Page 28 of Scoring Grey

“No, I literally know zero people here and Cal is away,” I say as I look through the peephole and see Jenkins. “It’s just the doorman. Hold on.”

“Jenkins,” I answer as I pull it open and my eyes fall on his regretful expression.

“Miss Grey, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have Mr. Balfour on the phone, and I really do like my job?—”

I take the phone from his hands before he can continue, stepping away as I whisper-yell, “Cal, what are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” He raises his voice. “I could ask you the same question. You didn’t return my texts, and then the GPS on my truck showed you en route to the airport. Now you’re back and with another man!”

I roll my eyes. “So you threaten Jenkins’ job because of me?”

“I didn’t threaten Jenkins’ job. I told him I’d give him a tip if he’d go upstairs and put you on the phone.”

I turn to Jenkins. “Jenkins, what were you about to say before I took the phone from you?” I wave my hand in a prompt. “I really do like my job and…”

His eyes dart back and forth between mine until my ask registers. “I really do like my job, though sometimes I am put in precarious situations. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Ah, thank you, Jenkins,” I say, swallowing my pride and tucking my hair behind my ear before turning away. “Why didn’t you call?” I try in a more affable tone that sounds fake as fuck even to me.

“You tell me. Either you’re avoiding me or…”

“It’s dead,” I say as I pull it out of my pea coat pocket. I forgot to put it on the charger last night. Sleeping in his room had me out of sorts. “Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to ignore you. I woke up and talked to Adler, and then Iverson called, and I had to run and get my friend Dash, whom you’ve met, by the way, at the airport as a favor to my brother. I just got back.”

“I know,” he says as if nothing I said is news to him.

“You know? Do you mean you know I just got back or?—”

“I know all of it. When I couldn’t get a hold of you and saw you driving to the airport, I called Iverson. He filled me in.”

I’m not even surprised. My brother has always been Team Cal. “Okay… well, if you know everything, what is it that couldn’t wait until I texted you back?”

“It’s been twelve hours since I heard your voice,” he states matter-of-factly, and a smile that can’t be avoided parts my lips. “Tell me something, blondie.”

“What?” I try to sound unfazed.

“Did I make you smile?”

I shake my head. “Yes,” I admit, no longer holding back the glee in my tone, only to stifle it and say, “Now can I give Jenkins his phone back, or is there another pressing matter that requires I stand in the hallway to discuss in front of an audience?”

“There is one more thing.”

“Seriously?” I sigh exasperatedly.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

“You know where,” I answer, my cheeks flushing, though I know Jenkins can’t hear what he asked.

“Say it,” he presses.

I turn so my back is entirely to Jenkins and speak softly. “In your bed.”

“That’s my girl. I’ll call you tonight. Make sure your phone is charged this time.”

“Okay, we’ll talk later. Good luck tonight.” I know his game isn’t until this evening.

“Thanks, I’ll?—”

“Balfour, let’s go,” one of his teammates calls out in the background.

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