Page 19 of Game On

Carly jumped up from the floor to help her friend, adjusting the pillows beneath Asia’s brace. “It really hasn’t been too bad. I’m pretty anonymous among the sports press here in Baltimore, so no one even notices I’m there. It’s kind of nice doing a job I’m comfortable with. I guess journalism is in my blood.” Carly smiled down at Asia before resuming her place on the floor.

She was telling Asia the truth; working as a publicist again was kind of fun. Working with Shane wasn’t too difficult, either. All she had to do was accompany him to his various interviews and stand back and watch. Shane was a natural at navigating his way through an interview. He was knowledgeable about the game of football and patient with those who weren’t. His candor was appreciated by both the interviewers and the fans who called into the radio talk shows Shane appeared on. When questions got too personal, Shane expertly steered the conversation back to football. Carly couldn’t help but be a little envious of such a well-honed skill.

For the most part, Shane was relaxed and charming during the interviews. Except when the questions were about his father. Whenever the topic shifted to Bruce Devlin, Shane’s whole body language changed. He became tense and his answers more curt. The change in his demeanor was subtle, making it almost indiscernible to most people. But Carly had spent enough time with Shane these past weeks to pick up on the tension.

She was curious about Shane’s relationship with his famous dad, but not enough to ask him directly. While the sexual tension still hummed between them, Carly and Shane managed to carry on the guise of “friendly coworkers” by keeping their interaction to a minimum. It was working just fine. So far.

“Oh, puh-lease! Like you could ever be anonymous with those looks.” Asia’s comment brought Carly back to the conversation. “I’ve had at least three calls this week alone from guys at the radio and TV stations asking who you are and if you’re single,” Asia practically snorted.

Carly jerked her head up. “Tell me you didn’t let on who I am?” she pleaded.

“No way!” Asia said. “You know I’d never do that, Carly. Besides, I finally got that dweeb Joel Tompkins reassigned. We don’t need some other pest from the media creeping around after you.”

“Thanks,” Carly said with relief. “And thanks for taking care of the Joel situation for me. It’s been nice not to have to check around corners every time I walk around the building.”

“No problem.” Asia tossed her iPad onto the table next to the sofa. “Donovan said he wasn’t getting a good vibe from the guy. It wasn’t easy getting him out of here, though. Apparently, his grandfather owns the television station. Despite that fact, Joel doesn’t have too many friends there. He obviously makes a habit of creeping people out. No one actually wants him working for them. It took some doing, but Donovan and I persuaded them to transfer Joel to covering the Orioles. Let him bother some baseball players.”

“You and Donovan, huh?” Carly grinned. She carefully placed the last of the envelopes into a cardboard box. “Should I scratch the ‘and guest’ off his ticket to the gala?” she asked.

Asia smiled serenely. “He offered to take me. Obviously he’s not afraid to be seen with an ungraceful, gimpy woman.”

“Oh puh-lease,” Carly mimicked her friend. She stood and brushed off her pants and glanced at the clock on the Asia’s desk. “Wow! Four thirty already. I promised to do Emma’s hair for the dance tonight. I’ll drop these off with Amy before I go. Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave?”

“You can answer a question for me,” Asia said.

Carly gathered the box under an arm. “Sure, anything.”

“Do you ever do anything for you?”

She looked at her friend quizzically, unsure of what Asia wanted her to say.

Asia reached out to grasp Carly’s free hand. “You’re always running around here doing for everyone else. Or at Matt and Lisa’s doing for them or the kids. Even if Hank hadn’t butted in on your trip to Cabo, you still wouldn’t have spent it as a vacation. You would have been doing for Julianne.”

When Carly didn’t answer, Asia squeezed her hand. “All I’m saying is you don’t have to do so much for everyone else. You can say no once in a while. Instead of trying to make everyone else happy, why not do something that makes you happy? You’re allowed. The media won’t crucify you. I promise.”

“I am happy,” Carly pushed out through her suddenly tight throat.

Asia stared at her a moment before finally releasing her hand. “Go. Make your beautiful niece look more beautiful. Just remember what I said, okay?”

“Sure,” Carly said. It was unlikely she would forget.

In fact, Carly spent a restless night pondering Asia’s words. Was she happy? Staring at the ceiling as sleep evaded her, she ticked off the things in her life she was happy with: Her family. Or her half sister’s family, to be precise, definitely brought her joy. Lisa was alive thanks to her bone marrow, and Carly couldn’t be more thrilled.

Money wasn’t an issue, thanks to a generous trust fund left to Carly by her mother. In spite of that, Carly had a job she enjoyed, one that felt purposeful. It was certainly better than the life of a party girl the media expected of her. And she had friends. Carly had a few left who wouldn’t sell her out to the paparazzi.

All that was left in the happiness department was her love life, which was currently not bringing her much joy. Damn Asia. Carly tried to rationalize with herself that she wasn’t necessarily unhappy with her lack of a love life, but her close encounters with Shane Devlin pretty much negated that argument. This thing—this pull—she felt for Shane made her aware that she missed the intimacy she shared with her former fiancé. Fortunately, she no longer missed Max.

Which left her where, exactly? A fling with Shane was out of the question for so many reasons. He was a public figure, for one; what’s more, he was a professional athlete.

Maybe Asia was right. Carly should do something to make herself happy. She needed to start by actively searching for her Mr. Right. Only, thoughts of an accountant or podiatrist weren’t exactly torching her body the way a single look from Shane Devlin could.

The following morning, standing next to a tangle of utility cords off to the side of the set of the Good Day, Baltimore show, Carly watched as Shane bantered with the program’s perky female host during a cooking segment. To the amazement of the host, and everyone else in the studio, he was actually whipping up a plate of strawberry crepes. Shane laughed at something the woman said, his killer dimple appearing on one side of his mouth. Carly rocked back on her heels, his handsome smile nearly knocking her off her feet. He was definitely oozing charm this morning.

Shane was dressed in a Blaze golf shirt, which stretched handsomely over taut pectoral muscles and broad shoulders. He’d declined to wear the show’s logo apron, instead draping a pink breast cancer towel over his right shoulder. His fashion statement did nothing to diminish his masculinity. Carly tried not to drool as his strong hands whipped the wire whisk in the metal bowl. Her stomach growled. She wasn’t sure if she was hungry for the delicious-looking food or the more delicious-looking man.

“You certainly know your way around the kitchen, Shane,” the woman said, slithering a little closer him.

“I make it a point to be good at whatever I attempt, Cindy,” Shane replied with a wink at the now blushing TV host.

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