by Lucy Gilmore
She was nothing. A nobody. A blip on the cosmic human radar.
“Um, okay?” Not her most articulate response, but at least she was making all the right sounds. “It’s nice to meet you?”
He gave her hand one last squeeze before finally letting go. With another of those dazzling, dimpled smiles—this one for Penny’s benefit—he said, “I’ll have her back by second lunch, I promise. She and the dog both.”
Penny waved her hand. “Keep her all day if you want to. All week. No one around here will miss her, I promise.”
That wasn’t true, but not because Hailey was particularly beloved. There were only about five more weeks until the Puppy Cup aired, which meant the number of things she had to do were enough to make a grown woman cry. In fact, she had cried. Several times. If things today kept moving along these lines, she might even do it again.
“Thanks for the show of support, Penny, but I doubt it’ll take much more than an hour.”
Hailey took a moment to turn off her computer before grabbing her oversized bag and Bess’s leash. The golden retriever was so overburdened with her pregnancy that she wasn’t likely to make a break for it, but Hailey needed to feel like she was in control of something. This wasn’t how her life was supposed to work. She showed up to her job on time every single day. She went home and took care of whatever foster dogs were living with her at the time. Sometimes, she broke tradition and ordered takeout on the way.
Men like Cole Bennett—people like Cole Bennett—didn’t seek her out for anything unless they needed someone to pick up their mother from the airport or book an appointment for a massage.
“Now that I’m thinking about it, I have heard of second breakfast,” Cole said as they made their way past the reception desk. He seemed indifferent to the fact that everyone from the television production office was watching them, but Hailey felt like she was drowning in thoughts and emotions.
Foremost among them was that she’d never be able to live this moment down. Everyone she worked with knew how she felt about Cole Bennett—how closely she followed his career, how many of his jerseys she owned, how he was her first pick every year in the office fantasy league. For the rest of her working life, she’d be asked about everything he’d said and done, the way he smelled at close proximity.
Like clean sheets sprinkled with evergreen. Like a warm bed in the forest at dawn.
Hailey had to shake her head to clear it. This was neither the time nor the place to start thinking about this man in association with a bed. She needed to focus on the regular movements of her feet and the elevator in the distance. As long as she could make it to the elevator, she’d be fine. It was all downhill from there. Or downstairs, at the very least.
She chuckled at her own terrible pun.
“Did I say something funny?” Cole asked as they reached the elevator doors. He pushed the button and leaned against the wall as they waited for it to arrive, heedless of the receptionist pretending to water a plant behind him.
Since it was obvious he was doing his best to strike up a conversation, Hailey tried to think of something—anything—to say, but her mouth seemed to have grown temporarily detached from her brain.
“Something in my teeth, maybe?” he prodded.
The idea of something so ordinary happening to this man only increased her surreal sensation. “You’re all clear,” she said, the words wavering slightly. “Not that I would mention it if you weren’t.”
“That’s not very nice. What if my shirt was on inside out?”
“Um.” She did her best not to stare at the shirt he wore under his blazer. It was artfully faded and tight across his chest. She could even make out the faint line of his nipples underneath. “It’s not.”
“Or there was toilet paper stuck to my shoe?”
“I’m sure someone else would point it out.”
He studied her for a long moment. The building’s elevator always ran slow, but this was becoming interminable. “You’re a very odd woman,” he eventually said.
The words themselves bordered on an insult, but the way he said them didn’t. Hailey didn’t know if it was her heightened awareness of him that did it or if there really was something caressing about the way he spoke, but she felt a warm glow overtaking her. This was happening. She was having a conversation—an admittedly strange one, but still—with Cole Bennett. Who was about to drive her to the veterinarian. With her pregnant foster dog. In his own car.
“I’m not odd,” she protested, feeling faint. “I’m not anything, really.”
It was closer to the truth than he would ever know. Hailey had always walked a carefully mediocre line. She was never the most beautiful woman in any room. She’d always gotten average grades in school. She was good at her job, it was true, but should she disappear tomorrow, Jasmine would find a replacement and forget she existed within the week.
She was so busy ruminating on how mortifying it was to be so wholly without appeal that she didn’t realize—until Cole cleared his throat—that they’d been standing in silence for well over a minute.
She glanced up to find him smiling at her in a way that made her heart stop.
“I don’t think anyone will care if we chat while we wait for the elevator,” he said, a teasing lift to his perfectly molded lips. “We can talk about anything you want.”
“Um…” She willed the elevator to arrive, but she could hear it crunching to a halt several stories away. The stairs would have been a faster route, but Bess was in no condition to drag her six babies down all that concrete.
“The weather?” he prodded. “The fall of the Romans? You’ve got to give me something, or this is going to be a long drive.”
Hailey began tapping her foot. Maybe this was part of the prank. Maybe they were going to record her asking Cole Bennett his thoughts on fading democracies and then play it back to her for the rest of her working life.
