Page 21 of Scores Of The Heart

“Do not even attempt to convince me Tyler bad boy Peterson isn’t giving you something on the sly!” Simon chortles in a hushed whisper as we make our way back up the hall. The players have all, unfortunately, walked off in the other direction and I can’t see Tyler over a sea of other heads, anyway.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“Seriously!” He tuts. “I saw you and Andrea note passing by the way.”

“Very juvenile of us,” I concede.

Andrea laughs. “Who cares? It’s not like I could shout it out while the GM was talking.”

“That’s true. But you can’t deny nothing is going on.” Simon gives me a friendly nudge.

We get back to our office and Simon sidles inside the doorway, clearly not done here.

“Honestly, nothing is going on. I ran into him this morning chasing you down the hall,” I remind them. “I friggin spilled my cold coffee on him.”

Andrea and Simon both fall about laughing.

“And he still makes eyes at you like that,” she sighs, fanning herself.

I shake my head. “No, he’s not interested in me like that. The guys know I’m Clive Carter’s daughter. They feel like they have to be nice or something.”

“Pfffft!” Simon shakes his head, slapping his leg with his hand. “That’s a good one!”

I give him a look.

“Tell us you don’t have the slightest hots for him, and we’ll drop it,” Andrea says, folding her arms across her chest. I wonder how she got so bossy in the last five minutes.

My mouth moves, but I realize after a second or two of them both staring at me, no words form. “Umm?—“

“Just as I thought,” Simon says, triumphant. “You should go for him, Cinders.”

I laugh a little, not at what he said, but the way he calls me ‘Cinders’ all the time.

“You’re out of your minds, both of you.”

“Why not? You said he was cute!” Andrea shrugs. “If I had any chance in the world, I’d jump on it, or rather, on him!”

They both cackle again, and I try to hush them.

“Oh, I would so jump him too,” Simon says, running his hand through his floppy hair and wiping his glasses on his shirt before putting them back on. “You need to have some fun, girlfriend.”

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Andrea rolls her eyes.

“What makes you think I don’t?”

They both giggle like schoolgirls again.

“Fine, I get that I don’t get out that much. But there’s Henry.” I shrug.

“Don’t use him as an excuse!” Andrea chastises.

I’m talking about my one-year-old little black French bulldog. I stay in with him quite a lot. Once a week I might meet up with the girls, have a drink or grab a bite to eat.

“He is a pretty cute excuse, but still.” Simon gives me a look. “You could be all snuggled up together if you gave it a chance.”

Urgh. They’ve noticed I haven’t been on the dating scene, too.

I don’t really know what it is or why I’m this way. Well, I sort of do.

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