Page 3 of Fumble

“Holy shit! I’ve heard he’s a real hard-ass.” He eyes me warily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you more nervous. I’ve only heard from other journalists. I’m sure he’s not like that with everyone.” I take a sip of my drink, contemplating his words.

“God, I hope not. I don’t want to feel like I’m being berated by my dad all summer!” I feel a tap on my shoulder, sending my heart spiraling into my stomach. I look at James, his eyes wide like he’s seen a ghost. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” With a curt smile, he nods.

“Faith, sorry I’m late.” I turn in slow motion, sure that embarrassment is evident on my face. My cheeks are hotter than Satan’s jockstrap.

“Mr. Vau… ghn.” Holy crap, he’s nothing like I remember him. The man before me is every inch an athlete. His shoulders are broad, a crisp white shirt highlighting the corded muscles of his forearms. His left arm shows the hint of a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve, which is pushed up to his elbow. My eyes travel down the length of him, my mouth watering at the visible bulge in his pants.

“I’ll leave you to your meeting. Maybe we can have dinner while I’m in town? Here’s my number.” James’ voice fades in the background. I can barely hear him over the sound of my heartbeat thundering in my ears. “I’ll just leave my card.”

“Goodbye…” Mr. Vaughn lifts the card from the bar, a slight sneer staining his rugged features. “James.” My eyes follow his hand as he tucks the business card in his pocket.

“Faith, I think you’re drooling.” He snaps me from my shameless ogling, and I wipe at my mouth as a sultry laugh escapes his lips. “I was kidding.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” I hold out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Vaughn, and thank you for this opportunity.” He takes my hand, sending a bolt of lightning straight to my core. If there were any cobwebs, he just obliterated them with a single smile.

“Way to steal my thunder. I thought I was special, making you space out with that goofy grin, but you have a very specific effect on me.” I want to disappear. There needs to be a new word invented for the embarrassment I feel right now, but you know what they say—fake it till you make it.

“I’m sure your thunder is just fine. Can I order you a drink, Mr. Vaughn?”

“Why don’t you go and grab that booth in the corner, and I’ll get us some drinks?” I do as he asks, careful to put a little extra sway in my step. I can feel his eyes on me as I take a seat. Smoothing my hair, the anticipation of his proximity makes my body tingle. I’ve never had this reaction to a man before. I really wish he wasn’t my boss or my dad’s surrogate son.

I spy James leaving the bar, watching intently as Mr. Vaughn pulls him aside, whispering in his ear. Whatever it is, James is spooked, his gaze finding mine before darting to the floor. He makes a quick exit, and I can’t help wondering what Hunter said to him.

“Someone got your attention?” His glass thuds against the harsh wooden table, a tight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“No, sir.”

“Please don’t call me that. It makes me feel about a hundred years old.” He slides into the booth across from me.

“Sorry, Mr. Vaughn.” He runs his hand through his hair, and I swear my clit twitches. Is that even possible? Downing his drink, he signals the bartender for another round.

“Call me, Hunter. Or Vaughn. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you’re a naughty little girl…” His drink arrives along with a knowing smile. “Berated by your daddy.” Holy crap.

“I’m… so sorry. That was unprofessional.”

“I value honesty, Faith. People rarely tell me what they’re thinking.”

“I don’t think you’re old. Shit, that came out wrong. Fuck… I didn’t mean to curse!” This might be the worst introduction in history. I take a long swig of my drink, wishing the ground would swallow me whole. He reaches across the table, his hand resting on mine.

“Take a breath. I didn’t intend to make you so uncomfortable.” He stares at our hands as if the same spark pulses through him, pulling back like I just electrocuted him, and something about his demeanor gives me a little confidence boost.

“So, now you know I’m awkward, and I have an awful talent for putting my foot in my mouth at the most inappropriate times, but I guess my dad already gave you the 4-1-1 on that.”

“Your dad, he failed to prepare me for… you.”

“Well, I’m here and ready to do whatever you want me to.”

“Wow, that’s quite the proposition.”

“Don’t act like you don’t get that offer on a daily basis. I read the newspapers. My dad told me a lot of interesting stories about his surrogate son. I guess that makes us brother and sister.” Now he’s the one squirming in his seat.

“Yes, well, moving on. Your job is pretty simple… follow me around and take care of the little things. We have a lot to do this summer, and I’m not the best at remembering where I need to be and what time. If you get me there, we’ll get along just fine.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Hunter. I can absolutely do that.”

“Good.” His manner changes on a dime, the playful football persona gone, replaced with a serious businessman. “I had Malcolm send the itinerary to your room. It’s self-explanatory. We’ll meet in the lobby at eight in the morning. Sharp. I value promptness. I don’t like to keep people waiting. It’s disrespectful. Do you have any questions?” I think I’ve pissed him off.

“No. I’ll be sure to study the itinerary tonight. I won’t let you down.”

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