Page 4 of Game On

It was true; Carly did have a nice time in Cabo. Especially the brief time spent in Shane Devlin’s arms. Putting down her tea so Asia couldn’t see the slight tremor caused by her thoughts of Shane, Carly winced inwardly at the way she’d left him. It was childish. She should have just come clean in Mexico. Instead, she now faced an awkward situation when they first ran into one another at work. He was arriving today for a press conference and meetings with the coaches. A three-day player mini-camp was scheduled for the rest of the week. Maybe Carly would seek him out to explain why she’d abruptly left the dance floor. Maybe they’d both laugh about it. Yeah, maybe.

“But you really needed some downtime after all you and your family have been through these past few months,” Asia persisted, forcing Carly’s thoughts back to the present.

“Asia, I gave my sister some bone marrow, not a kidney. I’m fine. Besides, I’m just glad I could help you and Hank out. It made me feel useful.”

“Useful? Carly, you were amazing!” Asia said. “Your contacts are unbelievable. I never would have been able to ferret out some of that information about Shane Devlin.”

Carly took a sip of tea. “Well, one tends to become great friends with those slimy paparazzi when they were picking through your garbage.”

Asia gave her a look tinged with pity, slightly shaking her head at Carly’s self-deprecating humor. Carly steeled herself with another swallow of tea.

“Do you miss it?” Asia asked softly.

“Having total strangers hound your every move?” Carly shuddered.

“No, the sophistication and glamour of living as a European socialite.”

“Never,” Carly answered firmly. It was true. She hadn’t asked to grow up in a fishbowl of European paparazzi. Her mother, Veronica March, was a media heiress, traveling the world as a correspondent for a cable news channel. Carly was ten when Veronica had been murdered by terrorists. She’d never known who her father was. It was the media who broke it to her. “Darling Carly,” as they’d dubbed her, was Veronica’s “love child” with a married American news anchor. Unfortunately Carly’s existence was news to her father as well. It made for great fodder to sell tabloids—including those owned by her grandmother. It was not a pleasant way to grow up. But her childhood couldn’t prepare her for how the media treated her later in life. Carly refused to think of Max right now. Lifting her gaze, she locked eyes with Asia.

“No, Asia. I don’t miss it. Like I said, I love my job here. I feel useful.” Her voice was steely, she knew. But Asia not only boasted a national championship in NCAA basketball, but an MBA from the Wharton School’s business program as well. Carly knew Asia appreciated toughness.

“Good,” Asia said, her voice sounding just as determined as Carly’s. “Because I’m going to need a little more help in the next few weeks.”

“Of course. Whatever you need. I’m sure Hank won’t mind.”

“It was Hank’s suggestion, actually. It’s going to be difficult for me to carry out the media blitz we have planned for our new quarterback with this bum knee.” Asia gestured to her leg, which was encased in a brace. “Someone needs to babysit him on his media outings while I’m still immobile. Both Hank and I thought you’d be perfect.”

Carly took too big a swallow of her tea and nearly choked as the hot liquid burned down her throat. She wasn’t sure if it was the hot drink or the shock of having to spend time with Shane Devlin—more than just sharing a laugh over her humiliating exit in Cabo—but she couldn’t seem to find words to respond to Asia. Not that Asia was waiting on a response.

“I can handle today’s press conference, but my knee is going to need surgery once the swelling goes down. Then there’s physical therapy . . . Carly, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Carly reassured her friend. “Just feeling bad that you have to go through all that.” It was a lie. Not that Carly wasn’t feeling sorry for Asia; she was. But she was trying to figure out a way to deal with Shane Devlin without her hormones going haywire.

“Hmm. I’ll be suffering and you’ll get to spend time with a gorgeous bad boy,” Asia said. “Who knows, maybe you two will hit it off.”

Carly stared at Asia, trying desperately not to let her mouth gape open, all the while wondering if Julianne had broken her promise not to tell a soul about her close encounter with the Devil of the NFL.

“He’s not my type.” A girl could lock lips with a guy who isn’t her type. It happened all the time.

“No one’s your type,” Asia said sarcastically before taking a swallow of coffee.

“I wouldn’t say that,” a male voice chimed in from behind them. “I’m sure there are a few guys who could be the perfect type for Carly.”

The hairs on the back of Carly’s neck stood on end as she recognized the voice behind her. Great. It was Joel Tompkins, one of the team’s beat reporters. She’d made the mistake of having coffee with him several weeks ago and he’d been pestering her for a date ever since. Lately, he’d been popping up everywhere she went.

“Tompkins, you know media aren’t allowed in this part of the building.” Asia pinned him with the haughty voice known to cause grizzled sports writers to back down.

“I know,” Joel said, his eyes glued on Carly. “I need to get my parking pass updated.”

“Mary handles that up front and you know it,” Asia replied. “Either find your way back to the press room or find your credentials revoked for a week.”

“She’s such a buzz kill,” Joel said. Leaning his hip against a nearby table, he slowly eyed Carly from head to toe. “How was Cabo, Carly? You’re back early. You must’ve missed me.”

Carly was too stunned to respond. Only a handful of people knew where she had gone on vacation, and she would swear on her life that none of them would tell Joel. The guy was really starting to creep her out. Before she knew it, Donovan Carter, chief of security for the Blaze, appeared out of nowhere and had Joel by the arm.

“Tompkins, I thought you and I had already talked about staying in your side of the facility,” Donovan practically growled. Joel cowed quickly, intimidated by the stocky African American former Marine.

“Just checking on my best girl,” Joel said as he yanked his arm out of Donovan’s grasp. With a jaunty salute, he sauntered toward the hallway. “I’ll see you later, babe,” he called over his shoulder.

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