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The Love Triangle
Nic Tatano
Public relations expert Lexi Harlow is the queen of getting her clients out of sticky situations. But can she do it for herself?After an incendiary breakup (setting fire to her cheating boyfriend’s pants), Lexi decides to play the field for the first time in her life. Two suitors are vying for her affections: New York’s most eligible bachelor and pro quarterback Jake Frost, and sports agent Kyle Caruso. But when the athlete hires the agent, and both enlist her services to take care of public relations, well…There’s only one way Lexi can get out of this love triangle before everything blows up in her face: choose one.But when the candle she’s burning at both ends meets in the middle, the choice is no longer hers.



The Love Triangle
NIC TATANO


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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2016
Copyright © Nic Tatano 2016
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Cover design by Alex Allden
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is available from the British Library
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entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © March 2016 ISBN: 9780008173647
Version 2016-03-10

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Table of Contents
Cover (#u719f5ca1-b376-54f4-ae7b-ec4fe1c68993)
Title Page (#u13c3a015-5a9a-56dc-a0d2-4c110b190a71)
Copyright (#u93191958-a4bf-57e9-a693-3408526b4821)
Praise for Nic Tatano’s Debut Wing Girl (#u796d4496-ad84-5f2a-83f2-af2e1586dcc2)
Dedication (#u20cfeb4f-ab97-569f-a357-afdf1d704ca9)
Chapter One (#uabe40e74-b2da-5126-bfaf-ecc6c42c7190)

Chapter Two (#uf88eae5b-6083-519a-bcb1-0c5ee2515367)

Chapter Three (#u6bbc681c-2f8b-52f2-9d02-4a7687812fec)

Chapter Four (#u1c86eaea-7dc4-5adc-a7c0-0832c7c13186)

Chapter Five (#ud45b8121-8c62-5b01-b9ce-6f1c694a1690)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by Nic Tatano (#litres_trial_promo)

About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#u16de3490-b687-5f7f-9bc7-ff7357c213a2)
“Let me get this straight. Your family values candidate, the United States Congressman, who is the paragon of conservatism, gets caught by his wife having an affair with a hooker, who used to be a man in a previous life. But wait, there’s more! Said Congressman was bent over the hooker’s knee being spanked with a riding crop, while he’s wearing a pink tu-tu, and you want to know how we can spin this?” Lexi Harlow shoved her shoulder-length red tangles behind her ears as she stared at the speakerphone.
“Lexi, you’re in charge of our public relations. I thought you might have a suggestion to make this situation disappear.”
She rubbed her temples as she glanced at the one-word front page headline of The New York Post, which featured a cartoon of the Congressman and read Giddyup. Ittold her that her biggest client was history and serious money problems were on the way. “You wanna make this disappear? Try looking in the Yellow Pages under magicians.”
“Be serious, Lexi. I’m the New York state party chairman and we need to make this go away.”
“Go away? Todd, that barn door has sailed. The Congressman is a national joke. No one can make this go away. He’s toast. And please don’t use the typical politician excuse and call it an error in judgment and have his wife sing the stand-by-your-man tune.”
“How about something saying we’re being a more inclusive party?”
She rolled her emerald green eyes. “Sure, we’ll call it the rainbow coalition for prostitutes. Look, Todd, I like you and have enjoyed working with you. But trust me, this one is un-fixable. Every other PR person in town will tell you the same thing. The guy is radioactive.” She looked up and saw her assistant standing in the doorway. “And I gotta go. My advice to you is to have the man resign and get him off the front page and the late night talk shows before it does more damage to the party and the future candidates you will hopefully send me next year.”
She heard the man sigh. “Lexi, I’m sorry this happened. I know you just started your agency and how much work you put into the campaign. And your work was terrific.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“If it weren’t so close to election day, I’d get you another account, but everything is set. But I promise I’ll have something for you next year.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, if you do think of anything, give me a call.”
“Sure. Hang in there, Todd. Bye.” She hit the button on her speakerphone, shook her head, leaned back in her chair and stretched out her five-foot-five frame as she turned to her assistant. “What?”
“And good morning to you too.” Chandler, her tall, British, slender thirty-year-old assistant moved into her office, took a seat opposite her desk and studied her face with his pale blue eyes as he swept his mop of sandy hair out of his face. “From your current expression along with the front page of The Post I would surmise there was a significant amount of ammonia covering the rolled bits of grain in your morning meal.”
“Chandler, I know you’re smarter than me and like showing it off, but next time just say you look likesomeone pissed in your corn flakes.”
He shrugged and offered a slight smile. “This from the woman who just said that barn door has sailed.”
“Fine, point taken. But, my dear assistant, as you no doubt have surmised, we lost our biggest client when the Congressman decided to play Fifty Shades of Politics. I was up all night knowing we were in trouble. Which is why I look like I just had a colonoscopy with an umbrella.”
Chandler slowly nodded. “There was nothing you could do. The Congressman was a bad, bad boy.”
“Yeah, but usually you get spanked after you’re bad. Anyway, the big problem we need to immediately address is how to replace a client who made up more than seventy percent of our income.”
He gave her a soulful look. “Lexi, we’re in this for the long haul. My salary increase can wait, if that will help. Or you can hold back a couple of paychecks.”
“That’s a wonderful gesture, Chandler, but don’t be ridiculous. We’ll find some new clients. And you’re more than my assistant. You’ve become like an extra brother.”
“But if—”
She put up her hand. “End of discussion. We’ll make do. I’ll eat mac and cheese for a month to keep this place afloat. I’ve worked too hard to get this business started and I’m not going to let a kinky client sink it.” A drop of water pinged into the steel bucket in the corner. She looked up at the stained ceiling. “Considering the leaks in this dump, that remark might turn out to be literal. Dammit, if the Congressman had won we would have gotten the bonus and we could have moved to a decent office. Hopefully one where we can’t hear the people upstairs through the air vent.”
“So what’s the game plan?”
“Find some new clients. Plural. I’ve just discovered what happens when you put all your eggs in one basket. You would think a woman who just turned thirty would have learned that already.”
He nodded. “I agree. Multiple small and medium-sized clients would be best. Perhaps you’ll find a few at that conference this afternoon. You’re quite adept at face-to-face interaction.”
She stood up. “Maybe so. But right now I need to think. So I’m going to shoot some hoops.”
“We just lost our biggest client and you’re going to play basketball?”
“Everything becomes perfectly clear to me when I’m doing something mindless. Besides, I need to blow off some steam. I don’t need to approach potential clients or give a talk to a few hundred people when I’m this pissed off. And right now my Irish temper is at DEFCON 1.”
***
Kyle Caruso, known by Kasey to close friends thanks to his initials, laced up his sneakers as he sat on the bench next to his buddies. The weekly basketball game did wonders for his stress levels, especially since the thirty-year-old sports agent refused to deal with clients behaving badly. Million dollar contracts and immaturity did not mix well. The gym was pretty deserted at this time of the morning, the only sounds coming from a woman bouncing a basketball at the other end of the court. He watched her for a moment as he wrapped a headband around his thick black hair, olive green eyes wide as he noted she was nailing every shot with nothing but net. His best friend Jim Baldwin grabbed the seat next to him. “Hey, Jimbo, ready to go?”
“Kasey, we got a problem. Jackson is stuck in court all day. So we only got nine players. We’re one short.”
“Well, shit. Anyone else wandering around the gym?”
He shook his head. “Already checked.” Jim cocked his head at the woman playing at the other end. “How about that redhead. Looks like she’s got a killer jump shot.”
Kyle furrowed his brow as he looked at her. “She’s only a little thing. Might get hurt.”
“You know, at five-seven and one-fifty you’re not exactly LeBron James and we let you play.”
“Very funny.”
“Well, it’s either ask her to join us or one of us sits out. And you know damn well no one wants to sit out.”
“Fine, let’s see if she’ll play.”
The two men got up and headed toward the slender woman, who was totally focused on the basket. Kyle couldn’t help but note she was beyond cute, despite being soaked with sweat, flaming red hair gathered up behind her head, matching headband and a ton of freckles, while her movements were incredibly fluid. “Excuse me…”
She took a shot, made it and turned to face them.
Damn, what spectacular eyes … they look like the Caribbean.
“Yeah?”
Jim took the lead. “We’re short one guy for a game. Wanna join us?”
She mopped her brow. “If you’re short one guy, why you asking me?”
“Cause you look like you’ve got game,” said Jim.
She scrunched up her face a bit as she tapped her chin with one finger. “Let me guess. There aren’t any other men in the gym, right?”
Kyle rolled his eyes and put up his hands in surrender. “Hey, forget it. Sorry we bothered you—”
“No, please forgive the attitude. It’s already been a rough day. Sure, I’ll play.” She moved closer and looked up at him. “But only if this one thinks he can guard me.”
Jim started to laugh. “Ooooh, she’s thrown down the gauntlet. I want Little Red on my team.”
She locked eyes with Kyle for a moment and smiled. “Okay then. Let’s rock.”
Jim stuck out his hand to shake. “He’s Kasey. I’m Jimbo.”
She shook Jim’s hand, then did the same to Kyle. “Nice to meet you guys.”
“And you are?” asked Kyle.
“Didn’t you hear your friend? Just call me Little Red.”
***
The redhead moved toward Kyle as the game started, at one point dribbling between her legs and behind her back, like one of the Harlem Globetrotters, while totally focused on him. He couldn’t help but be impressed as he moved forward to guard her. Her eyes looked at him for a moment, then darted around the court as it was obvious she was going to pass the ball. She raised her hand slightly and he knew she was about to pass to his right. He reached for the ball and found nothing but air as she dribbled behind her back in the other direction and left him in the dust, then pulled up and sank a long three-pointer as his feet got tangled up. He hit the floor and one of his sneakers came off.
Everyone laughed as her teammates moved forward and gave her a high five.
Jim offered a hand to help Kyle off the floor as he put his sneaker back on. “Damn, Little Red faked you out of your shoes.”
Kyle glared at Jim as he took his friend’s hand and stood up, finding the redhead looking at him while she had the ball pressed between her forearm and her side. She didn’t say anything to rub it in, didn’t smile. Just looked at him.
“What?”
She shrugged. “Your ball.” She tossed it to him.
