring the fact that there’s a game ball with my signature on it rolling behind her. I wondered what game that was from. I’m sure Cali would know.
"No. You're right. But the homemade Tate Sorenson calendar does." I pointed behind her. Her obsession should scare me away. I should be worried she's nothing but a cleat chaser. However, the fact she's doing everything she can to get me to leave her alone suggests she might only be interested in my stats. Leaning in closer so only she could hear me. I say, "Now, I do have a question. Am I only in a towel every month?" I winked.
"No. It's only for April." She mumbled. "Because of the April Showers." So she likes a good pun.
Nodding my head, "Ah, that makes sense." I pick up one of her bobbleheads. Or should I say, one of my bobbleheads, whacking the top of its helmet. Cali's eye shuddered. That’s a tell if I ever saw one. I'm guessing she collects these things, and she’s worried I’ll break it. I’ve got hundreds of these in my storage container that I’d willingly give her if it meant she’d let me take her out. "So, as you know, I'm going to Philadelphia tonight for our first away game." She watched me diligently as I gently placed the bobblehead down.
"Yeah,"
I looked down at her, losing my train of thought when I noticed her button-up shirt was gapping and the slightest hint of cleavage was popping out in the form of a white lacey bra. My jaw flexed. This girl is torture in an office skirt. Forcing myself to look back into her eyes, I say. "I'll be lonely on the bus..."
She scoffed, "It can’t be that lonely; you've got the 40-man roster with you." Why is she busting my balls? I know she wants this. The fact my face is plastered everywhere tells me as much. I've come all the way up here just to talk to her, and she's turning me down left, right and center. I thought surely she’d appreciate
all the effort I made in trying to find her.
"Why talk to them when I could talk to you?" I figured I’d try a more direct approach. I leaned in closer to her. She took in a deep breath, doing her best to pretend I didn’t affect her. The rosy cheeks gave her game away.
"And how are you going to talk to me?" She asked with a hint of humor. Still trying to keep up the façade. Either that or she caught me peeking down her shirt.
I casually shrugged my shoulder, enjoying the banter, "You're going to give me your number." I grinned, she chuckled. It’s the first time she's cracked, with her body relaxing. I think I might be in with a chance.
"You're not getting my number." She quipped, turning back to her computer, trying to ignore my giant frame covering half of it. I had moved so close to her; I was practically sitting on her keyboard. She checked her phone, playing nonchalance until her thumb froze. I looked down at what had gotten her so flustered and laughed. There’s a picture of me licking my fingers suggestively as her home screen.
Just as I'm about to tease her, that guy Josh yells from his office. "Cali!" Her face falls. What an ass. He can see she’s busy. Cali immediately jumped with that skittish animal look sprawled across her face again. I swear I heard her let out a small whimper.
"I've got to go," She said, scrambling out of the cubicle, leaving me watching her cute ass as she left. Well, that went well. She doesn't take a second look back at me, focusing all her attention on Josh, who watches her the whole way to his office. As she walks in, Josh slammed the door shut, silencing the entire office while they watched the scene unfold. Cali’s in trouble for something, but I have no idea what.
I roll my body back towards her desk. I guess that means no number for me then. I glanced across her workstation, grabbing the Catfish post-it notes and the baseball pen she had lying next to her mouse pad. Scrawling my number down, I asked her to call me and stuck the note on her home screen.
This isn't the end between us, far from it.
Chapter 5
"Could I get a Venti Iced Caramel Cloud Macchiato, please?" I asked the barista in line, thankful there’s a mall attached to the stadium. I need my morning fix to think straight, and the coffee in the office sucks. And if there was ever a day I needed to think straight, it was today. I needed to focus and do well at my job. I was already on thin ice with Josh after the Catty incident. Fraternizing with Tate just added more fuel to the fire.
My fingers tapped against my bag, thinking about all the things I needed to do today to make Josh hate me less. It felt like an uphill battle, but I was determined to prove him wrong and show him I belonged here.
Chewing my bottom lip, I think back to yesterday when I came back to my desk. Joshed shouted at me for the better part of thirty minutes. I was feeling down and demoralized when I slumped back into my seat. I hated admitting it, but Tate’s note made me smile.
I still can’t get my head around the idea that Tate wanted my number and to take me out on a date. I tried to act professional, pretending that looking at him didn’t make my panties melt, but the closer he got, the more my defenses crumbled. I suppose I should be thankful that Josh interrupted us because it was at the point that I just started to flirt with him. Something I shouldn’t be doing if I wanted to keep my job. And I desperately wanted to keep it.
"Make that two, please." Mary elbowed me in the shoulder as she saddled up beside me. “I'll pay for the next one.” She offered while I got out an extra note to pay for hers. "So, when were you going to tell me about Tate?" She cooed, her eyes twinkling with interest.
"There’s nothing to tell," I shrugged, slightly bashful about the whole thing. "I bumped into him in one of the first aid rooms after I accidently made him an internet sensation. That's it." I kept it vague, hoping that would satiate her.