“It’s too bad you aren’t a football fan, or we could always fall back on that,” he mused, running a hand along his jaw. When she still couldn’t manage to dislodge the lump in her throat far enough to form a coherent sentence, he gave in with a nod. “I always abide by lady’s choice. Complete silence it is, then.”
She could hear the receptionist clucking his disapproval in the distance, but she didn’t take offense at it. Truth be told, she was disappointed in herself. This was probably the only opportunity she’d ever have to talk to a professional football player face-to-face. It was the sort of thing that she and her father had once only dreamed of, and she was wasting it.
She managed to uncleave her tongue long enough to say, “If it’s really lady’s choice…”
Cole nodded his encouragement, his smile so friendly and warm and real that something in Hailey unhinged.
“If you don’t mind shop talk, then what I’d like to know is why you’ve been taking so many unnecessary hits this season,” she said. “I’m not sure if it’s an issue with your confidence or your arm, but you’re never going to break the Kickoff Cup Curse if you don’t do something about it.”
She realized, too late, what she’d said—and who she’d said it to.
She slapped her hand over her mouth, but a look of shock had already caused Cole’s unnaturally blue eyes to open wide. Even Bess sensed that Hailey had flung herself headfirst over a line, because the dog gave a small whine and tried to hide her head.
“I’m so sorry,” Hailey said from behind her hand. “I can’t believe I said that.”
“Don’t apologize,” Cole said, his voice slightly strangled. “You’re absolutely right.”
She was, but that didn’t make it okay. Especially since she’d said the name of the curse out loud. You weren’t even supposed to mention it in private, in secret. To say it to the face of the one man who had the power to break it was downright dangerous. Her dad had probably rolled over in his grave.
<
br /> “To be honest, I’m just glad you know who I am,” Cole added. The strangled note was still there, but Hailey could have sworn it was verging on laughter. Not outrage. Not incredulity. Laughter. “I was beginning to fear you’d never heard of me.”
Hailey was deciding whether to carry Bess down the stairs as a means of escape when the elevator gave a cheerful ding. She prepared to jump in and hide herself in the corner as fast as humanly possible, but the doors slid open to reveal the slightly harassed face of her boss.
Jasmine Jones was, without a doubt, an exceptional person to work for. The woman produced no fewer than two dozen television shows every year, most of which won awards and were watched by millions of viewers. She was always immaculate, always precise, and always polite. Hailey sometimes dreamed of what it would be like to be her—to know what to say in every situation, to issue a command with so much confidence that no one dared do anything but their best to carry it out.
It also would have been nice to look that much like Kerry Washington and to wear white pantsuits that never got a speck of dirt on them, but Hailey had never been one to wish for what she couldn’t have.
“Hailey, thank goodness.” Jasmine put a hand up to prevent the elevator doors from closing. Her voice was cool and rich, and Hailey could feel her spine straightening under the power of it. “I need you to pick up my blue dress from the dry cleaners and take it to the tailor on Third. They should have a copy of my measurements on hand, but if they don’t, you’ll have to get them from the tailor on First. You know the one.”
Hailey could only nod. The rest of her was frozen in place, trying hard not to look as though there was a dog panting heavily at her feet and a football player looming just as heavily over her shoulder.
“Good. After that, if you could pick up the lunch order I put in at Thai Garden and set it up for the meeting at the main office, I’d really appreciate it. The head honchos always approve my changes faster if I feed them. You’ll need to be back here for the light test at three, but that shouldn’t be a problem if you hurry.” Jasmine noticed the first of Hailey’s two companions and blinked. “Oh. You brought the dog with you to work. Again.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Hailey said, wincing. She knew very well that Jasmine minded, but her boss would never stoop to say so. To do so would be unprofessional, and that was the one thing Jasmine was incapable of. “It’s just that she’s been really restless the past couple of nights, and I was worried—”
“It’s my fault.”
The elevator doors had begun buzzing a protest by this time, so Cole stepped forward and took Jasmine by the hand. He somehow managed to pull her out and perform a handshake at the same time and without giving the appearance of doing anything more than politely introducing himself.
“You’re Jasmine Jones,” he added with a smile that brought his dimple out full force. It was the same move he’d made with Hailey—the smile and the foreknowledge of her name, a built-in friendliness that was almost overpowering in its design. “I can’t tell you what a fan I am of your work. That miniseries you did last year highlighting the corruption of college sports was phenomenal.”
“Oh my.” For the first time in the six years that Hailey had been working for Jasmine, her boss showed signs of being in a flutter. She blinked several times in rapid succession before lifting her hand to her chest. Toying with the top button of her blouse, she said, “Mr. Bennett. I can hardly believe it. To what do we owe the honor?”
Cole’s smile deepened, and he caught Hailey’s eye just long enough to wink. “This girl right here,” he said. Before Hailey could protest at being referred to as anything less than a woman, he added, “The dog, I mean. I hope you don’t mind me stealing her away like this, but we’d like to get her looked at. We’re worried about toxemia.”
“Toxemia?” Jasmine echoed blankly.