Then gave him a wink.
Okay, the gloves are coming off.
Kyle took the ball out of bounds, then started dribbling up the court. She moved forward to guard him, her arms wide. He stopped and held the ball up over his head, where she couldn’t get it since he guessed she was a couple inches shorter. He turned away for a moment to look for an open teammate—
And she jumped, slapped it out of his hands, headed in the other direction and sank an easy layup shot.
Everyone laughed again.
Jim slapped Kyle on the back. “Never thought I’d see the day when you got your ass kicked by a hundred pound woman.”
***
Kyle sat on the bench after the game, totally exhausted with his head against the cool concrete wall, dripping sweat and out of breath. The redhead had totally wiped the floor with him. He looked over as everyone gathered up their gym bags and headed for the showers. The woman was smiling and laughing as she shook hands with the guys, then headed in his direction.
She stopped right in front of him. “You need some oxygen? Paramedic? CPR?”
“Funny.”
She stuck out her hand. “Hey, I’m kidding. Good game.”
“Yeah, right. Maybe for you.”
“I said good game. You’re supposed to shake the hand of your opponent after we’re done. Unless you’re some sort of sore loser.”
“No. You played great and I admit you kicked my ass.” He shook her hand as he studied her face. “You play in college or something?”
“Nope.”
“High school?”
“Uh-uh. Just the court in the old neighborhood. And I’ve got four brothers well over six feet tall. So I had to learn to shoot three-pointers and control the ball or I was toast.”
“Well, you’re a hell of a player.”
“Thank you.”
“You come here often?” he asked.
“That the best line you can come up with? We’re not in a bar.”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“Again, I’m kidding! I like to shoot to blow off steam and, like I said, the day got off to a really bad start. Anyway, this was fun. Hadn’t played an actual game in a while. Thanks for inviting me.” She waved at him. “Well, see ya—”
She started to walk away. “Hey. I didn’t get your name.”
She turned and smiled. “Sure you did. Little Red.” She winked and headed for the women’s locker room.
Jim came over and patted him on the back as they both watched her walk away. “Girl sure had your number today.”
“Yeah. Wish I had hers.”
***
Lexi looked out at the crowd of about two hundred in the large hotel meeting room and grabbed the sides of the podium. “Okay, that’s my take on spin doctoring, and we’ve got a few minutes left, so I’ll be happy to take questions.”
A woman in the front row raised her hand. “You didn’t mention that you handle the PR for Congressman Bensen. How are you going to deal—”
“Handled, past tense. As of this morning, he is no longer my client. There are simply some situations that are not spinnable, if that’s even a word, and this was one of them. I officially cut ties with his campaign this morning. While political accounts can be very lucrative, being associated with a situation like that isn’t worth the money or the trouble. And it wouldn’t do much for my reputation. While all of us in public relations occasionally have to deal with people and companies we don’t particularly like, there are some lines I personally can’t cross. Meanwhile, if there’s a politician in the audience who does not own an outfit from the Joffrey Ballet and doesn’t have anyone going to the whip at the top of the stretch, I’ll be happy to talk to you.”
The crowd laughed as she pointed to a woman in the back with her hand raised. “Yes…”
“Suppose this was your garden variety cheating politician, without the tu-tu and riding crop and all the ridicule that came with that. How would you have handled it?”
“Same outcome. I would have quit. But told his wife to clean him out on the way. Honestly, I have no tolerance for infidelity, personally or professionally. I may be old-fashioned in that respect, but that’s a deal-breaker for me. So there’s no such thing as a garden-variety extra-marital affair. If you’re breaking a sacred vow, which I consider marriage to be, it doesn’t matter if you wanna play prima ballerina or pretend you’re running in the Kentucky Derby while you’re cheating. I realize there have been plenty of politicians who have resurrected their careers after being caught, but I’m not interested in that kind of client. I have to look myself in the mirror at the end of the day. One more question.” She pointed to a very young man in the middle of the auditorium. “Yes.”
“Ms. Harlow, I’m about to graduate with a degree in public relations and I’d like to learn from a real-life spin girl. Can I come work for you?”
The crowd laughed as she smiled. “Now how did you know I needed a nickname? But sadly, young man, I do not have any openings as I run a two-person agency. But that’s the kind of spunk you need to survive in this business. Be bold and believe in yourself. That’s half the battle. And, remember, it is never the wrong time to do the right thing.”
***
Lexi bounded up the stairs to her apartment carrying a grocery bag of goodies. Knocking off work early after a sleepless night and a tough Friday and cooking dinner for her boyfriend would take her mind off the money situation. She’d gotten a great reception at the conference, handed out a ton of business cards and met some possible future clients. Things would get better for her agency.
And people had started calling her Spin Girl. The name had stuck. Hopefully it would get around and help to single her out from her competition.
But right now she desperately needed a hug from Dave. And probably a lot more from the hunky actor on the hot new sitcom who turned her on like no man ever had and was the best-looking guy she’d ever dated. Their two-year relationship was a bright spot in her life, as he had been her oasis when things were going rough for her professionally. Tonight was the night she would ask him to move in with her. Hell, because he had roommates and she lived by herself, he spent most nights at her apartment anyway and had a key to the place. She had two hours to get dinner and herself ready.
She heard voices as she put the key in the door. “Dammit, I left the TV on again.” She opened it and what she saw made her jaw drop along with the groceries.
The television set was off.
The voices were coming from behind the bedroom door. And there was no TV in that room.
Her pulse spiked as she quickly moved to the bedroom, opened the door and found the source of the noise.
Dave, naked, his amazing physique bathed in candlelight. Wrists tied to the bedposts with neckties that she’d given him as gifts.
With a top-heavy blonde she recognized as his co-star straddling him.
Lexi put her hands on her hips as her emotions exploded. “You sonofabitch!”
Dave’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit! Babe, I can explain. We’re rehearsing a scene—”
“Oh, give me a friggin’ break!”
The blonde quickly pulled the sheets around her as Dave managed to get one arm free and tried to reach over the edge of the bed for his pants.
Lexi was quicker and snatched them off the floor. “Oh, you need these?” She held the slacks in front of him.
“Lexi, please. This means nothing—”
“It means a helluva lot to me. It means you can’t be trusted.” She pointed at the door as her blood reached the boiling point. “Get! Out!”
“Lexi, calm down—”
“Out!”
“Fine, just give me my pants.” He turned to the blonde. “Untie my other wrist.”
Lexi kept her eyes locked on him as she reached behind her and opened the window that led to the fire escape. She held his linen slacks over the burning candle and they went up like a torch. She tossed them out on the fire escape, where they quickly became a ball of flame.
“Dammit, Lexi, there was five hundred bucks in the pocket!”
“Hey, you’re on a hit TV show. Call it money to burn, asshole. Besides, she only looks like a twenty-dollar whore, so go hit an ATM if you need to pay her.” She saw the blonde start to creep around the bed for her own clothes, but Lexi grabbed them as well and tossed them out the window into the fire. “Wow, silk goes up even faster! Who knew? Now both of you get the hell out of my apartment!”
The blonde slipped on a bra and panties. “In our underwear?”
Lexi whipped out her cell phone and placed a call. “Yeah, sorry, I don’t own anything from the fall Extreme Silicone collection.” The call connected. “Hey, Frankie, grab your camera and get outside our building right now. Catch a rising sitcom star in his tighty whiteys. And his bimbo co-star spilling out of a bra.”
Dave’s eyes went wide. “Who the hell did you call?”
“Paparazzo who lives downstairs. I owed him a favor. Now get out before I set you on fire!”

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_333382bb-6726-5e70-988b-0b41d331c01a)
Kyle Caruso knew what was coming when he opened the door to his office on Monday morning.
One of his new clients had gotten in trouble late Saturday night and needed damage control, quick.
His executive assistant, who also happened to be his older sister, Donna, looked up as he entered the office. “Busy already?” he asked.
“Fuhgeddaboudit,” she said, in her familiar thick New York accent. She handed him a fistful of pink message slips. “Phone’s been ringin’ off the hook. I’ve been tryin’ to keep the media at bay.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. Never expected him to do something so stupid. He seemed like a straight arrow.”
The petite curvy brunette took his arms. “Well, you need to take care of the situation before you get on that plane. The media aint goin’ away on this.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Look, Kyle, with you on the road so much looking for new clients, I think it’s time we got some public relations help, and I think I found the right person. Did you listen to the podcast I gave you from the PR conference I went to on Friday?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Interesting stuff.”
“I particularly liked that woman who dumped the Congressman as a client. The one they were calling Spin Girl after her talk. Sounds like she’s got some high standards. Just what we need.”
“You’re right. She was impressive.”
“Of course I’m right. I’m your older, wiser sister and I know how to look out for my little brother. That’s why I grabbed her business card.” Donna handed it to him. “Why don’t you give her a call? Maybe she’s free today and can help you out.”
***
Lexi entered her office, head held high despite the events of the weekend. While walking in on her boyfriend was emotionally crushing, her revenge chromosome was a dominant one, and she took pleasure in the aftermath thanks to her neighbor the paparazzo, who had taken some terrific photos which ended up splashed across a major newspaper. Chandler looked up and studied her face as he stood up to greet her holding a handful of pink message slips. “Lexi, are you okay?”
She nodded and smiled. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“I surmised that after catching your significant other in flagrante delicto with a woman whose hourglass figure has a good deal of sand in the top that your mood might be a somewhat dour one.”
“In other words, you thought I’d be pissed off after catching the sonofabitch nailing a woman who defies the laws of gravity as they apply to halter tops.”
“Basically.”
“Hey, better I know now that I can’t trust someone than after I go down the aisle with him. And I got even.”
“He got what he deserved. I knew he was wrong for you.”
“You’ve said that so many times.”
“Perhaps someday in the future you might start listening to me.” He folded his arms. “Alexandra Rebecca Harlow, you’re too trusting with men. You have to be careful. You’re too much of an open book with men you just meet. You have to play your cards closer to the vest.”
“Yeah, I know. And stop doing the full name thing with me. You’re not my dad.”
“And you knew Dave had a reputation as a player—”
“Okay! I get it! I’ll have the CIA vet the next guy who asks me out and send me a dossier.”
“I’m just looking out for your future endeavors in the romance department.”
