Page 12 of The Show

“Come on boys, you heard the man.” Murray jumped up and grabbed some more beers from the fridge, handing them around and leaving one for Billy.

* * *

Three hours and three very full bellies later, Murray and Rafe left to go home and get ready before meeting me at the heliport for the short flight to my grandparent’s house in Connecticut.

I was about to head upstairs for a shower when I spied Lowe’s phone on the side, and cursed the pair of them all the way down to the front door of the building. I cursed harder when that was the exact moment Lowe decided to retrieve it.

We stopped and stared at each other. Or rather I stopped and stared at her, and she likely just stopped to wonder what the fuck I was doing, and why I was such a weirdo.

“Um, I have your phone,” I awkwardly thrust it out at her.

She stepped forward and took it from my open, slightly sweaty palm. “Thanks, Penn.”

I nodded, bobbing my head as I rammed my hands into the pockets of my shorts. If anyone could see this interaction, I’d be given a lifetime ban from any eligible bachelor list. There was nothing smooth or sexy oranythingabout this except awkwardness and humiliation.

It soon became clear to both of us that I wasn’t going to say anything else, so she turned and left the way she came, while I was still glued to the spot.

I was about to let out the breath I’d been holding when she spun round.

“You know, Laurie was right. I can always help you,” she smiled, nervously, “if you want…”

“Can you give me a whole new team?” I grumbled.

“Come on, all the players can’t be that bad. There must be some good ones.” She giggled lightly, making my heart thump.

“Maybe,” I scuffed an imaginary mark off the floor, concentrating on that instead of her.

She was currently backlit by the sun, making her look more ethereal than usual, but it also meant I could see right through her dress to the very clear outline of her heavenly body. There was no way I could shift my shorts without it being obvious I was getting hard.

“So keep the ones you want, and get rid of the ones you don’t.”

I looked back up at her face,onlyher face.

“Okay, well, see you later, maybe.” She smiled and disappeared out the door onto the street.

I’d say that could have been worse, but it was unlikely.

I scratched my beard again; it was starting to get itchy. I checked my watch, considering it would take me at least two hours to get my face clean and smooth, and to the standard my grandmother would deem acceptable, I needed to hustle.

Looked like Cinderella was going to the ball, after all.

3

Lowe

Mario, my makeup artist, stepped back, studied me for a second, then moved so I could take a proper look at his work in the mirror and found myself fixating on the slash of bright red he’d painted on my lips.

“It’s the perfect shade for you! It sets off the blonde of your hair, and the blue of your eyes. Perfect. Perfect.”

I puckered up my lips, over and over, turning my head to study every angle. I’d never worn a shade like this before, even though Mario tried to push it on me every time he did my make up, but I’d never been convinced I could pull it off. I always tried to hide the fullness of my lips, and red certainly didn’t help me accomplish that.

Instead, I preferred to go heavier on the mascara. For some reason, tonight I was feeling a little different, a little daring, and so I’d told Mario to do whatever he wanted. He’d followed my instruction to the letter, painting my lips with the reddest of reds, because he didn’t know if he’d ever have another opportunity.

But this… this I could go for.

Maybe it was Beulah’s recent influence; she rocked a bold lip.

“Yeah…” I nodded slowly, peering up at him with a coy smile. “I’m into it. Don’t know why it took you so long to persuade me.”