Page 19 of Thunderstruck
Meltsks. “Can you blame him? That girl ripped his heart out.”
Oh boy. And here I was thinking Cole was just a grump with a high opinion of himself.
“I know that,” Moxie says, “but it’s not like he’s trying to get over her. He just keeps getting worse.”
“You know how he felt about her!”
“Not really. He barely talks to me.”
“He doesn’t have to say the words. Sometimes you can just tell how a person feels about someone by looking at them.”
I clear my throat. While tempted to let them keep talking about Cole so I can learn more about him, I don’t think this is the kind of conversation he would want me to hear. I don’t need a reason to get even more on his bad side. “Any other advice? Bean was easy to figure out, but this is a big team. I want to make sure I’m as helpful as possible. As quickly as possible.”
Moxie opens his mouth, but Mel lets out a loud curse as she looks at her phone. Wincing, she offers me a quick apology, then says to Moxie, “Another daycare fell through. I need to go.”
“Of course,” Moxie says and steps aside so she can scurry out the door with her bag. As soon as she’s gone, he sighs and shakes his head. “She needs help,” he mutters.
I know nothing about kids—the curse of being the baby of the family—but I wish I had some way to help. “Could she bring her kid to practices?”
“If Coach is gone, probably, but there’s no way to know if…” He stops himself and scrunches his nose as he looks at me. “You’re friends with Tamlin Park,” he says, as if reminding himself.
I laugh. “Trust me. I barely know Tamlin.” It’s true enough, considering Darcy is so different when she’s playing the part of her reporter alter ego. “I don’t have any intention of giving her anything she could use against the team. I need this job, so I’m on your side.” I’m sure Darcy will ask if I learn anything interesting, but I mean it when I say I don’t plan on sharing any secrets. My sister may have gotten me this job, but I intend to keep it on my own merits.
No way am I letting this one implode like the last one.
Humming, Moxie studies me carefully, then nods, as if deciding he can trust me. “What’s your background, Paxton?”
“You can call me Rizzo. Or Carissa.”
He smiles briefly. “Carissa.”
“Up until a few weeks ago, I worked in a physical therapy office back East.” I can see his question even before he opens his mouth, so I add, “I was one of the therapists.” Too many people have assumed I was a receptionist or something because I don’t look old enough—or strong enough—to be a PT.
He hums again. “Cole says I should keep an eye on you.”
As my jaw drops, I can’t help but find this whole thing hilarious. I barely talked to the man, but there’s something about me he clearly doesn’t like. “Cole is paranoid,” I say with a grin. “My sister is friends with Bonnie Aiken. You know, the actress?”
Moxie chuckles. “I know.”
“So I was hanging out with Cole’s friends yesterday, and I think he’s convinced I am up to no good.”
“It does seem conveniently coincidental.”
Shrugging, I grab my bag from where I left it behind Mel’s desk, since there’s no point in me hanging around if she’s not here to show me the ropes. “Maybe, but it’s still coincidental, no matter how convenient. I promise I’m just here to work.”
But when I open the door and find half a dozen men waiting in the hall for me with bright and eager smiles, a blush steals across my face. “Oh. Um. Hi.”
“Bean says you have magic hands,” one of them says.
Cue an even hotter blush. “Does he now?”
“We were all hoping to get a taste.”
Moxie comes up behind me and clears his throat as he rests one hand on the door frame above me, the other on my shoulder. It’s a welcome show of support, whether or not that was his intention. “Careful what you say next, Tink,” he mutters.
Tink, the one who spoke, turns beet red and shakes his head wildly. “I meant with muscle stuff! Like she did with Bean! Mel’s always fixing the other problems and never has time to help with the minor stuff.”
“That’s not really in my job description,” I say, which is true. But there are few things I hate more than disappointing people, and they’re all looking at me so hopefully. I don’t want to set a precedent of giving massages willy-nilly, but I could make sure they’re doing proper stretches. “But I could try to help.”