“Fine, Chandler, enough about my love life, or lack thereof right now. What’s with all the messages this early in the day?”
“Your talk at the conference seems to be paying dividends. We’ve already had a few calls from prospective new clients.” He handed her the message slips as the phone rang.
Chandler answered the call as she headed for her office while looking at the messages. One decent-sized corporation, a couple of small businesses and a politician she knew to be a decent human being mounting a campaign for next year. She was about to reach for the phone to return the calls when Chandler stuck his head in the door. “Yes, Chandler?”
“Interesting prospect on the line. Sports agent for Noah Washington, the young man from the New York Jets who found himself in a difficult situation Saturday night.”
“Yeah, I read the paper. Sports agent, huh?”
“They usually have deep pockets. At least the players do. Anyway, a gentleman named Kyle Caruso is on the phone and needs immediate help. And he sounds like he needs it yesterday.”
“Great, thanks.” She grabbed a pen to take notes as she answered the call. “Hi, Mister Caruso, this is Lexi Harlow. What can I do for you?”
“Thanks for taking my call, Lexi. And please call me Kyle. I realize I’m not a client but I heard the podcast of your talk Friday and really liked what I heard. My executive assistant was there and she liked your talk as well. Anyway, I thought you might be the right person to help me with Noah Washington of the Jets. Are you familiar with the situation?”
“Yeah, I’m a big sports fan and I saw that in the paper. Yet another member of the Jets in the news for the wrong reason. It’s not like he got behind the wheel drunk, but that nightclub incident is still not good for his reputation. Especially since he’d never been in trouble before.”
“Anyway, Noah’s really a good kid but a bit immature. This often happens to rookies when they suddenly become rich and get an entourage. And while what he did qualifies as stupid, he’s remorseful and wants to make things right. I thought you might have some ideas on how we can make that happen. I realize you don’t know me or my client and this is ridiculously short notice but I need someone to be the point person on this today since I’m about to get on a plane. We need to spin this one quick.”
“Can I meet with him right away?”
“Sure. I already told him to expect your call.”
“How did you know I’d take you as a client?”
“I didn’t but I figured you had some free time without the Congressman on your dance card.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re right about that.”
“Actually, the fact that you cut ties with him immediately speaks volumes about you.”
“Thank you. I can’t deal with sleazy clients.”
“We’re on the same page on that.” She went over her rates and he quickly agreed to pay what she requested. They exchanged cell numbers and other pertinent information. “Lexi, can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, especially on such short notice. Hope to meet you sometime when I’m back in town.”
“You too. Thanks, Kyle.” The call ended and she threw up her hands. “Yes!”
Chandler poked his head in the door. “I assume that was good news?”
“Yep, we can pay the rent for another month.”
***
Several hours later Kyle’s phone buzzed with a text as he started to unpack in the California hotel room.
News conference. Two-minute warning. Fox Sports One.
-Lexi
He turned on the hotel room television and tuned to the sports channel. An anchor was doing a voiceover as half of the screen showed an empty podium while the other side was filled with the video of his client’s arrest. The image of the rookie being led away in handcuffs while screaming at police had gone viral and made Kyle cringe. The bottom of the screen read Noah Washington to address media regarding arrest.
He continued unpacking, keeping one eye on the TV. He saw his client head for the podium, sat on the edge of the bed and turned up the sound.
The anchor stopped talking as New York Jets rookie Noah Washington adjusted the microphone up a bit. “Good afternoon, and thank you all for coming. As everyone knows by now, I was at a club late Saturday night when a brawl broke out involving my best friend. I was not involved in the fight. After the police arrived, I attempted to protect my friend by trying to keep the police from getting to him, and in doing so I pushed an officer, who fell to the ground. I was arrested for assault and obstruction of a police investigation. When I saw the video of the arrest I was embarrassed that I acted with such a lack of maturity. This is not how my parents raised me, as I was taught to respect authority. And while I did not mean for the officer to fall or to hurt him, what I did was wrong and there was no excuse for my behavior.”
Kyle’s eyes went wide. “No excuses. I like that. Off to a good start.”
The football player continued. “First, I apologize to the officer involved and the New York City police department. These men and women risk their lives every day to keep us safe, and I didn’t show them the proper respect. For that, I am sorry. And while I can chalk this up to youthful indiscretion or having a few drinks too many, I will not. I am done with clubbing, drinking, and being out after midnight. That said, actions have consequences and I must face those I have brought on myself. First, I am going to save the court some trouble by pleading guilty to both charges. While my court date is not for two months, I am going to do two things that will hopefully show my remorse and prove to our fans and the people of New York that I have learned my lesson. First, I will donate my next game check to the policemen’s benevolent association. But I don’t want you to think I’m just another rich athlete who can write a check to make problems go away. So I am volunteering to do one hundred hours of community service by working on my off days on the NYPD project that’s currently underway building a house for officers who have fallen on hard times. I hope that in some small way this will serve as an acceptable apology and please know I will do my best to be a model citizen going forward. You will never see my name on the police blotter again. Finally, should my head coach decide to suspend or fine me, I would ask the players’ union to not challenge this as I will accept whatever punishment he thinks appropriate.”
The player moved toward an officer and shook his hand while handing him a check, then went back to the podium to take questions.
Kyle’s jaw hung open. “Sonofabitch. That was incredible.” He watched the rest of the news conference as his client politely took every single question, never dodging the issue.
***
Lexi smiled as she read the text.
Terrific job, thank you! Will call this evening.
-Kyle Caruso
She looked up as the football player, conservatively dressed in a gray three-piece suit, calmly took question after question from the media, whose hostility had been drained with the announcement of his self-imposed sentence. Whatever blood had been in the water had been washed out to sea by the man’s contrition. Number eighty-eight was now a human being who was sorry for his behavior. Very sorry.
She felt a hand lightly touch her forearm. “Excuse me, is this your handiwork?”
Lexi turned and found herself staring into the chest of a very tall man. She looked up and immediately recognized him as the veteran quarterback of the Jets, Jake Frost. “I’m his public relations person, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Well, then, thank you for diffusing the situation and turning it into a positive.” He stuck out his hand. “Jake Frost.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And you are?”
“Lexi Harlow.”
“How long have you been working with my teammate?”
“About four hours. I got hired this morning by his agent.”
“Wow. Well, this is a stroke of genius. The poor kid was getting beat to hell on talk radio all weekend and this morning. I know this will turn things around.”
“So what are you doing here?”
“Team captain. And I’ve been trying to mentor the kid. Though obviously I didn’t do a very good job. Maybe you need to travel with the team.”
“You said it yourself, he’s a kid. You couldn’t watch him twenty-four seven.”
“Well, this will make him grow up fast. So, did the agent have you set this up or did you come up with this strategy all by yourself?”
“My idea.”
“I’m impressed. Especially with the actions have consequences thing. The rest of the world needs to learn that, especially parents. Hell, the rest of the NFL needs to learn it.”
“Sounds like we’re on the same page.” She glanced back at the news conference and saw that the questions had finally stopped. “Well, looks like we’re done here. Nice meeting you.”
She started to walk away, but he put his hand lightly on her shoulder. “Listen, I wouldn’t mind getting to know the woman who seems to think like I do. May I have your phone number?”
“You need a PR person?”
“No, I need a dinner date.” He flashed a crooked smile, which made him look like a shy high school boy.
She backed up a step, surprised at his answer. She stared into the deep-set gray eyes of this Greek god and saw a look that was sincere. Though she knew the reputation of athletes, something told her this one might be okay. She couldn’t remember reading anything about the guy breaking the law. Besides, she’d barbecued all of her boyfriend’s clothes and was now a free agent. She smiled at him, reached into her purse, pulled out a business card but didn’t give it to him, holding it near her face. “I don’t usually give my number to perfect strangers.”
He shrugged. “I never said I was perfect. I have an awful lot of flaws. I mean, besides throwing interceptions from time to time. Off the field I’m a total disaster. I really need a woman to fix me.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. His answer lowered her inhibitions and she handed him the card. “Every woman’s dream, to mold a man into perfection. But if you’re a typical bed-hopping athlete you should know that this weekend I torched the clothes of the boyfriend who cheated on me, so you either treat me right or wear a flame-retardant suit.”
His eyes widened. “That was you? The thing with the sitcom guy on the front page of The Post?”
She put one finger to her lips. “Shhhh. Not common knowledge, but I confess to being the arsonist.”
“I’ll consider myself warned.” He put the card in his pocket. “And I will call you. I guess there will be a penalty if I don’t.”
She moved closer and craned her neck as she locked eyes with him. “You’d better believe it, Mister.”
***
Lexi poured herself a glass of wine, stretched out on the couch and put her feet up, then turned on Fox Sports One. She wanted to see a replay of the news conference. Talk radio had done a complete about-face, the callers all impressed that her new client had taken responsibility for his actions and was doing something tangible to apologize. Even a few cops called in to compliment the young man. The local news showed Nate Washington in jeans and a tee-shirt working on the construction of a house alongside a bunch of police officers.
Her strategy had worked perfectly.
And a pro quarterback, possibly the most eligible bachelor in New York and one who was (hard to believe) even better-looking than Dave, had asked for her phone number. Whether he would actually call was beside the point. It felt good to have a man like that interested in her. Greek gods didn’t grow on trees.
Three days ago her world had gone ablaze, literally and figuratively.
Now, in what seemed like an instant, things had turned around. Though possibly getting into bed with a professional athlete, literally and figuratively, was something that demanded she tread with caution. For now, though, the rose-colored glasses provided by possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever met remained in place.
She took a sip of the cold red wine and settled in to watch the replay when her cell rang. She didn’t recognize the number and hit the pause button on the TV. “Hello, this is Lexi.”
“Hi, Lexi, it’s Kyle Caruso. Am I catching you at a bad time?”
“No, not at all. Just watching TV. Your trip go okay?”
“Too early to tell. I’m at San Diego State, hoping to sign their star running back. But right now it takes a back seat to all the goodwill you got for my client today, and that all reflects really well on me as his agent. I can’t thank you enough and tell you how impressed I am with your strategy, especially on such short notice.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you’re pleased. Noah was a pleasure to work with.”
“I told you, he’s a good kid. But you made him look like a saint.”
“That’s why they call me Spin Girl. I can usually spin most situations. Though not cheating politicians.”
