Page 12 of Touchdowns and Temptations

*Marina: Who?

*Cara: The guy from the bar!!! Noah!!!

*Marina: The hottie with the fork?

*Cara: Yeah!

I roll my eyes at her comment about the fork. She'll tease me about that forever. I'm sure of it. My cell phone rings and Marina's name comes up.

“Hello,” I answer, grinning.

“Oh my God!” she screams without a greeting. “Is he as hot as he was in the bar? Who is he? What's he doing?”

“Marina,” I sigh. “Calm down.”

“I can't,” she whines. “You totally screwed up with him and now he's back. It’s fate!”

“Oh God,” I groan, running my fingers through my hair, “you're crazy. And to answer your question. He's Noah McCarter, quarterback of the Boston Foxes.”

“Holy shit,” she gasps, “wow, how did that go?”

“Well,” I huff, sinking deeper into my couch. “He'll only work with me if I go out with him.”

“On a date?”

“Yes,” I groan.

“Oh wow,” she says, actually speechless. This hardly ever happens. Marina always has something to say. But this time she is silent. I am very surprised.

“Have you said yes yet?” she wants to know, and I roll my eyes. Of course, that's all she's interested in and not the fact that going out with him would get me in trouble.

“I'm not dating my future client,” I reply indignantly. “I can’t. It's unprofessional.”

“What if it works out?” she tries again.

“Marina,” I warn. “Please.”

“Okay, okay,” she backs down. “You really want him as a client?”

“Yes,” I say. “I don't think this meeting is a good idea.”

“On the other hand,” she says, and I know what's coming. Marina is going to convince me to go on a date with Noah after all. “What do you have to lose? If he doesn't become your client afterwards, okay. And if the date sucks, that’s okay too. Just look at it as a chance to meet a hot guy and get a new, your first, client.”

“Marina,” I mutter. “Why did I call you?”

“Because I'm your best friend, you love me, and I only want what's best for you.”

“Probably,” I chuckle. “I'll send him an e-mail.”

“How formal,” she mumbles, and I laugh.

“Of course it's formal,” I insist. “I want to keep it formal. I don't want him to think I'm interested in him.”

“Which, of course, you aren't,” she replies with a laugh. “I get it. Write him an e-mail and play hard to get. It's sexy.”

“I don't want to be sexy; I want to be professional.”

“You're not one to make things simple,” she scolds, and I roll my eyes. “Try it and go out with the hot guy. I bet the sex with him is amazing.”

---