For all I knew, Jolene planned to fire my ass on the spot. We never had a conversation about sleeping with our most expensive, temperamental, and important client, but something told me it wasn’t acceptable behavior. I wasn’t dating Jack Carson. Hell, it took me a year to even consider seeing another man after I left Wyatt. I didn’t have enough coffee to deal with this disaster.
But this was one hell of a PR masterpiece, something I never would have thought to do. Tame Jack Carson with rumors of a real, committed relationship? Let him look dependable and controlled?
If only his chosen girlfriend wasn’t me.
The only relationship I wanted with Jack was strictly professional—preferably separated by multiple layers of clothing, a couple miles of distance, and a bad cell connection.
Jolene waited at her door. I took the seat opposite her desk. Her heels clicked as she paced the room.
I earned forty grand a year, but I had the possibility for six figures once I made partner. I was promised a company car. Fancy parties. Jet-setting around the world. This job was everything I ever wanted.
And now it was ruined because of a wild, bad boy quarterback who wasn’t satisfied tormenting me in the office. He wanted me to go down with him.
Or go down on him.
Absolutely not.
Jack Carson was trouble, bundled in the body of a Greek god with a flashy smile and bandit blue eyes. Anytime he gave me butterflies, I got out the wasp spray.
“Leah…” Jolene took her chair with a sigh. “I had no idea you and Jack were a…couple.”
Yep, it was a big surprise to me too. The truth settled like a thick lump in my stomach, pitted next to my courage which hid under what remained of my pride. I needed to fess up. I wasn’t dating Jack. I wasn’t anything with Jack.
But I froze.
God...if Jolene knew we lied to the league?
PR wasn’t about lying, it was spin. I highlighted the positive aspects of Jack’s life, all the facts the public found more tolerable than his harem of woman, collection of speeding tickets, and out-of-court settlements for fist-fights.
If she knew I lied, I’d be out of her company quicker than Jack could run the forty, that was for sure.
Jolene stared at me, slouching despite her jacket’s shoulder pads. “Leah, I can’t see you and Jack Carson as a…I mean, he’s got such a reputation. And you…”
I bit my lip. “What about me?”
“After Wyatt broke your heart, you didn’t let anyone else get close…” Jolene watched as I awkwardly shifted. She apologized. “Not my place, I know. But Leah, I took you under my wing. You are the next me. I see these things.”
“This has nothing to do with Wyatt.”
“It’s just, after what he did, I couldn’t imagine you dating a man like Jack, someone who seems…”
Lord. “It…it certainly wasn’t planned.”
“Of course. Right. Working with someone this closely was bound to create a spark.”
Oh, Jack was fanning some flames now—hellfire, mostly. “Jack always was a special case.”
“That’s the truth.” Jolene stirred her coffee—brewed extra strong for the times when the crises hit harder than linebackers. “I guess we should have a talk about interoffice conduct and relations with clients.”
“Really, I don’t think that’s necessary—”
“I’ve never specifically prohibited these types of relationships.”
“Jolene, I swear. You won’t notice a difference in my quality of work. Nothing has changed about my commitment to our clients, including Jack.” I hesitated. “I doubt you even noticed anything was unusual.”
“You’re right. I didn’t know you two were dating.” Jolene laughed. “You’ve always been the epitome of professional, Leah. But, when I hired you as my assistant, I did it because you could handle the responsibilities and sensitive nature of our work. We are to remain invisible. We aren’t the story; our clients are the ones in the spotlight.”
Jack wasn’t going to make it out of the huddle at practice. Didn’t matter how many linemen protected him, I’d kick his butt from one side of the field to the other.
“I completely understand, Jolene. And I can swear to you—”
“I know, I know. You wouldn’t let this…fling interfere with your work.”
“Oh, I can absolutely guarantee it.”
Jolene nodded. She sipped her coffee, grimaced, and choked it down. She offered me a cup from the pot behind her. I smelled the bitterness from across the desk, and that much caffeine would only encourage me to bean Jack off the goal posts.
Her voice turned heavy. “This is hard to say.”
I braced myself for the words I had never heard in my life.
You’re fired. We’ll have to let you go. Get the hell out of my office.
Two humiliations in one day?
I’d never find a job as good as this one. I’d be forced to move. I’d have to sell my new car. Wasn’t it bad enough my plan for a family and marriage was ruined when I walked in on Wyatt humping his way into bachelorhood? I couldn’t lose the one job that promised every success I ever dreamed.
Marriage. Kids. Travel. Fantastic job.
This opportunity slipped through my fingers, even more tragic since it was all I had left in my life.
I hid my trembling hands. “Jolene, I promise—”
“Before you go back to work, I just have to say that Jack Carson isn’t the right man for you.”
I stared at her, wide-eyed. “You aren’t firing me?”
Jolene frowned. “I’m not worried about your job performance.”
“You’re not?”
“I’m worried about you.” She sipped the coffee before dumping three packets of sugar into the mug. “You know Jack’s reputation better than anyone. I know he must be fun, but he’s never going to give you what you need.”
“I—”
“You aren’t looking for a fling. Don’t let Wyatt’s behavior scare you away from a real relationship.”
“It’s not that—”
“Do you still want to find the right man? Settle down? Leah, you couldn’t wait to have kids.”
I pretended the folder full of information from the local fertility clinic wasn’t sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk. I wanted a family more than anything. Hell, I wanted it more than the marriage with Wyatt. It was unconventional, but I wondered what Jolene would protest more—an apparent relationship with the renowned manwhore Jack Carson…or the information on sperm donors I had meticulously catalogued in a hidden folder.
Both ideas were sounding crazy to me at the moment.
“Jack will not give you that life.” Jolene held her hand up. “This is me talking as a friend. He’s only going to run around on you. Do yourself a favor and stop before you get hurt. You’re a smart, lovely girl. Don’t let him break you.”
“Jack Carson will never break me.”
“I hope so, Leah. Just…consider my advice. End this before it gets too serious, for your own sake.”
She was right, more than she realized. I excused myself and marched to my office. My emails dinged with a dozen new requests for information, interviews, statements, and explanations. My first priority was spinning the accident and details of Jack’s latest indiscretion.
But I couldn’t do it now.
Jack’s plan wouldn’t work. We had to stage a breakup before the lie spiraled any further out of control.
I took an early lunch and raced to the Rivets’ practice facility, slipping through security with a flash of an issued badge courtesy of Ironfield’s star, trouble-making quarterback. Usually publicists didn’t get access to the field, but most publicists handled normal clients—clients who showed up on time, did their jobs as best they could, and managed their sponsorships with an ounce of professionalism.
I stormed through the tunnels and onto the field. The team wasn’t in training camp yet, but the players were encouraged to return to standard practices and exercises in preparation for the season. I thanked my lucky stars Jack was back where he belonged. He could make a spectacle out of himself on the field instead of in a bar, public restroom, concert venue, or roadside accident.