“I didn’t know dogs could get it, either,” Cole admitted. “But as soon as Hailey mentioned it, I could see she was right. I’m taking them both to the vet.”
Jasmine accepted this explanation for Cole’s presence with aplomb. Hailey could tell her boss was burning with questions—most of which Hailey shared—but nothing would prevail upon Jasmine to admit it. Instead, she directed a perfectly arched brow at Hailey.
“If you were worried about the dog’s health, you should have said something earlier.”
Hailey shrugged, knowing the line was just for show. Despite producing the Puppy Cup every year—their company’s most profitable show by a large margin—Jasmine wasn’t a dog person. Fostering an animal was a foreign concept to her. Fostering a pregnant animal was even stranger. Hailey still shuddered when she remembered what had happened when she’d tried to apply for a few days of maternity leave.
“That’s my fault, too,” Cole said. “I asked her not to. The less alarm we show, the better. We wouldn’t want this leaking out to the press before we’re ready. Isn’t that right, Hailey?”
Hailey nodded her agreement. There was nothing else she could do. Even if she was able to stand up to her boss—which she wasn’t—she could hardly contradict Cole Bennett after what she’d said to him.
“It’s a hell of a story,” Cole added with a soft laugh. He paused and started to play with Bess’s ears. Bess showed no shame in turning toward his touch. Like the rest of them, she was wholly under his spell. “A shelter animal in need. The Puppy Cup PA who provides it. What’s the term they use for that sort of thing? Human interest?”
Jasmine nodded along as though all of that made perfect sense, but Hailey felt a tingling along her spine. How could Cole know about any of that? Granted, she made no secret of her fostering work, but it was hardly the kind of thing to interest a man like this one.
“We’ll hash out the details when we get back,” he said with a decisive nod. “I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”
Hailey didn’t know what Jasmine’s thoughts on the subject were, but she was starting to develop plenty of her own—most of which revolved around the certain, irrevocable feeling that she was about to be asked for a kidney. There was no other explanation for any of this—for why Cole Bennett would even deign to look at her, let alone save her in front of her boss.
True, she admired him. She idolized him. She was, okay, a little bit obsessed with him. But he didn’t know any of that.
“She seems nice,” he said in a low, amused voice as Jasmine disappeared from view and the click of her heels trailed off in the distance. “And she didn’t say one word against my game play. To tell you the truth, I’m a little disappointed. It seems I could use the pointers.”
The last of Hailey’s ability to maintain rational thought fled. She was already so far out of her depth—floundering, flailing, her mouth seemingly unattached to her brain—that for Cole Bennett to laugh at her, with her, was too much.
“You want pointers?” She started regretting the words before they left her lips, but she could no more stop them than she could the Sounder train. “Then it’s not just your unnecessary hits that are a problem. I think your game has been off all season. It’s probably your worst one yet, and that includes the year you were recovering from shoulder surgery. If you didn’t have Garrett Smith to catch all your Hail Mary passes, the Lumberjacks would have no chance at making it into the Kickoff Cup this year. He’s saved you at least half a dozen times.”
“Probably more,” Cole murmured. “Is there something wrong with this elevator? Why does it take so long to get anywhere?”
Hailey could only stare. Everything she’d just said was true, but he should have been insulted to hear it—outraged, even. Did he want both her kidneys?
“It’s old,” she managed. “Old things don’t work very well.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that. Why do you think I’m having such a bad season?”
The elevator finally opened its sluggish doors again—and a good thing, to
o, because Hailey had no idea how to respond. Cole Bennett wasn’t old. At least he wasn’t old in quarterback years. At thirty-two, he was a young buck compared to many of the more veteran players who graced the annals of sports history. If he played his cards right, he could last another decade on the field, delighting the masses and reaping his millions.
“Well?” he asked as he stepped inside. “Are you coming, or am I going to have to call Garrett and ask him to carry you down? I’m happy to do it, but I should warn you that he doesn’t take criticism as well as I do. You’ll probably make him cry.”
Hailey opened her mouth and closed it again, her whole body flushing with embarrassment. There was nothing she could say—and even less she could do—to redeem herself after this. When faced with the most beautiful and talented man in the world, she didn’t swoon or faint or even grow weak in the knees.
Apparently, she critiqued—and she critiqued hard.
Which was why, as she gave Bess’s leash a gentle tug, she was both horrified and surprised to hear herself say, “Garrett has nothing to fear from me. His ability to find an opening in a packed end zone is nothing short of miraculous. He should be very proud of himself.”
Cole’s whole body stilled. He didn’t make any sort of sound, either, but she was pretty sure he was laughing at her. Again.
“Is there anyone on my team you don’t have a strong opinion about?” He shook his head before she could say anything. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t think my ego could take another blow.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about your ego,” she shot back. “I doubt there’s much it couldn’t survive.”
And there it was. She’d done the unthinkable. She’d lost control of her mind and her mouth, and now she was going to have to suffer through the entire elevator ride with the personal hero she’d just insulted to his face.