He laughed a bit. “Yeah, I can’t imagine anyone could fix that. Anyway, did the Jets treat you okay setting things up? I gave them a heads-up that you were working with me.”
“They were very nice, thank you for calling ahead. The head coach was happy we were being so pro-active and taking control of the situation. So was the quarterback.”
“Oh, I didn’t see Frost at the news conference.”
“He was there, but off camera. He said he’d been mentoring Noah and was glad to see him take responsibility for what he’d done. Seemed like a good guy.”
“Man, I’d love to have him as a client. Talk about deep pockets. By the way, are you a fan?”
“Of who, the Jets?”
“Yeah.”
“Nope, lifelong Giants fan. Got season tickets. But I like to see the Jets do well. A subway Super Bowl would be seriously cool, even though it wouldn’t be in New York.”
“Season tickets, huh? So what’s your take on the team? The Giants, I mean.”
She relaxed a bit, the business part of the conversation apparently over. Her new client was happy, and obviously liked to talk. She gave him her opinion on the Giants, then the conversation segued to football announcers, TV shows, movies, politics, why she got into PR, how he became an agent. The conversation was easy and flowed, like she was talking to an old friend. She picked up her iPad and did a search of his name, hoping to find a photo to see the face behind the voice.
The search turned up nothing but a plain business website with pictures of his clients. No photos of him.
Her phone beeped. “Hang on a minute, Kyle.”
“Sure.”
She looked at her phone expecting to see an incoming call, but instead found a low battery warning. “Hey, my cell is about to die. Guess we’ve been talking awhile.” She looked at the clock and her eyes widened. “Like, an hour and a half. You give good phone.”
He laughed. “Never heard that one before. I enjoyed talking to you too. Anyway, I’m sure I’ll have more work for you in the future if you’re up for more stuff with athletes.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. Would love to sit down with you in person.”
“It will probably be awhile. I travel a lot this time of year and only manage to get home a day at a time. I’m back Friday night and out first thing Sunday morning. But we’ll get together eventually.”
“Look forward to it.” The phone beeped twice, telling her it was about to die. “Okay, my cell is about to flatline, so, bye.”
“Thanks again, Lexi.”
The phone went dead.
She got up, put her phone back on the charger and headed for the kitchen to get some celebratory Häagen Dazs rum raisin with the obligatory extra splash of rum. She couldn’t help but smile. Her agency was off life support for the moment, a Greek god wanted to take her to dinner (well, maybe) and she’d made a new friend out of a client.
All was right in the universe.
At least for now.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e1be2ed9-58d5-5d57-8524-31a64c90ed3d)
Though still bleary-eyed Saturday morning after taking the Friday red-eye from California, Kyle needed to shake off his jet lag at the gym. Shooting hoops for an hour or so and an afternoon nap would hopefully regulate his body clock before his next trip. He stopped at the desk to check out a basketball and heard the rhythmic thump from the court. “Is there actually a game going on at this hour?”
The shaggy clerk, who looked to be about eighteen, shook his head. “Just a young woman, but that’s it. You can each have a half court. I’ll be right back with a ball.”
A young woman?
He walked across the hall, looked through the plexiglass down at the court and saw the little redhead hitting shot after shot.
I’m gonna get my ass kicked again. Then again, maybe this time I can get her number…
He moved back to the desk as the clerk handed him a basketball. He wrote his name on the sign-out sheet, then looked at the clerk as he cocked his head at the court. “By the way, you know her name?”
“Sir, I can’t give out that information.”
“Sure, I understand.”
“But she’s very nice.”
He took a quick look at the sloppy signature above his. It looked like Alexandra followed by a scribble. He headed down the stairs to the basketball court and found her sitting on the bench, dripping with sweat, sipping a bottle of water. She looked up and smiled. “Well, look who’s here. Back for a re-match?”
He pretended to study her face for a moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”
She laughed. “Very funny. It’s Kasey, right?”
“Yeah. And I still don’t know your name.” He noticed a light jacket with monogrammed initials draped over her gym bag and pointed at it. “Ah, but it begins with A.”
She nodded. “Very perceptive, Columbo. You’ve narrowed it down.”
“Wait, don’t tell me… Amy?”
“Nope.”
“Agatha?”
She furrowed her brow and pointed to her face. “Do I look eighty years old to you?”
“Sorry. Actually about fifty-five years younger.”
“Hang on, let me do the math… eighty minus fifty-five… zero minus five, borrow the one… why thank you, kind sir.”
“You’re welcome. But back to your name… you look like you’d have something really classy.”
She pointed at her face. “This sweaty mug looks classy to you?”
“Women don’t sweat, they glow.”
“Yeah, and I’m glowin’ like Secretariat.”
“Anyway, back to your name… Alexandra?”
Her eyes widened. “Damn, you’re good.”
“Really, that’s it?”
She nodded. “Yep. Mom wanted a boy and was going to name him Alex, so Alexandra was the next best thing.”
“So, do friends call you Alex? I hope not because I think Alexandra suits you better.”
“Nope.” She grabbed a towel and wiped her face. “You can totally call me Alexandra if you like.”
“I like.”
“Well, I’m about done here, but if you’re up for a little one-on-one, I’m game.”
“Why, you need to start your weekend beating the hell out of a guy?”
“Thought you might be one of those alpha males who hates losing to a woman and needs to get even.”
“Nah, I’m one of those renaissance men who treats women as equals. Though in your case I will admit you’re better than me at one thing.”
“Just one?”
“So far that’s the only thing we have to go on. I’m willing to bet I’m better at something than you are.”
She sat up straight. “What? Shooting pool? Poker? Let’s rock.”
“Planning a date.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m an expert at planning fantastic dates.”
“So, you’re saying you’re a great date?”
“You might not fall in love with me, but women are always entertained when I take them out. I’m a Jedi date master. I’m sure you couldn’t possibly beat me planning the ultimate fun date.”
She backed up a bit. “You asking me out?”
He shrugged. “Depends.”
“Depends? On what?”
“If you think you’re better than me at planning a date.”
“So what exactly are you proposing?”
“Two dates. We each plan one. Then decide which was the most enjoyable.”
“I must admit, I have not run into this clever tactic before. You’re taking advantage of my competitive nature as a backdoor method of asking me out. Surely you realize that I realize what you’re doing.”
“Of course. But the beauty of this is that if you decline I can simply assume you’re worried about losing the bet, rather than not being interested in me. And my fragile male ego wouldn’t be bruised, since, as you know, men can be devastated for weeks when turned down for a date. But you strike me as a woman who can’t turn down a challenge.”
She locked eyes with him for a moment with those fantastic eyes, sending a shiver through his body. “Okay. But I wanna see how creative you are, so let’s make this interesting. Hundred-dollar limit on the dates. And that includes a nice dinner.”
“A hundred bucks? We’re in New York City. If we do anything besides dinner we’ll be eating at a hot dog cart.”
“Then we’ll find out who’s more creative.” She stuck out her hand. “You agree to the terms?”
He shook. “It’s a bet. Oh, what does the winner get?”
“If I win, you buy me another dinner with no expense limit at the restaurant of my choice.”
“And if I win?”
She shot him a wicked grin and batted her eyes. “You would have already won by having the pleasure of my company for two evenings.”
“Something tells me that will be enough. You’re not a very good gambler since I win either way.”
“Aw, you’re such a sweetie. So, when does this happen?”
“I’m out of town all week, but free next Saturday night. After that I’ll be gone for two more weeks.”
“Okay. Next Saturday.”
“Ladies first?”
“Hell no. I wanna see what I’ve gotta beat. And it will give me two weeks to plan.”
“Fine. I’ll pick you up at six, so I’ll need your number and address.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Not yet, Mister. Meet me outside the gym and you will be dressed nice, not in the Occupy Wall Street collection. If you’re one minute late, I’m gone.”
“You want me to pick you up in front of this place?”
“Yeah. Girl’s gotta be careful these days, you know?”
“Sure, I understand. You don’t really know me. Okay, so if either of us has to cancel for any reason, leave a note at the front desk.”
“Okay, see you in a week.” She got up and grabbed her bag. “Well, I’m outta here. By the way, remember that I have four very large brothers. Treat me badly and one of them will break you in half.”
He stood up. “You’re a spunky little thing, you know that?”
“Part of my charm, as you will soon discover. And watch who you’re calling little, you’re not much taller than me.” She moved closer and looked up at him, then got up on her tiptoes so she actually looked down at him. “And I’ve got lots of four-inch heels.”
He didn’t back up. “Hey, I said I treat women as equals. Bring it.”
***
The dropping temperatures of October had chilled Lexi’s apartment, but she had a fire going, and Dave’s remaining belongings had made wonderful kindling. For the first time in two years she was spending Saturday night alone, but without regret. It was time to regroup and consider the interesting possibilities that had presented themselves in the past week.
New York’s most eligible bachelor had asked for her phone number. Sure, he hadn’t called yet, and probably wouldn’t, but it had still lifted her spirits at a time she needed a boost.
Her agency was off life support thanks to a new client from out of the blue. And one with whom she seemed to have a connection on the phone that went beyond a business relationship. Since they hadn’t met and she couldn’t even find a photo, the physical attraction part was still a mystery.
What the hell, a guy who gave good phone was always nice to have.
She settled in to binge-watch Netflix with a bottle of chilled wine, turned on the TV—
And the phone rang.
She looked at her cell, which read private number then furrowed her brow as she answered the call. “Hello, this is Lexi—”
“Hi, Lexi, Jake Frost. Hope I’m not calling you at a bad time.”
“No, not at all.”
Curious. Guy calling me at seven on a Saturday night. Did his date cancel and is he expecting me to drop what I’m doing to go out with him? I knew athletes were arrogant, but seriously?
“Great. Well, I told you I’d call and I’d like to get together—”
“I’m staying in tonight, Jake.”
He chuckled a bit. “No, not tonight. I’ve got a game tomorrow at one and during the season I don’t go out on weekends. Getting good rest is important and I have a feeling I wouldn’t get much with you around.”
Half compliment, half come-on? “And… why would you say that?”
“Cause you strike me as someone I’d stay up talking with till one in the morning.”
“Oh. I was wondering where you were going with that.”
