Nothing could have shocked her more. "Seriously?"
He rubbed his eyes, suddenly looking his age. "Your mother read me the riot act. Said I wasn't giving you a fair chance."
So Mommy had come to rescue her baby girl, just like she had years ago on the playground, or at the dinner table when her father chastised her for not getting better grades. Which meant that nothing had really changed. Her father didn't really want her to be an agent.
He was simply afraid of his wife.
Melissa stopped her self-pitying thoughts cold. If she wanted to change her life, she needed to focus on the positive. Regardless of her father's reasons for giving her this chance, this was her opportunity to blow his expectations out of the water.
"Who's the player?"
He gestured to the file and she picked it up. JP Jesse. His name vaguely registered on her radar.
"He's been playing for five years. The Tennessee Titans cut him and he was an unrestricted free agent who no one wanted out of the gate in March. In May he was given a tender offer by the Titans, but he's desperate to get out of Tennessee. Which means the clock is ticking on signing him to another team before the free-agent period runs out July twenty-second. And I don't have two weeks to kill finding JP a new contract."
But she did. She flipped through JP's file. He didn't play much, but when he did his stats were impressive, averaging fifteen yards a reception and a touchdown every ten catches.
"Looks like he has potential," she said as she scanned the information.
Her father shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."
A warning bell went off in her head. Her father never took on long shots; every last one of his clients was a sure thing. Oh crap. He's taken on a player to pacify me.
"Does he drink?" she asked. "Party? Blow it during big games when the pressure's on?"
Her father nodded. "All of the above. The Titans' official reason for releasing him was a DUI he got in January. But after looking through his file, I think he's got bigger problems than partying too hard." He paused. "I'm counting on you to make him into a star wide receiver. Or drop him on his ass."
How the hell was she supposed to do all that in two weeks? Well, this was her chance to prove to her father that she had what it took to be the best damn agent in the business. "Thank you for this opportunity."
Leaving her father's office, she pulled out JP's 8 x 10. A tall, lean, dirty blonde with a wicked gleam in his eyes stared back at her. Unabashed sensuality leaped off the page. They'd start with his looks, then work on his skills. With a face and body like that, if she couldn't get him a new contract, maybe she could negotiate an agreement with a modeling agency.
Engrossed in JP's file, she walked straight into a rock wall. The folder—along with her glasses—went flying as she tried to catch her balance. Strong hands curled around her shoulders and a familiar scent of heat and pine needles assailed her senses.
"Steady now," the wall said as he slid his hands down her arms.
"I'm fine," Melissa muttered into Dominic's chest. "You can let go of me now."
Both bent down to pick up the pages and videos from JP's file. "Thanks," she said, then stood and replaced her glasses. Edging past him in the suddenly small hallway, she dismissed him with a cheerful, "Have a nice day."
But his fingers cupped her elbow. "We need to talk."
Her heart thumped erratically. Couldn't he at least give her twenty-four hours? But this was her father's office, and she had no choice but to listen to his superstar clients.
"Follow me," she said, leading Dominic into the biggest conference room in the agency, one that could hold all forty board members. Unlike the smaller conference rooms, which had glass walls that looked into the main office floor, this one was paneled in glossy mahogany. Now if he would just sit at the far end of the enormous table, she might be able to get through part deux of their postscrew chat in one piece.
He pulled out the chair next to hers and her body reacted to his nearness against her will. "What can I help you with?" she asked impersonally.
He handed her a thick sheaf of papers. "Here's our new contract." His eyes were dark and hungry— but still guilty. "I'm yours."
Her ni**les peaked and she knew her sweater did nothing to disguise her arousal. How badly she wanted his words to be true. But not like this—not because he thought he owed her for having sex with her.
Shaking her head, she slid the papers back to him. "I've already got my first client," she said, thankful that it was true. "I don't need your charity."
He looked taken aback. "Your father changed his mind?"
She lifted her chin. "He did." She'd never admit to anyone in a million billion years that her mother had been behind it.
He smiled at her and butterflies did 360s in her stomach. "I'm glad." He looked at the thick folder. "Who'd he give you?"