Page 14 of Pursued by the Player

With that, the woman was on her way. Jett hated letting her leave knowing she had the information he wanted…needed, but he had no choice. He didn’t want to scare her off by pressing too hard. So far she was his only shot at finding her, he didn’t want to blow it.

The whole encounter gave him a new burst of adrenaline. He would find her. He was sure of it. Not wanting to rely solely on the whim of a stranger, he decided to start asking around about the shoe again. But right on the heels of that burst of adrenaline was his agent, ready to burst said bubble.

“Jett, there you are, I’ve been looking for you all over. Why don’t you come upstairs to my office so we can chat?” She adjusted the bag on her shoulder, tucking it more tightly under her arm. Jett was fairly certain she wished she could do the same thing to him, keep him tucked more neatly, on a shorter leash.

“Don’t you think we’ve chatted enough lately, Gloria? I already heard what you had to say yesterday. I need to stay focused on the game, stop doing things to hurt my image. Blah blah. I get it.”

“Do you? Then why are you out here like a crazy person shoving a woman’s shoe down everyone’s throats? Why are you making headlines and popping up on all of the celebrity gossip websites? We just talked about this, Jett.”

“Listen, I know this looks crazy. It is crazy! But I can’t help it; you don’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“I don’t know what it is about this woman, but I can’t get her out of my head. And I don’t even know her name. I have to find her. I just have to.”

“Look, I’m all for a romantic story, but there’s a difference between romantic behavior and stalker behavior. Try and distinguish between the two. And try not to kill your career while you’re at it, okay?”

“You got it, boss.” Jett threw her a cheesy grin he’d used his whole life to keep the woman in his life from getting too upset with him, and it worked like a charm. She just shook her head at him and let him continue his questioning as she returned to her office.

* * *

Mel slidinto her cubicle chair and dropped her purse on her desk.

"Boss has been waiting for you.” Greg popped his head over the divider, running his hand over his dark facial hair. "Seems real mad." He flashed her a shit-eating grin that made her stomach turn.

"What have you done this time?" Joel peeked around the corner at her, pushing his chic glasses with thin, black wire frames up his nose as he did. "The man has been tearing the place apart looking for you for the past hour."

"Don't you two ever separate?" Mel asked.

Joel and Greg stepped around the divider until they came into full view. Both men dressed more fashion forward than most men Mel knew; Joel had on fitted black slacks, a gray and black animal print sweater and red, patent leather dress shoes. Greg. was a bit more trendy, wearing a black military-inspired jacket, a dress shirt with a bold black and white print, topped off with a black fedora.

"Look, missy," Greg said. "Don't be mad at us because we aren't on Kennedy's shit list--"

"She's just jealous." Joel waved his hand in the air in dismissal.

"Why on earth would I be jealous of the two of you?" The men were inseparable and thrived on drama almost as much as her boss.

"She doesn’t know," Joel said.

"The girl doesn't know." Greg gasped theatrically, placing his hand on his heart.

"Doesn't know what?"

"Oh, honey." Greg stepped into her cubical with fake concern etching his features. "Don't get upset at us."

"It wasn't as if we were courting Mr. Hansen for this project or anything. . ."

"You got the Hansen project?" Mr. Hansen was one of the biggest accounts, and the most prestigious. His department stores rivaled Nordstrom’s and pleasing him would mean getting your clothes seem and worn by millions of people.

"Got it this morning." Greg blew on his fingernails and rubbed them on his shirt. "Kennedy delivered the news to us personally."

Mel stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "That's great." She had wanted that account, wanted it bad. She had thought for sure that Kennedy would have picked her over these two knuckleheads.

"Melody? Is that you I hear?" Kennedy's voice rang out from the other side of the office area.

Mel grabbed her notebook and pen and retrieved her reading glasses from her purse. "Excuse me."

"Like I said, don't be mad at us," Greg said.

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