“Sorry, guess it came out wrong. Like I said, I’m pretty much a mess off the field.”
“I’ll let it slide, but try and watch the double entendres in the future.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And please don’t call me ma’am, I’m not that old!”
“Sorry. Force of habit, since I’m from Texas. We try to be polite to our women folk.”
“I see. So, what did you have in mind?”
“Well, Monday after a game I pretty much resemble an extra from The Walking Dead and since we’re playing the Patriots tomorrow I know I’m gonna get hammered. But I’m usually okay on a Tuesday. I realize that’s not a traditional date night, but it’s the best I can do this time of year. So, I’d love to have dinner with you Tuesday night, if you’re interested and didn’t have any other plans.”
“Sure, Tuesday sounds good. Where do you want to meet?”
“Uh, I was gonna pick you up.”
“Jake, don’t take this the wrong way, but these days I’m being extra careful about giving out my address after my most recent experience with a boyfriend.”
“Oh, right. The guy with hot pants. Sure, Lexi, I understand. Then how about you meet me at Reston’s on fifty-fourth, say around seven?”
“Sure. Hey, I’ll need your number just in case something comes up.”
“Oh, so you can have my number but I can’t have your address?”
“Them’s the rules if you want a date with Spin Girl.”
“That’s what they call you?”
“Damage control is my game, Spin Girl is my name.”
“Cute. Anyway, I will abide by your rules. I can already tell you’re gonna be a handful.”
“I am a redhead, Jake. We’re all a handful.”
He laughed, gave her his phone number and ended the call. She leaned back and sipped wine, wondering if getting involved with a pro athlete was a smart thing to do, but feeling damned attractive knowing that this one was interested in her.
Then she grabbed her tablet and did a search on Jake Frost, finding hundreds of images.
Many of the pro quarterback with a supermodel on his arm.
***
Lexi took a deep breath as she reached for the brass handle of the upscale restaurant door. It was her first date with someone different in two years, and she knew the dangers of starting a possible new relationship on the rebound. But the ego factor of dinner with someone like Jake Frost had the rose-colored glasses firmly in place, despite continued warnings from her trusty assistant.
She entered the dimly lit restaurant at exactly seven o’clock, looking around the lobby and not seeing anyone but the host in a tuxedo at an oak podium. The middle-aged gentleman looked up at her and smiled. “Good evening, Miss. Do you have a reservation?”
“I’m supposedly meeting someone, but I’ll need a table for one and a big bottle of wine if I get stood up.”
He studied her face. “Ah, yes, you’re obviously Mister Frost’s dining companion.”
“How did you know?”
“He told me to keep an eye out for an attractive flame-haired woman with an attitude to match.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, that’s pretty much spot on. Is he here?”
“Yes, he enters through the back door to avoid the paparazzi. We have a nice secluded table for you. Right this way.”
She followed the host through a maze of tables, already filled as the scent of seared beef and the sounds from a piano filled the air. Lexi had only read about this place, with its thousand-dollar dinners and well-heeled clientele, mostly old guys with young trophy wives. As she looked at the patrons her best emerald green dress suddenly felt like something from a close-out store. Luckily no one paid attention to her. The host led her around a corner, where she found Jake Frost in a gray three-piece suit seated at a table. He smiled and stood up, then pulled out her chair. “Right on time.”
“In my business you have to be.”
The host gave a slight nod. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Thanks, Frederick,” said Jake, as he sat opposite her. “You look great, Lexi.”
“Thank you, but I think I’m a little underdressed for this place.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’d look fabulous in a burlap sack.”
“Okay, Mister, you can dial down the compliments. A little, anyway.” He smiled at her, his dazzling look sending an electric charge through her body. “So, you won Sunday.”
“Yeah, had a good game. Didn’t get beat up too bad. You have a good week?”
“Yes, things went well.” She turned her attention to the leather-bound menu with a gold tassel running down the middle. She opened it and read the list of elaborate entrees, none of which had prices next to them. “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“No prices on the menu. I always worry about ordering a hamburger and getting a bill for fifty bucks.”
“Well, they don’t serve burgers here. But I know what you mean. My family didn’t have much growing up and I guess that stays with you forever. It took me a while to stop clipping coupons.”
“You clipped coupons?”
“My rookie year. My financial advisor finally told me to loosen up a bit.”
“I’ve noted you give a lot of it away.”
“Ah, you’ve vetted me.”
“Girl’s gotta know who’s taking her out. But yes, I checked you out and was very impressed at your considerable amount of charitable donations.”
“Lexi, I couldn’t possibly spend all the money I’ve made in a dozen lifetimes. May as well do something good with it.”
“Very noble.”
“And at this point I have no one to leave it to.”
“I see.”
“So obviously since you’re here, I survived your investigation.”
She scrunched up her face a bit and looked at the ceiling. “Well, there was one thing in your dossier that raised a red flag just a bit off the ground.”
His eyes filled with worry. “Red flag? I’ve never been in trouble—”
“Your seeming affinity for tall, slinky blonde supermodels who appear in swimsuit issues wearing very little.”
He blushed a bit. “Those, uh, were youthful indiscretions. Fame and fortune do strange things to guys and when women like that throw themselves at you – well, you can imagine.”
“So you no longer think with the wrong head.”
He shook his head and smiled. “You’re not exactly shy about expressing yourself, are you?”
“As you said, I’m a handful. Anyway, this bikini babe thing is in the past, huh?”
“Well, if your investigation turned up dates along with those photos, you would have noted all those so-called relationships were nearly ten years ago. I’ve grown up and my tastes have changed.”
“Ah, I see. Changed to what?”
“Right now I seem to be into smartass redheads with a brain. But they’re so damn hard to find.”
***
Two and a half hours later they emerged through the back door into the chilly night.
The waiting limo was surrounded with photographers and autograph-seekers.
“Aw, hell,” said Jake.
“I thought no one knew you were here since you came in the back door.”
“Damn Twitter. There’s a hashtag called where is Jake Frost and when I get spotted, a flash mob shows up.” He put his arm around her shoulders and ushered her toward the waiting car. The flashes from the cameras blinded her and she felt herself being pushed into the limo. Jake slid in beside her as the chauffeur closed the door. Her vision cleared and she looked through the windows as the vehicle pulled away. “Damn, you go through that every day?”
“Yeah. Pretty hard to hide when you’re six-five and play for a New York football team. Some days I wish I’d get traded to a place like Kansas City.”
“I’m sure you don’t.”
“Of course not. But I’m always reminded of the old saying about fame. People dream of being famous and then when it happens they go through life with sunglasses on.”
“I wouldn’t know, but it sounds about right.”
“That’s one reason I like to vacation out of the country, where no one watches American football and I can be anonymous.”
She looked out the window. “So where are we going?”
“Up to you. But I need to be asleep by midnight.”
“What, is it a school night?”
“No, we’re in the middle of the season and athletes need proper rest. Besides, we have team meetings and workouts tomorrow at ten.”
“Right, forgot about that. So what did you have in mind?”
“We can ride around the city, go to a club, go to my place and talk, or I can take you home.”
“Well, I get the idea that after the scene we just left you’re not wild about going to a club, but then again, neither am I. I think I’ve outgrown that stuff. And though I have enjoyed our evening so far I’m still not ready to tell you where I live. Hope you’re not offended by that.”
“Not at all. I meant I could have the driver take you home after he drops me off. Wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
She reached over and patted his hand. “I don’t feel uncomfortable at all. I guess we could go to your place for a while and talk. If that’s actually what you have in mind. Talking.”
“Regardless of what I might have in mind, you’ve been in control of things the entire night, wouldn’t you agree?”
She laughed a bit. “Yeah, I guess so.” She leaned forward toward the driver. “Home, James.”
“Yours or his?” asked the driver.
“His, first. But mine later.”
“My pleasure, Miss.”
***
Lexi’s eyes bugged out as the elevator opened into a spectacular penthouse. She stepped out onto the polished white marble floor and took in the amazing panoramic view of Manhattan through floor-to-ceiling windows. “Whoa.”
“Welcome to my humble abode.”
“Let me guess… you’re house-sitting for Donald Trump?”
He laughed. “Nope, it’s mine. Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a glass of champagne?”
“Bring it on.” Even though champagne makes me let my guard down and I’ve already had two glasses at the restaurant.
“Meet you in the living room.”
She stepped down into the sunken living room, amazed at the decor. It sure didn’t look like any bachelor apartment she’d ever seen, as he obviously had a decorator and a maid. She grabbed a seat on one end of the white-leather sectional couch, took off her heels, curled her legs under her and put a pillow on her lap. Jake returned carrying two glasses of champagne, handed one to her, studied her for a moment, then took a seat at the opposite end of the couch. She furrowed her brow. “What are you doing way over there? Am I supposed to yell, or call you on the phone?”
“I thought you’d be more comfortable if I sat here.”
“Why would you think that?”
“My sister is a body language expert. Woman with a pillow in her lap means look but don’t touch. At least that’s what she told me.”
“So, your sister taught you how to read women?”
“Of course not. Your logic is in a foreign language.”
“Very funny. As for said pillow in lap, I was just getting comfortable.”
“Well, I thought in light of the fact that you didn’t give me your address, I didn’t want to scare you away.”
“Men don’t scare me, Jake. I can take care of myself. And if I didn’t want to be here, I would have gone home.” She patted the seat next to her. “C’mon, I won’t bite.”
He smiled, got up and sat next to her, then clinked her glass. “To new relationships.”
“We’re off to a good start.”
“Good to know.”
She looked around the room. “So I was expecting something that looked like a sports bar. Where are all the trophies, awards, autographed jerseys?”
Jake shrugged. “I was never much for that stuff. They’re really just things. Memories are more important. Every award I’ve gotten I’ve auctioned off for charity. The total raised is up to six hundred thousand now.”
“Damn, your stock just went up.”
“Hey, if an inanimate object can help someone in need, why not? And it’s not like I need anything. Other than a woman to fix me.”
***
About two hours later his grandfather clock chime signaled it was the witching hour. Jake turned and looked at the clock. “Damn, it’s twelve already?”
“And we haven’t even gotten to a discussion about favorite TV shows.”
“Well, I hate to kick you out but—”
“I know, you need your beauty sleep during the season. Not a problem.” She put her champagne glass on the glass coffee table, put her heels back on and stood up. The room began to spin a bit. “Whoa.”
