Page 15 of On Merit Alone
The fact that she had them on after barely refraining from ripping me a new one brought a quirk to the side of my mouth.
Something Ryan said belatedly landed in my head. I looked at him. “You represent her?”
“I do,” is all he said. He sounded distracted as he turned in her direction.Also interesting. “Good luck, Ira.”
And then he was making his way down the hall to his “other” problem child.
Toward Merit Jones.
Chapter Six
Merit
A touch so light,as if it only consisted of fingertips, is what tipped me off that it was Ryan. Aside from handshakes, Ry was sparing with his physical contact, which I didn’t mind. I wasn’t all that touchy of a person either.
“Are you here for me?” he asked by way of greeting.
Locking my phone and tipping a look over my shoulder, I gave a small shake of my head. “No, I, uh, had a meeting with Kristy. She’s going to get me an interview or something with Chelsea Cherry in hopes of smoothing all this over.”
Nodding, he whipped out his phone and was scrolling through his calendar before I even finished my sentence, but he answered as if he’d been listening to every word. “That’s probably a good plan, though I'm suspicious. I’ll talk to Manzinni and see what’s going on. Is there any particular reason you’re hanging around the lobby if you’re done with your meeting?”
Um, yes, but it was over my cold, dead body that I told him the actual reason I was hanging around. So, pasting on my sarcastic look, I said, “Ryan Carmen, is that you? Actually caring about something other than your schedule?”
Smartassery is the only thing that ever got him to look up at me, and when he did, he glowered.
“You’re right, it’s none of my business.” Locking his phone, he slipped it into his pocket and pivoted. I wondered absently if he moved on some kind of track, all mechanical and sharp. Case in point: the pin-sharp look he stabbed me with. “Make sure to keep it that way. And stay out of trouble.”
“Okay,” I said easily, not bothered by his threats. It’s just the way he communicated.
Looking me up and down, something the size of an atom probably softened in his features. “Good game last night. Get some rest.”
Another fingertip tap on my shoulder, and then he was off.
I bit my lip. Should I get going too? I really had come to talk to Kristy, the Dynamite’s PR manager, about doing some interviews to salvage my “image”, as Rob eloquently put it. It seemed that with the maternity bashing and recent string of losses, it was taking a nosedive as of late.
And Manzinni was on my case about it.
All that aside, I’d stuck around for a different reason. One that didn’t seem to be working out all that great as I stood there loitering like an idiot.
Five more minutes.Whipping my phone out, I resumed my previous scroll.Five more minutes, and then I would give it up.
The screen I peered at was nothing new. The only thing I’d been able to look at or think about since seeing it in the locker room was number eleven. Right now, I flipped between the two photos I found the other night online and the newest tidbit of information I found on him. An interview he did after that fateful game. Not the one from the other night, but one he had done almost directly following his injury. Before he’d even gotten surgery or started recovering or even spoken to the doctors about his chances of ever picking up a basketball again.
It read like normal, with all the usual questions and answers common in our industry. But the answers still stuck with me.
There was something about the surety of everything he did that was inspiring. Admirable. I wanted to take a piece of it and bottle it up for myself. All I ever felt was unsure. Like some kind of driftwood, just floating around waiting until the next uncontrollable wave came to knock my life upside down again. Holding onto these little tidbits, they were helping me. So I snipped parts of the interview and saved them to the secret folder I was now harboring of this man. Bottling up his confusing presence in the way I knew how. God, I hoped no one found out.
“Stalking me?” an easy, familiar voice asked from over my shoulder.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Turning, I was met with the same surrendering hands I had encountered in the gym that night. I glared. The memory of him standing over me reminded me that before the guy was inspiring to me, he was annoying.
I led with the more familiar of the two first.
“No,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I happen to do business here too, in case you forgot.”
“I know.” He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth wobbling in a smirk that said he knew something I didn’t. “Wasn’t talking about that, though.”
