Page 15 of One Night Only
She snorts, stealing it back from me. “Yeah, gay. Notblind.”
“Secondly, focus, Tessa.” I smooth my hair back from my wine-flushed face. “This isn’t about what he looks like, this is about me having sex with a man almostten yearsyounger than me, who also happens to be my boss’sclient!”
“Okay, you need wine.” Tess jumps up and disappears into the kitchen.
“I’ve already had three glasses,” I mutter, grabbing my drink from the side table and knocking back the last of it.
Tess returns moments later, topping up my glass and then falling down next to me and necking a few gulps straight from the bottle. “Did he remember you?”
It’s then that I realize I’ve been so distracted by my Dallas Shaw deep-dive, I haven’t updated her with what happened in my office after our phone call was cut short.
“Holy shit!” Tess gasps after I tell her everything. “So he wants round two.”
“Of course he does. He’s… a slut.”
“Firstly, no slut shaming in this house. You’re better than that,” she scolds, only half-heartedly. “Secondly, he’s a gorgeous professional athlete, and he said he won’t say a word.” Tess clicks her tongue, looking up to the ceiling in thought before glancing dubiously at me. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me, because I’m having a hard time trying to understand what the big damn deal is?”
“The big damn deal,Tessa, is that there is a strict non-fraternization clause in the employment contract I signed. If Andy finds out… I’m fired.”
“But he said he’s not going to say anything,” she says like I’m an idiot.
“Oh, please.” I scoff. “Judging by the man’s track record, he’s probably already told half his teammates, the coaching staff, and the Thunder’s social media team by now.” I chew on my nail. “I’ll probably go into work on Monday to find a box of my personal belongings sitting behind the security desk in the lobby.”
Tess snorts. “You’re more dramatic than Dad.”
I roll my eyes, snuffing my anxiety with more wine I really don’t need.
My laptop chimes with a notification and Tess asks, “Who’sDo Not Engage?”
“Huh?” Confused by her question, I peer at the screen andalmost drop my glass when I see right there, in big bold letters, the name I designated for Dallas in my contacts.
DO NOT ENGAGE
“Oh my God, he just texted me!” I squeak, hiding my face with a hand. “Can he see me?”
“Dude, it’s a literal text message!” Tess guffaws.
“What does it say?” I whisper, too scared to look for myself.
“You up,” she says questioningly before sucking in a gasp.
“What?” Brows furrowed, I look from my sister to the words on the screen.
DO NOT ENGAGE: You up?
“What does that even mean?”
“It’s a booty call!” Tess throws her head back and laughs.
“What?” I balk. “Ugh. What a pig!”
Before I can even consider responding with a piece of my mind, another message pops up.
DO NOT ENGAGE: Sorry. That was sent in error.
Tess laughs. Again.
“Oh my God!” I shriek. “I don’t know what I’m offended most about. The fact that he sent me a booty call, or that he just admitted he sent it to the wrong number.”