He stood up and took her arm. “You okay?”
“Between the drinks at dinner and three glasses of champagne here I’ve got a nice buzz going.”
“Well, thankfully you have two options to get home. I can send you in the limo, which means my driver will know your address, or I can give you the cab fare.”
She studied his face. “I think you’ve proven yourself trustworthy enough to know where I live. Besides, that limo beats the hell out of a cab.”
“Very true.”
“By the way, you didn’t have to order one on my account.”
“Oh, it’s part of my contract. It also insures I’ll never be behind the wheel after having a drink, and I do like a drink or two. Sometimes three.”
“Smart man.”
“By the way, before I was hounded by the paparazzi I would always walk a girl to the door, but you’re already going to be on Page Six tomorrow.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. I spotted the photographer from The Post. Caption will probably read Jake Frost at upscale restaurant with unidentified stunning redhead.”
She tried to hold back a smile but couldn’t. “Stop it, I’m not stunning. Especially considering your previous dinner companions were in the Victoria’s Secret TV fashion show and on the covers of swimsuit issues.”
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope. Need something to hold over your head. And not the one you used to think with.”
“Very funny.” He walked her to the elevator, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so she was facing him. “Lexi, I really enjoyed tonight.”
“Me too.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever been out on a date and just talked to a woman for five hours.”
“So when you were out with a garden-variety supermodel you talked for two minutes and then—”
“Sorry, that didn’t come out right. Just another example of me being a total mess off the field. I meant I really enjoyed talking with a woman as smart and funny as you.”
“Ah, so you’re only interested in my mind.”
“Oh, I’m definitely interested in the rest of you too, but your mind is certainly intriguing. So, can I see you again?”
She tapped her chin with one finger and looked to the side. “Hmmm… I think you’ve behaved well enough to merit a second date.”
“Have I behaved well enough to merit a goodnight kiss?”
She moved closer to him. Lexi craned her neck to look up at the man who towered over her. “Sure, if you’ve got a stepladder handy.”
“When you’re six-five, you don’t need one. But I can fix the problem.” He reached down, placed his hands on her sides and effortlessly lifted her up so that she was at eye level with him. She took his head in her hands and gave him a soft kiss. Their lips parted and she locked eyes with him, getting a look that went right into her soul. The kiss from an incredibly attractive man, along with too much champagne and a subconscious desire to get even with Dave, all dropped her inhibitions down to near zero. She slid her arms around his neck and their lips met again as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands slid under her hips, supporting her as she kissed him with a hunger she’d never known with anyone else.
Ten minutes later she stopped, rested her head on his shoulder as she ran her hands across his back, savoring the feel of the massive, rock-hard muscles under his shirt. “Damn.”
“Yeah. So much for the look but don’t touch body language.”
I was referring to the fact that your muscles have muscles, but whatever. She leaned back and smiled at him. “I told you I was just getting comfortable.”
“You comfortable now?”
“Very. But you need your sleep and I’ve gotta work tomorrow too.”
“And if you stay here any longer I’m not going to get any sleep at all.” She tried not to blush but her freckles caught fire. He set her back down and pressed the button on the elevator. “Next Tuesday, then?”
“To be continued.” The elevator door opened and she backed into it, not breaking eye contact.
And as soon as the door closed, she knew she’d gone too far.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_b29818c1-a898-5673-a77b-9ded64ca868d)
“Well, if it isn’t the unidentified stunning redhead.”
Lexi studied Chandler’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He handed her the day’s edition of the New York Post, open to the gossip section known as Page Six. Her eyes went wide as she saw the photo of herself with Jake Frost getting into the limo. “Holy shit!” Then a smile slowly grew. “Hmmm…. they actually called me stunning.”
“My sentiments exactly.”
“The holy shit part or the fact that you’re surprised they called me stunning?”
“I’m not at all surprised at your description in the publication, as you have, since the day I met you, consistently underestimated your appeal to those of the male persuasion. As for the expletive involving excrement, since when are you being escorted about town by a professional athlete? Were you unable to log on to Ashley Madison’s website?”
“Oh, stop it. I don’t need to visit an affair website. I met him at the Jets’ news conference the other day. He asked me out and seemed like a good guy.” She pulled off her sunglasses. “Damn, it’s bright in here.”
Chandler moved closer to get a good look at her bloodshot eyes. “Ah, revenge of the grape.”
“Don’t remind me. But do remind me not to drink champagne on a weeknight when I have to go to work the next day. I feel like someone’s hitting a Chinese gong in my head. I think I’ll just work on those press releases all day.”
“Perhaps not. Mister Caruso called again with yet another emergency request for your help with one of his clients.”
“When did he call?”
“Five minutes ago.” He handed her a message slip.
“Okay, let me see what he needs. This could be a very lucrative client. And he seems like a really good guy.”
“You met him?”
“No, we talked on the phone forever the other night. Really had a connection.”
“Speaking of connections, what’s the story with the aforementioned professional athlete?”
“Yeah, we had a connection as well, but I’m regretting it this morning.”
“Since you’re wearing a different outfit than yesterday, I assumed you were not doing the proverbial walk of shame.”
“Hey, what kind of a girl do you think I am? No, I meant that since I’m on the rebound I should be taking things slow and they got a bit out of hand last night. But not that far out of hand. Champagne on a first date is a bad idea for me. Anyway, let me get back to Kyle and see what he’s got for me.”
“Meanwhile, I’ll work up a dossier on the weekend gladiator.”
“He’s a football player, not a guy fighting lions in the Coliseum.”
“Similar occupation, different era. Regardless, I wish you to know who you might be getting into bed with. Literally and/or figuratively.”
“You don’t have to do that—”
“I should have done it with your last paramour.”
“Point taken, Chandler. Knock yourself out. Dig up as much dirt as you can find. Hopefully you won’t discover anything, but better safe than sorry.”
She headed into her office, pulled her cell from her purse and dialed Kyle’s number. He picked up on the first ring. “Lexi, thanks for calling back so quick.”
“Not a problem, Kyle, what do you need?”
“One more athlete who needs an attitude adjustment. But at least this one’s not in trouble with the police.” Lexi took notes as he went over the situation. “Anyway, as usual I’m stuck out of town and was hoping you could knock some sense into the kid.”
“Sure, happy to do it.”
“Great. He can be at my office later this morning if your schedule permits you to meet him there. Oh, and I’ve told my executive assistant, Donna, to cut you a check for last week and today.”
“Kyle, you’re my kind of client.”
“Hey, you dropped what you were doing for me at the last minute, so the least I can do is pay you quick.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it. So give me the address for your office.” Her eyes went wide as he told her. “Are you kidding me?”
“Why would I kid about my address?”
“You’re not gonna believe this, but we’re in the same building!”
“Are you kidding me?”
“That’s my line. Anyway, you’re one floor up from me.”
“Damn, small world. We both share office space in the same dump.”
“No argument here,” she said with a sigh.
“The rent’s cheap and since I just went out on my own, I have to keep expenses down,” he explained.
“Same story here, so I know where you’re coming from.”
“Well, I guess I won’t have to reimburse you for a cab fare.”
She laughed. “Yeah. Anyway, I’ll wander upstairs in a couple of hours and make your problem go away.”
“Thanks, Lexi, I cannot thank you enough. One of these days I’ll do it in person.”
***
Lexi took the stairs, since Kyle’s office was only one flight up. Besides, the elevator in the old building was always an adventure, and the standing joke was that if the hamster fell off the treadmill that powered the ancient thing you’d get stuck.
She found the door marked “Caruso Agency”, which turned out to be right over her own office. She entered the office and found a sharp-looking thirty-something brunette manning the reception desk. The woman looked up and smiled as she stood up and extended her hand. “I’ll bet you’re Lexi. I’m Donna, Kyle’s executive assistant.”
Lexi shook her hand. “So nice to meet you, Donna.” Though she hadn’t met Kyle, he certainly had good taste in assistants. The woman was petite, maybe five-two, with huge brown eyes, high cheekbones and long, wavy mahogany hair down to the middle of her back. Very exotic. Very Italian. “So, where’s the guy I’m here to fix?”
“Every woman’s dream, huh? And you get paid to do it. Right this way.” Donna led her into a small meeting room occupied by a large blonde man, who was busy staring at his cell phone. “This is Franklin Jessup. Franklin, this is Lexi Harlow, the woman Kyle sent over for you.”
The guy looked up from his phone and stood up, towering over both women, and built like a Coke machine. “Nice to meet you.”
Lexi looked up at the hulk. “You might not think so when we’re done.”
“Can I get you anything to drink?” asked Donna.
Lexi sat at the small round table. “Big glass of water, thanks.” She gestured to the chair opposite her. “Have a seat, Franklin. So, you’re in trouble for your tweets and Facebook posts.”
The guy exhaled as he sat down with a hangdog look. “Yeah. I’ve been getting into arguments with fans and I guess some people took my last tweet the wrong way and got offended. I was just joking around. Coach fined me and then called Mister Caruso. Mister Caruso told me I should do exactly what you tell me to do.”
“Why don’t you just stay off the Internet?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I’m addicted, like most young people. Fans start saying hurtful things about me and I have to fight back.”
“Actually, you don’t. Do you go into the stands and fight the fans when they boo you on the field?”
“Of course not.”
“Then you shouldn’t do it online. It’s nothing more than digital road rage, like flipping the bird at someone from your car.” Donna returned and slid the glass of water next to Lexi, then leaned against the wall to listen. “Are all your accounts logged in with apps?” She pointed at his phone.
“Yeah. Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat.”
Lexi reached across the table and grabbed the phone. “Franklin, you need a cleanse to fix your problem.”
“What, like drinking juice all day?”
“Nope. Social media cleanse.” She tapped his phone a few times. “Okay, that takes care of Twitter.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just deleted your account.”
His eyes went wide. “Why would you do that? I had thousands of followers!”
“So you won’t get in any more trouble. By the way, you’ve got seventy thousand real followers in the stadium stands and millions more on TV every Sunday.” She tapped the phone a little more. “Okay, hasta la vista Facebook.”
“No!”
A few more taps. “And it’s sayonara to Instagram. Say bye-bye to Snapchat.”
