Irresistibly Yours - Lauren Layne Page 0,12
black turtleneck that was slightly too big on her tiny frame. “Good luck, Mr. Sharpe.”
“Yeah, thanks. Oh, and Penelope—”
She paused in the doorway and turned back with a questioning smile.
Cole let his smile glow warm. “I’m sure it’s hard to move to a new city with so many new teams and players to learn. If you ever want me to show you where to start—”
“Save it, Sharpe. You have to see this,” Cassidy interrupted, coming to stand beside Cole.
Cassidy turned to focus on Penelope. “Terrence Mason.”
She frowned a little and shuffled her feet.
Cassidy nodded in encouragement to her, before turning his head slightly to Cole and muttering watch this out of the corner of his mouth.
Penelope licked her lips nervously. “Um, okay. Terrence Mason. Starting shortstop for the Mets, three twelve batting average, one-hundred-thirty-three-RBI season average over his six-year career, switch hitter despite missing the outer half of his left pinky due to a high school shop class accident—”
“Joe Carrington,” Cassidy interrupted.
Penelope didn’t even pause to think. “Second-string point guard for the Knicks. Severely underrated, never seems to make the same move twice on the court. Graduated from Duke, took his team to the NCAA championship all four years, was MVP his senior year after scoring—”
“Rick Macornis,” Cassidy said, interrupting again.
“Recently retired Rangers goalie. Probably could have gone a few more years, but he’d started to get slow, likely made a good call quitting while he was ahead. His GA was creeping up every year in a bad way. Had an affair with his left wing’s wife.”
Cole shook his head, feeling a little dazed. “I get it,” he said, all trace of levity gone from his voice. “I should be asking you for stats.”
“Oh, I’d like that!” Penelope said, seemingly missing his mea culpa altogether. “Perhaps we could grab coffee sometime. I’d love to pick your brain about which players like to talk and which need to be coaxed—”
She broke off, glancing between the two men, no doubt taking in Cole and Cassidy’s stunned expressions.
Was this woman for real?
They were neck and neck for a highly paid, highly desirable position with one of the largest magazines in the country and she wanted to have coffee and swap pointers?
“Uh…” was all Cole could manage.
“No pressure,” she rushed to say. “I just thought, well…I’m new to town. Mr. Cassidy has my number if you care to grab a drink sometime. Not a date, just, you know, just— Okay, good luck with your interview.”
Her words got faster and faster so that his brain had to scramble to follow along…and then she was gone.
The door shut with a click behind her, and neither Cassidy nor Cole moved for several seconds.
“Did that just happen?” Cole asked, still staring at the door.
“Apparently,” Cassidy murmured. “You going to call her?”
“Not if she gets my job,” Cole grumbled.
Cassidy didn’t respond, and Cole gave the other man a sharp look as the editor in chief walked around to sit down at his desk.
“Don’t jump to reassure me or anything,” Cole said under his breath.
Cassidy sighed. “Would you just sit down so we can do this damn interview?”
Cole eyed the door. “Do we have to do it now? You seem like you’re in a shitty mood.”
“Of course I’m in a shitty mood,” Cassidy said, running a hand through his hair. “You just interrupted that woman’s interview. She could sue us.”
“Please,” Cole said with a scoff. “She wanted to go to coffee with me.”
“Only because she doesn’t know you,” Cassidy muttered.
“Yup, you’re definitely in a shitty mood. Maybe we should reschedule—”
“Sit,” Cassidy commanded. “Let’s get this over with. How about we start with an easy one.”
“Sure,” Cole said, plopping in the chair, feigning cockiness he didn’t feel after Tiny Brunette’s impressive display of New York sports stats.
“Great,” Cassidy snapped. “How about you tell me what the hell you were thinking, barging in here—”
Cassidy’s rant continued for several moments, but Cole didn’t bother listening. He already knew the answer to Cassidy’s question.
Why did he barge into the office? It was a two-parter.
The first was easy. He’d wanted to ensure that a tiny Chicago outsider wasn’t getting his job.
The second part was more complicated. He’d wanted to see said tiny Chicago outsider.
Now he just needed to figure out why.
Chapter 4
“It can’t have been that bad.” The voice at the other end of the phone was soothing.
“Trust me,” Penelope said. “It was worse.”
There was a moment of silence as her younger sister thought this over. “And you say he just stared at you?”
“Like I