Page 66 of One Baby Daddy
A Jerry McGuire-type, but a little more . . . sleazy-looking.
“And you must be James, the publicist.” I lend out my hand and he takes it, placing a kiss across my knuckles.
Okay, not Jerry McGuire, more Philip Stuckey from Pretty Woman, but with a full head of hair.
“Hayden must have told you about me. I hope it was all kind.”
Taking my hand back, trying not to wipe my knuckles on my shirt to rid of the feeling of his lips on my skin, I shrug. “Could have been kind, could have been irritated. Something about asking him if he’s bloated?”
James grips his tie, shuffling it back and forth on his neck. “Got to make sure my boys are in top form. During the off-season, some of them let themselves go and forget about the photo shoots we have lined up.”
“Well, nothing to worry here, as Hayden is in top form.” I wink and scan the room, looking for the man of the hour. He’s been in “hair and makeup” for what seems like an hour. What could they possibly be doing to primp him?
“They’re spray-tanning him if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Hmm, I don’t like that this dude can read my mind. It ups the level of his skeeze factor.
“Spray tan, huh, I guess that makes sense. He is a bit on the paler side, still hot though.” Looking James up and down, I ask, “Have you seen his eight-pack? Yummy, right?”
His brow pulls together. “Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say yummy, but yes, the man has a nice stomach.”
“Not just stomach, James. Abs, the man has abs.” I pat his arm.
“Yes.” He drags out the word, looking me up and down. He’s suspicious. I can see the assessment he’s making of me, the first judgment.
And I’m not looking my best, that’s for damn sure. I’ve seen better days. Pretty sure I still have a little bit of mascara residue under my eyes from last night. My wet hair is in the midst of air-drying, and I’m dressed in jeans and one of Hayden’s T-shirts. The only thing holding me together right now is the Egg McMuffin we had on the way here and the venti coffee gripped in my hand.
“Can I ask you something?” James asks, sticking his hands in his suit pants pockets, his shoulder tilted in my direction, as if we’re about to share a special conversation.
I take a sip of my coffee and look over the lid. “I would be surprised if you didn’t.”
Blunt. It’s the only way to deal with this kind of men.
The kind of men who think they’re doing the right thing by looking out for “their guys” when in fact, they’re ready to blow everything up. I’m not stupid. I know what this man’s end game is. He only makes money if his boys are performing well, if he’s able to portray them as perfect specimens. So why would he want Hayden to have a “distraction” in his life. To publicists and agents, a girlfriend is a distraction.
And I have a feeling he’s about to tell me that.
“How long have you known Hayden?”
“A little over a month. We met through a mutual friend.”
He nods. “And it’s going well between you two?”
“I’d say it is.”
“And what is it that you do?”
“I’m a nurse at a hospital in Binghamton.” Another sip of coffee. “Tell me, James, what exactly is your burning question? Are you trying to scope out information from me so you have dirt for the media? Are you thinking of every which way you can spin our situation so you can make me look bad and make Hayden look like a hero, in case things go sour?”
Silence falls between us as James chews on the side of his cheek, his eyes searching mine, calculating his next move.
Plastering on a fake smile, he says, “I would never dream of doing such a thing. I only want to get to know you.”
“Well I have no desire to get to know you.” I take down another gulp of hot liquid. “I know why you’re really here, okay? I’m not a vapid airhead; Hayden has the whole package. He is not only extremely talented on the ice, but he’s a kind human being, overtly attractive, and has a heart of gold. He’s exactly what every publicist dreams of. So your number-one priority is to make sure no one messes with your perfect package. I get it.” I lean forward, drawing him closer. “But I’m going to tell you right now, I’m not here to bring Hayden down. I’m here to lift him up, and I suggest you do the same instead of trying to dig for dirt from a girl who plans on sticking around for a very long time.” I pat his cheek, putting an end to our conversation just as Hayden walks up, looking drop-dead sexy in a pair of white boxer briefs.
He places a kiss on the side of my head and looks to James. “Everything okay over here?”
“Oh yes,” I answer. “James was asking if he could get me anything for my hangover. Sweet guy, this one.” I thumb toward James who purses his lips.