The player bit his lower lip as Lexi continued to tap on his phone. Then she turned it over, opened it, and pulled out the SIM card. “What are you doing now?”
“First, you owe me fifty bucks.”
“For what?”
She reached in her purse and pulled out a simple flip phone. “Your new phone.” She opened the back and slid the SIM card inside, then closed it and slid it over to Franklin.
He opened it and shook his head. “No way. This is one of those phones for old people with the big numbers. All it does is make calls.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” She took his smartphone, held it over the glass of water and dropped it in.
“What the hell did you do that for?”
“So you can’t get in trouble. You wanna talk to someone, or someone wants to talk to you, you now have this wonderful thing called a telephone call. No more social media, no more texting. You are cleansed and off the grid. And therefore… wait for it…”
“I can’t get in trouble.”
“Very good. So what’s more important, Franklin… your cell phone and playing on the Internet or your career and keeping your coach and fans happy?”
He slowly nodded. “My career.”
“Good.”
“You do realize I could simply go out and buy another phone.”
“You do realize that if you do I’ll kick your ass.”
He was speechless.
“Now get your butt back to practice and knock the hell out of the Falcons this weekend.”
Franklin got up and shook her hand. “Thank you, Miss Harlow.”
“You can thank me by staying off the Internet and out of trouble.” He nodded and left the office.
Donna patted Lexi on the back, then sat down next to her. “Oh my God, the look on his face when you dropped his phone in the water! You, young lady, are worth your weight in gold.”
“Thank you. Just a matter of tough love.”
“Well, it worked. Hey, you wanna go to lunch?”
***
Lexi hadn’t realized how much she needed simple girl talk. Chandler was an okay sounding board, but too much like her dad and very protective of her when it came to matters of the heart. And most of her friends were male. But she immediately sensed a kindred spirit in Donna, who seemed to be as spunky and snarky as she was.
Donna picked at her grilled-chicken salad. “So, I don’t see a ring on your finger. What’s the story here?”
“Just got out of a two-year relationship.”
“Ah, rebound city. So, taking time off from the dating pool?”
“Ya know, when I was younger I might have, but I’ve decided to simply bury the past right away and play the field for a while. Dating one guy didn’t work out… I mean, I put all my eggs in one basket and ended up with an omelet on my face.”
“Interesting visual. So, you already back on the horse? Or still looking at the racing form?”
“Got a couple of new guys on my dance card who I just met. But I simply need to have a bit of fun without anything serious.”
“I hear ya. Think you might have room for a third on that dance card? You’re perfect for my brother.”
Her face tightened a bit. “No offense, but I’m not big on fix-ups, Donna.”
“Well, I’m obviously biased, but he’s a catch and I think you two would be a great match. He loves spunky girls and he’s got this thing for redheads. Oh my gawd, he would luv ya. He’s around your age, just turned thirty. Cute as hell. Got that boy- next-door thing going. And a real sweetheart. He’s my younger brother but he’s very protective of me as if he was the older one. We’re really close.”
“That’s nice. So why hasn’t this great catch been caught yet?”
“Well, he’s never had any problems getting dates because he’s so much fun, but when it comes to getting serious… I dunno, I don’t think girls see him as what they envisioned in a husband.”
“Why, what’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing. But he’s got several factors working against him. He’s, well… he’s a little guy. I don’t mean as short as me, but he’s only five-seven and slender. Not the traditional big macho guy many women want. He also doesn’t have a lot of money. He just opened his new business a year ago and finances are tight. In fact, the only way he could go out on his own was by ditching his apartment and moving in with me. So I’m searching for a girl who can look past a short guy with no money who lives with his sister and realizes good things come in small packages.”
“I don’t have any problem dating short guys. In fact, one of the guys I’m seeing this weekend isn’t much taller than me.”
“See, I knew you were open-minded. Anyway, if those two guys on that dance card of yours don’t work out, let me know. Seriously, you’re perfect for him.”
“So how did you feel about him moving in with you?”
“It was my idea. He needed the twenty-five hundred he was blowing on an apartment each month to rent an office, and I had a house all to myself. Pretty much thanks to him.”
“Not sure I follow.”
Donna grabbed her drink and leaned back. “Well, I got married when I was twenty-two to a handsome rich guy and it wasn’t working out. I caught him cheating and the sonofabitch hits me like it’s my fault. So I left the house and went over to my brother’s apartment. When he saw the black eye he was livid, went to my house and kicked the living crap out of my ex-husband, who was twice his size. My brother had been bullied a lot in school so he got a black belt in karate. Anyway, a few weeks later we show up with our lawyers for the first divorce meeting, my brother cracks his knuckles, shoots my ex the death stare and he immediately caves. Gives me the house and most of the cash. So I owe my little brother big time.”
“Okay, I haven’t even met him but his stock just went up.”
“Listen, Lexi, I married a wealthy guy who was incredibly handsome, but I was young and stupid and had stars in my eyes. I’d gladly trade the house and money to have not gone through that. So take it from me, when you do settle on a guy, make sure it’s for love. At the end of the day, looks and wealth don’t mean a damn thing.”

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_01bbe853-1b79-5306-b6df-7996d1d43bcc)
Kyle was determined to make a good impression on the little redhead, as he was decked out in a dark blue windowpane three-piece suit. A haircut this morning, an old-fashioned shoe shine from a sidewalk guy. His red silk tie had a perfect dimple in the knot after three tries, and a matching pocket square. He looked at his watch as he leaned against his car. Ten till six.
He’d actually been there since five-thirty, having left extra time in case there was traffic. This was one date he didn’t want to miss, and he sensed she wasn’t kidding when she said she’d be gone if he was late.
Still, as he waited for his date, his mind wandered to the girl on the phone. Lexi Harlow was an amazing conversationalist, incredibly in tune with him, even though they’d never met. And with his crazy travel schedule he wondered when that would be possible.
The sight of the little redhead walking toward him knocked him back to reality.
The sweaty girl in a tee-shirt and shorts with her hair up didn’t remotely resemble the vision heading in his direction. Red tangles dusting the shoulders of her knee-length turquoise dress, her hair bouncing from the energy in her walk. Spectacular eyes done up like an Egyptian princess.
And a pair of platform heels that had to be at least five inches high. He wouldn’t be calling her Little Red.
The woman wasn’t kidding about wanting to be the dominant one in the relationship. He stood up to greet her, stretching as much as possible to his full height. Don’t say a word about her being taller.
She smiled as she moved toward him. “You’re off to a good start. I like a guy who’s on time. I really like a guy who’s early.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m here to pick up a sweaty girl from the gym.”
“Very funny. Though I thought I was glowing, not sweaty.”
“Sorry. But right now you look terrific. As my friend from the South would say, you clean up good.”
“Thank you.” She ran one finger under the lapel of his suit jacket. “And you look much better in a suit. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks. Oh, one more rule for tonight, along with the hundred-dollar limit. No shop talk. We’re not allowed to talk about work.”
“Why not?”
“Because if we do that we won’t really get to know each other. People are very different away from the office.”
She nodded. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Okay, we won’t even say what we do for a living.”
He opened the car door and gestured inside. “Right, off we go.”
She got in and looked up at him. “So where are we going?”
“A wedding.”
“Huh?”
“Trust me. It’s not just any wedding.”
“So who’s getting married?”
“Actually, no one.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“All will become clear shortly, young lady.”
Lexi smiled as she saw the marquee above the dinner theater. Angelo and Antoinette’s Wedding. “Oh, I read about this. I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Me too. Dinner theater that’s an Italian wedding beats the hell out of some depressing Ibsen play on Broadway.”
“No kidding.” They crossed the street and headed toward the box office. Lexi noted the price on the little sign in the window. “Hey, it’s fifty-nine bucks each. Do the math. You’re already over the limit. Gotta stay under a hundred bucks, remember?”
He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and held it up. “Not a problem. Two-for-one coupon.”
She nodded. “Ah. Pretty slick.”
“I’ve got one of those books with all sorts of two-fers in New York. Really pays for itself in no time.”
“I admire a man who knows how to save a buck. Since I have to do it every day.”
“I admire a woman who doesn’t get pissed off that I use coupons.” He paid for the tickets and led her inside, looking at the slip of paper the ticket seller had given him. “Hey, assigned seats.”
“Yeah, I read they do that because they have actors at each table who are part of the show.”
They found their table already occupied by a couple, who looked right out of Mafia central casting. A burly guy with slick black hair, wearing a black pinstripe suit with a white tie, and a woman with raven hair teased out to eighties standards wearing a ridiculous amount of cheap jewelry while smacking a wad of gum. The guy stood up and greeted them with a wicked Noo Yawk accent. “How youse guys doin’? I’m Carmine and dis is my ball and chain, Carmella.”
The woman glared at him. “Real nice first impression, Carmine.” She turned to them. “Youse friends of da bride or groom?”
“Uh, both,” said Lexi. “We’re Kasey and Alexandra.”
“Nice to meetcha,” said Carmine as he sat down. “Still don’t believe these two are gettin’ married. Madonne, tawk about a couple with nuthin’ in common.”
Carmella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, like we’re a match made in heaven.” She turned to Lexi. “We’re like Bill and Hillary without the money or the politics.”
Lexi sat down next to her date and lightly took his arm. “This is gonna be a hoot.”
“No kidding.”
The lights dimmed and a spotlight shone on the door as the bandleader on stage moved to the microphone. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome for the very first time… Mister and Mrs. Angelo Goombatz!”
Lexi patted her belly after her last bite of chocolate wedding cake. The food was actually excellent, unlike many dinner theater meals. She leaned back and watched the newlyweds finish their first dance together with a hilarious argument on the dance floor.
“Didn’t take long,” said Carmine.
His “wife” slapped the back of his head, mussing up his hair. “Ah, shaddup, Carmine. At least let them get to the honeymoon.”
“Yeah, it’ll be the undercard on the next pay-per-view heavyweight fight.”
The song finished and the lead singer watched the newlyweds storm off the dance floor toward the kitchen, continuing their argument along the way. “Uh-oh, I think we need some damage control here. Why don’t the rest of you dance while we put away all the breakables?” The sound of plates breaking filled the room. “Too late. Anyway, please enjoy the music. Ladies, please drag your dates to the dance floor since you know damn well they’re not going to make the first move. Let’s go back to the seventies with some classic disco!”
