Page 9 of One Night Only
Fran’s face lights up as she rounds my desk, coming so close, her hands gripping my arms almost to the point of pain. “You hooked up with Dallas?”
My cheeks flame, and I’m suddenly regretting wearing a turtleneck today; I can hardly breathe right now.
“When did it happen?” Fran asks, eyes comically wide. “Where?” She’s actually beside herself. “How did?—”
“Stop!” I hold a hand up.
I barely even know this woman. In the few weeks that I’ve been working here, we’ve crossed paths in the hallway, the bathroom, the third-floor cafeteria. And sure, she seems nice enough, but she’s a relative stranger. A stranger who now knows too much.
Fran giggles. Giggles. I’m on the precipice of a literal panic attack, and she’s giggling.
“Fran, please don’t say anything,” I beg. “It was one drunken night of—” I stop myself before I say too much. “It was before I started working here. I had no idea who he was… I don’t even know why I went home with him. I?—”
“Wait a second!” Fran rears back, a confused look on her face. “You went home with him? With Dallas? To his apartment?”
I nod slowly.
“In Brooklyn?”
I nod again.
She seems to consider that. “And we’re definitely talking about the same Dallas Shaw?”
“Oh my God, keep your voice down!” I throw my hands in the air, taking a breath in an attempt to calm my racing heart. Imploring her with a serious look, I continue, “If anyone finds out about this, I could lose my job.”
“Oh, pfff!” She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “No one’s losing their job.”
“The woman before me did.” I wave a hand at my desk, as if the ghost of Paris is sitting right there with anI-told-you-solook on her face.
“Yeah, but she wasterrible,” Fran quips.
I don’t know much about my predecessor, but I’ve heard the stories. Apparently, she’d been trying to hook up with different HMC clients during her employment, as if her sole purpose for working here was to nab herself a professionalathlete. I suppose that’s why Andy has such a strict code of conduct.
“I’m not going to say anything,” Fran says after a moment. “But honestly, when it comes to Dallas, Andy needs to realize the odds of hiring a woman in this city who hasn’t had sex with him are slim to none.”
I deadpan. “Okay, so that doesn’t actually make me feel any better. You have to know that, right?”
She at least has the decency to look contrite.
“Oh, God, what am I going to do?” I groan, smoothing my hair back from my face. “I need this job.”
“Stop worrying.” Fran squeezes my shoulder. “I’m not going to say anything. I promise.”
“Yeah, but what about Dallas?” I throw my hands in the air. “For all I know, the moment I left, he told Andy everything. God, I’ll probably be unemployed before the day is over.”
“Okay, seriously, calm down.” Fran grabs me with both hands again, rubbing up and down my arms. “IknowDallas. Trust me. He’s not going to tell Andy.”
“How do you kn—” I blanch as a thought crosses my mind. “Oh, God. You haven’t had sex with him too, have you?”
“No!” She huffs an exasperated laugh. “I’m dating his best friend, Robbie.”
My brows draw together. “Robbie? As inMason?” Robbie is one of Andy’s clients too.
“Yeah. And I’m not fired, am I?” She smiles smugly, and a big part of me relaxes. That is until she adds quickly, “I mean, technically we were together before I started working here, but that’s totally beside the point.”
“Oh my God, Fran! That’s totallythepoint.” I throw my hands up again. “My employment contract specifically states I will not whore around with HMC athletes!”
“It does not say that.” She balks