"Clearly, that's not just it.” She cocked an eyebrow, judging me. “He came up to the office still in his cleats to find you. I swear when he stopped me, I was drooling. I could practically see the sweat dripping under his shirt.” A pang of something shot through me. Jealousy? Surely not. I’ve only just talked to him. It’s not like anything can happen between us anyway.
"He left me his number after I was called to Josh’s office,” I said almost territorially.
Squealing, she jumped up and down, pulling on my sweater like a little kid who just discovered Frozen for the first time. "I knew he was into you! You guys are the perfect match. Not just because you're both giants, but you're obsessed with him. And he’s clearly obsessed with you too."
"Cali," The barista called, giving me no time to argue with Mary. As we grabbed our drinks, her last statement sunk in. Tate is obsessed with me. I wanted to laugh. Nothing about his behavior screamed obsession. That label was just for me.
"You know, I'm surprised he still gave you his number after seeing your desk. It has killer Tate stalker written all over it." She giggled.
"Yeah,” I sighed, “Well, I think he gets off on that." Closing my eyes, I continued, "When I first met him, I was wearing a Sorenson jersey. Not out of choice. I just grabbed whatever I could from the lost and found box.” Shrugging, I glanced at Mary’s amused reaction. “Maybe he thinks I'm an easy lay. You know because I’m his biggest fan." That thought had run through my mind several times. My favorite player could view me as the ultimate conquest. Like I’m a game. When I think back to how strongly he came on to me, he certainly made me feel like he was ready to win.
I took a slow swig of my coffee, hoping the shot of caffeine would cover the pang of sadness in the pit of my stomach. I don't know much about Tate outside of his incredible stats and butterscotch eyes. Before starting in the Marketing department, I tended to ignore those rag mags in the grocery line, even if Tate’s face was on them. I know his last break-up was messy. That’s something Mary talked about last year, but besides that, I really don’t know much.
"Please. Your whole aura gives off ball buster, not easy fangirl." She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. “That’s why people rarely ask you out. Before you say it, no, it’s not because of your height. It’s because you’ve got this permanent wall around you. It makes you look like hard work.”
I narrowed my eyes, studying her in disbelief. It’s definitely my height. I’ve had guys ask me out before and then rescinded the offer after I stood up. I know my place. “I don’t know. I still think he’s after the conquest.” I didn’t want to believe it, but it felt safer to think that than get my hopes up on a guy that I shouldn’t be fraternizing with anyway.
She looked at me encouragingly, "Why don’t you go out with him and find out? It might do you some good. It has been a while." She just had to go there, didn’t she? She just had to remind me of Dan, the intellectual (his own description) who hated sports, especially baseball. I don't know what I was thinking, I literally got nothing out of that relationship, and I have no idea why I stuck around for so long. Oh, wait, yes I do; he was 6 foot 1.
"Because isn't it illegal to date a player?" I quirk my eyebrow.
"Illegal?" She asked, hiding her laugh.
"Yeah, I'm already skating on thin ice with Josh. He'll fire me if I do something like that.”
She stopped us in our tracks to stare straight up at me. "Okay, there's all kinds of wrong with that last statement. Let’s be clear, nowhere in your contract does it stipulate that fraternizing with the players is off-limits. I know because I wrote the damn thing last year. Secondly, he can't fire you. You're the reason our mascot's Instagram has over half a million followers, and we've been streamed on mainstream media for the last week." I know he can’t fire me yet. If he does, he’ll have to explain why the most followed mascot can’t come out.
"Don't remind me." I rumble, walking towards the stadium entrance. It still annoyed me that the only reason I knew my job was safe for now was because of Tim’s injury.
"Josh, of course, would be ticked, but not because you broke some unspoken rule. It's because he's got some weird obsession with you."
"No, he doesn't.” She paused. “I think it’s because he has a tall girl fantasy." She gave me the once over. I waited for the punchline, but nothing happened. She cackled when she saw my face.
My flesh crawled at the idea, my whole body shivering in disgust. "Stop! That’s an image I could do without being burned in my brain forevermore."
She grimaced, "Sorry.” She didn’t look very sorry. “But now that I've cleared that up and you’re free to do whatever you want with Tate, are you going to go for it?" She asked excitedly. Sounds like a dream, right? Baseball player and biggest fan get it on. It’s definitely a dream. One that won’t happen.
"No." I quipped, walking quickly ahead and waiting for her to catch up on those tiny legs of hers.
"Cali. Did you hear yourself?” She scrambled her way towards me, careful not to spill her drink. “Your celebrity crush wants to get to know you, and you're just going to brush him off for no good reason. Except that maybe you're chicken."
We stood in the elevator, watching the doors shut. I took a long sip of my coffee. "I'm not chicken," I stated calmly. I'm not. I did a lot of thinking about this last night while staring at his number on that post-it note. “Have you ever idolized someone so much that you’re worried if you got to know them, it would ruin the image of them?” She shook her head. “What if Tate turns out to be this crazy lothario who uses me to get off and then drops me like one of those hot potatoes I had for lunch yesterday?”