Page 37 of Pursued by the Player

Chapter 10

“Doyou have the last of the designs ready?” Kennedy rubbed his hands as he walked into the room. “There’s only two more weeks until the show.” How was he always so damn put together? It wasn’t fair. Here she was, worked ragged with bags under her eyes and hair a mess and he walked in here looking fresh faced and ready to conquer the world in his designer jeans, suit coat, complete with pocket square, and dress shirt. It probably had something to do with the eye cream he kept in his desk and applied multiple times a day. The eye cream he thought no one knew about but was a running joke in the office.

“It took a few tries, and a little arm pulling. . .” Mel put down her pencil and took off her glasses, placing them on a toppling plie of fabric samples and design sketches. Her desk had become as cluttered as she felt, papers piled high, sketches strewn everywhere, every inch of her desk covered “But I think we’ve got them.” She grabbed a mouse and opened a couple of windows on her computer.

“Wow, that’s amazing. Is that for the finale?”

“Yeah. I thought we’d go out with a splash.” A sleek, high waisted, leather pencil skirt with heavy fringe that started at the knee and fell to the floor was paired with a sporty baseball inspired tee – a white bodice with black sleeves and Los Angeles written in black lettering on the front. A quilted leather black clutch with a long, delicate gold chain and gold bangles completed the look.

“I wanted to create something that everyone could wear. Something practical.” She shifted slowly through the designs.

“They look so . . . sporty.”

“I was inspired.” That wasn’t the whole truth. She couldn’t get Jett out of her mind, and it seemed as if thoughts of him had blended into her work. The outfits were either inspired by baseball or the team logo. “I thought that some of these could be adapted to children as well.” She paused on a screen. “Like this one. I call it the player.” Grey fitted slacks with a black stripe down each side was paired with a solid black shirt with a silver, sequined lion on the front, designed to look like Jett’s tattoo. The look was completed with a black baseball hat that had a black leather strap around the front. “I was thinking for the kids, we go with gray sweats or leggings, complete with black stripe to keep them looking baseball inspired, change the color of the shirt to white with black sleeves, and make the lion a full-color image instead of sequin applique.”

“Expanding the market. Good thinking.” He studied her face for a moment as if considering something. “I think that this might be your best work yet.”

“It is?” She glanced at the computer screen.

“Absolutely.” He pointed to the design on the screen. “It’s high concept and adaptable. I think that the marketing on this is incredible. If we can get your boyfriend—“

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

He raised his brows. “Friend?”

She shook her head as a heaviness weighed on her heart. “Not even that, I’m afraid.”

“What happened?” He crossed his arms. “You two were getting such great publicity.”

She pressed her lips together in thought. There he went again. Always thinking about the job, or what angle he could play. “Forget it.”

“Forget what?” He widened his eyes in innocence.”

“I’m not dragging Jett into this.”

“It could be mutually beneficial.”

“No way.” She minimized the windows with the designs on her computer. “I’d rather have no designs than to include him.”

Kennedy leaned against the side of her desk and crossed his arms. “You have to be seen with him.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible.” He leaned forward and grabbed her upper arms. “Think about it. These designs were obviously inspired by him. If we don’t have his backing, they are going to be ten times harder to sell.” He tightened his grip briefly before letting go. “We might as well not sell them at all.”

“Are you telling me that you are going to cut the line if we can’t get Jett on board?”

He shrugged. “Ideally, I’d like the whole team, but I would settle for the star player.”

“You’re terrible.”

“I’m a businessman.” He nudged her calf with his foot. “Relax. I’m not asking for a lifetime commitment here. Just . . . Go out with him a few times, and make sure some photographers are there.”

“You want me to manipulate him.”

“He would get some great publicity out of it as well.”

“I can’t do that.”

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