Carmella got up, grabbed Carmine by the ear and yanked him out of his seat. “Let’s go, Fred Astaire.”
Lexi laughed, then held out her hand toward her date. “This girl wants to dance. I mean, if you know how.”
He stood up and took her hand. “I can do a box step.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh geez.”
“Personally, I’m just hoping you’ll let me lead.”
“Very funny.”
He led her to the dance floor and staked out an open space as the band played a Bee Gees’ tune. He took her hands. “Relax your arms.”
“Huh?”
“Let your arms go limp.”
“Okay.” She relaxed and within seconds he was whisking her around the floor like someone from Dancing with the Stars. The guy was incredible, even managing to twirl her despite the five-inch platforms that made him get on his toes and stretch. The other people on the floor backed up to give them more room and they suddenly found themselves bathed in a spotlight. He expertly led her through a series of slick moves, then dipped her as the song ended. The crowd cheered and applauded as he helped her up.
She was out of breath but amazed. “Sonofabitch! How the hell did you learn to dance like that?”
“My older sister. Prom queen who insisted on practicing every day after school before the big night.”
Lexi nodded. “Well, I’m impressed. Box step, ha!”
The music started again, this time a slow dance. He gave her a look that seemed to be asking permission. “Care to go again?”
She smiled. “Absolutely. I wanna see what else you’ve got in your repertoire.”
“Then we’ll be dancing all night.”
“Fine with me.” He moved closer, taking one hand while placing his other lightly on her waist. He locked eyes with her and she felt a shiver as he began to lead her in a waltz.
An hour later the singer asked for all the single women to come to the dance floor as the bride was about to throw the bouquet.
Lexi didn’t move.
Carmella looked at her hand. “Youse two aint married?”
Lexi shook her head. “First date.”
“Well, youse look like a couple. Anyway, you’re single, so getcha ass out there.”
Her date patted her on the hand. “Go ahead, be part of the show.”
She got up and headed to the dance floor, finding herself and a few other guests surrounded by all the “bridesmaids”, who were busy shoving one another to get in position. The bride stood on the stage and turned her back to the group, as the singer started the countdown. “One, two, three!” The bridesmaids practically tackled one another as the bouquet flew on a line right into Lexi’s arms. One of the bridesmaids got up and glared at her. “Look at that hair! She ain’t even Italian!”
Lexi headed back to the table, laughing hysterically as she carried the bouquet.
“Nice catch,” said her date.
She saw the groom take his place on the stage. “Hey, fair’s fair, you gotta get out there and try for the garter.”
“Well, okay.” He got up and headed to the dance floor, was surrounded by the groomsmen and caught the garter with a leaping grab.
“Okay,” said the singer. “Now this lucky guy gets to put the garter on the young lady who caught the bouquet. And I believe they’re already together.” Someone placed a chair in the middle of the dance floor and Carmella shoved Lexi out of her seat. She walked to the chair and sat while Kasey got down on one knee holding the garter.
Then the band played the old classic, The Stripper.
She widened her eyes at him as he slid the garter over her ankle, never breaking eye contact with her.
Okay, how far is he going with this?
She saw him blush while beads of sweat blossomed on his forehead. He gently slipped the garter up her calf and just over her knee, then stopped, got up, and extended his hand.
Hmmm. Gentleman.
“Last dance everyone, thank you all for coming on this very special day.”
Just as the lead singer finished the announcement, the bride chased the groom across the dance floor, screaming all the way. “I saw you checkin’ out the rack on my maid of honor! You shoulda married her!”
The crowd laughed as Lexi finished her glass of wine just as her date extended his hand. “One for the road?”
“Sure.”
She followed him to the already-crowded dance floor as the band played a romantic oldie she recognized. He reached for her hands but she moved forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He leaned back and smiled, looking up at her as he slid his arms around her waist, locking his fingers on the small of her back.
“This is that song from Ghost, right? The one when Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore are doing pottery.”
He nodded. “Yep.”
“What’s it called?”
“Unchained Melody.”
“That’s an odd name for a song.”
“That’s because it’s from the movie Unchained.”
“How the hell did you know that?”
“I read a lot. And I never miss Jeopardy.”
The wine and the music relaxed her. She pulled him a little closer, breathed in his earthy cologne as they swayed to the music. She rested her head on his shoulder.
Wearing ridiculous heels did have its benefits.
They stepped out into the cool night air. “I have to admit, that was a great experience,” said Lexi. “I am willing to concede you’re very good at planning a date.”
“Oh, we’re not done yet. It’s only nine and I’ve got forty-one dollars left.”
“There’s more?”
“It’s not even close to being over. One more stop. Right around the corner.”
“If it’s that cheesecake place I’m stuffed and couldn’t eat another bite.”
“It’s a restaurant, but we’re not going to eat anything.”
“I don’t understand. If we’re not—”
“Patience, young lady. We’ll be there shortly.”
They turned the corner and she saw bright lights coming from inside the restaurant, so bright they lit up the sidewalk. “What’s going on in there?”
He opened the door and ushered her inside. “Movie set. My buddy is an assistant director and he needed some well-dressed extras. You’re about to be in a major motion picture.”
She saw a tall man moving toward them she recognized as Jimbo from the basketball game. “Hey, buddy, I appreciate you coming by.” He turned to her. “This can’t be Little Red.”
“It’s me. My workout clothes are in the wash, so I threw on this old outfit.”
“Well, you sure clean up good.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Second time I’ve heard that tonight. Thank you.”
“You guys look perfect for this scene. Follow me.” He led them over to a desk filled with a bunch of papers manned by a young woman. “If you’ll each fill out one of these and then I’ll get you situated.”
“What’s this for?” asked Lexi.
“Union rules for extras.”
“Okay.”
They filled out the forms, then followed Jimbo over to an empty table. The restaurant was filled with well-dressed couples while one table stood empty in the middle of the room. A woman with a light meter wandered around checking things. Jimbo gave a loud whistle. “Okay, everyone, listen up. In this scene our stars will be seated at this table. While they’re talking I want you all focused on one another. Don’t look at the actors or the camera. Remember, don’t actually talk, just pretend by mouthing words. As soon as the actor gets down on one knee to propose, I want you all to turn and watch. It would be nice if all the women got a dreamy-eyed look. Then when the actress accepts and he puts the ring on her finger, I want everyone to cheer and applaud. Got it?”
Lexi turned back to her date. “So who’s in this movie? Anyone famous?”
He pointed at the stunning couple heading toward the empty table. “You might recognize them.”
She turned and spotted two of Hollywood’s biggest stars. “Brad Fenwick and Jennie Dale? You gotta be kidding me!”
“We’re about to be in a blockbuster rom-com.”
She watched as the world-famous actors took their places and a man with a movie slate placed it between them and the camera. “Proposal of a Lifetime, scene thirty, take one.”
The director moved behind the camera. “Okay, extras, eyes off the stars and on each other. Nice, looking good. And… action!”
Lexi started mouthing words as Kasey did the same. Not actually speaking forced more eye contact than normal.
And she felt it again. A shiver of … something.
A few seconds later she caught movement in her peripheral vision and saw the star get down on one knee. All the extras turned to watch the proposal, then applauded as the woman accepted.
“And cut! That was terrific. Let’s do a few more takes.”
Jimbo thanked them as the production team wrapped for the night. “I appreciate you coming by. It’s not easy to get people to commit late on a Saturday night, even with the chance to be in a movie.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Lexi. “That was a really unique experience. And I guess we’ll be memorialized on film.”
“Yeah, this is one scene that absolutely won’t get cut and you two were both in the shot. Well, I gotta go and lock things up. You can pick up your pay at the check-in table.”
“We get paid?”
“Of course, this is a major production.” Jimbo disappeared as her date led her toward the table where a woman was handing out cash to the extras.
Lexi’s eyes went wide as the woman handed her a crisp hundred-dollar bill and did the same to her date. She turned to him. “So, we’re actually making a profit on this evening?”
He shrugged. “Hey, what can I say? It pays to date me.”
“You’re amazing. This has really been an incredible evening.”
“Oh, the date’s not over yet. One more stop.”
“You said that last time.”
“Maybe there’s more than one, maybe not. But there’s at least one.”
The full moon seemed to set her hair on fire as the boat moved through the water. They leaned against the rail and looked at the spectacular view of Manhattan. Kyle thought she looked like a little girl, wide-eyed with all the freckles. “So, you’ve never been on the Staten Island Ferry?”
“Nope. Never had any reason to go to Staten Island. This has to be the best free thing to do in New York. I mean, look at the view.”
“I grew up on the island and our house didn’t have air conditioning. So on really hot days we’d take the ferry to cool off.” He noticed her hunch up her shoulders a bit. “Speaking of cooling off, are you cold?”
“Just a little chilly, I’ll be fine.”
He took off his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “Better?”
“Now you’ll be cold.”
“I’m wearing a vest, I’m very comfortable.”
“Well, thanks. Very chivalrous of you.”
“My sister trained me well.”
“Speaking of being comfortable, I wanted to ask you something. Are you shy around women?”
“Not really. Why?”
“You were very much a gentleman putting that garter on my leg. But you were blushing.”
He smiled and looked to the side for a moment. “Well, I barely know you and you don’t run your hands up a girl’s thigh on the first date.”
“Obviously you were raised right.”
“You can thank my older sister again. She’d smack the hell out of me if I treated a woman badly.”
“Sounds like I need to meet this sister of yours. By the way, what were you talking about during our movie scene? I couldn’t read your lips.”
“Ah, nuclear physics. And you?”
“Brain surgery. But that’s a discussion for another day. She patted his hand. “Now I can’t wait for the movie. Fifty years from now I can watch it and see myself. And you.”
He looked at his watch as the ferry pulled into the Manhattan dock. “Listen, I get that you’re being careful with someone you just met, but I’m not going to drop you off in front of the gym at this hour. It’s not safe.”
She smiled as she looked at him. “I think you’ve proven yourself enough to see where I live.”
Lexi stared at the moon through the windshield as he found a space about a block from her building. He opened the door for her and she stepped out onto the sidewalk, still fairly busy at this hour. They started walking toward her apartment, passing a sidewalk fruit and flower stand, which was still doing business.

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