His jaw tightened and he pitched the papers back onto her desk “Lady” he said, interrupting her, “I resent your attitude. I’m not a dumb jock and I’m not a dumb Indian. Maybe I went to college on a football scholarship, but I went to Cornell, which is no kindergarten. I was premed, in case the football didn’t work out I had a 3.7 average in a biology major, so please don’t treat me like an idiot.”
Dolores chose this inopportune moment to reenter with Youngson’s drink Her smile vanished as she sensed the atmosphere of hostility. Bewildered, she set the cup down and quickly sidled out again.
Jennifer considered what to do. She felt that she had scored a point off him, but at the same time she was ashamed of herself. He was touchy and defensive under that gorgeous facade, and there was doubtless good reason to account for his feelings. Lord only knew what prejudices he had faced in the past. She knew that she had been condescending, and worse, it had not been entirely unintentional. His unexpected attractiveness had unnerved her, and in alarmed reaction she had struck back in the best way she knew: with the club of her intelligence.
“I’m sorry you think I was demeaning you,” she said softly. “Perhaps you’d like to read the rest on your own, and let me know if you have any questions.”
He relented and picked up the list again. She sat in silence as he scanned the lines. She noticed the length of his sooty lashes as his eyes moved down the sheets. He finished and handed the pages back to her. She waited.
The silence lengthened.
“Nothing to say, Ms. Gardiner?” he said, needling. “You were talkative enough before.”
“You seem to find everything I say irritating,” Jennifer said smoothly. “I’m trying not to annoy you.”
“Is that what it is?” he responded. “I find it annoying.”
Her eyes flashed to his face. It was serene, but there was a tiny hint of amusement in his eyes, a slight upward turn at the corners of his mouth. This was an overture. He would smile, if she would.
Jennifer smiled, but only slightly. He should know that she wasn’t bowled over by his charm.
He grinned back at her, and she felt the full force of his considerable allure. This one was different, all right Sharp as a scalpel and difficult to resist. She would have to be careful.
“They generally send someone along to make sure I’m a good boy on these little jaunts,” he said, gesturing to the list “Who is going to accompany me?”
“I am,” she said, meeting his gaze squarely.
He sighed and stood. “Well, in that case, I suggest we forget our slight misunderstanding and begin again.” He walked over to her and extended his hand. “Lee Youngson, how do you do?”
She took it His fingers were strong and warm. “Jennifer Gardiner. Hello.”
“Jennifer,” he repeated, trying it out “May I call you that?”
“Of course.”
“Well, Jennifer, I’m late for practice right now, so I’d better go. I guess I’ll be seeing you again.”
She nodded. “On the eighteenth, for the mall opening. I’ll contact you.”
“goodbye, then.” His smile was touched with irony. “It was nice…wrestling with you.”
He walked soundlessly to the door and left.
Wrestling, Jennifer thought. That was as good a term as any for what they’d been doing.
Working with Bradley Youngson was certainly going to be interesting.
Chapter 2
It was a month before Jennifer saw Lee Youngson again. During that time she did her best to forget him, but to no avail. He was the darling of the newspapers, and as she was responsible for reviewing all his press releases, and even composing some of them, ignoring his existence was not possible. His performance in the practices and the preseason games was the subject of much discussion, and there was speculation about whether or not he was worth his astronomical salary. The general consensus seemed to be that he was. Jennifer found that difficult to believe. As far as she was concerned, in order to deserve what the management was paying him, he would have to cure lepers and walk on water.
One hot afternoon in mid-August Jennifer paused in the middle of dictating a batch of letters and retreated to the rest room for a few minutes of peace. There was so much to be done in preparation for the new season that the bathroom was virtually the only place where she could escape the constant demands on her attention. She drew the line when Dolores tried to follow her in with her note pad. Dolores retreated, grumbling, to her desk.
Jennifer surveyed herself in the full-length mirror and wished she were in Greenland. Or Oslo, Norway. Anyplace cool and quiet where they had never even heard of football. Every year the September zaniness got worse, and now it was beginning in July. Autumn had always been her favorite season, but since coming to the Freedom her thoughts of it were always mixed with visions of constantly ringing phones and a desk buried under piles of correspondence.
Jennifer brushed out her shoulder-length, honey blonde hair and reflected that she looked tired. There were shadows under her gray-blue eyes, and her fair skin had the drawn quality she associated with late nights reading contracts and publicity fillers. She didn’t notice that her tall, slim figure was flattered by the blue silk jersey dress she wore, and her legs were long and elegant in sheer hose and heeled pumps. She reapplied a light coral lipstick and tied the sash at her waist in a neater knot. She sprayed herself with a spritz of perfume from the tiny atomizer in her purse and felt better.
She emerged to find Lee Youngson lounging against the wall outside her office. She stopped, startled. Then she glanced at Dolores, who shrugged slightly and gave her a “your guess is as good as mine” look.
The minute Jennifer saw him she knew that she had not imagined the electricity of their first encounter. During the intervening time she had tried to tell herself that her memory had magnified it, but this fiction was exploded the instant he straightened and met her glance. She felt the warmth of his eyes on her like a palpable thing. Nothing had changed.
“Hi,” he said. “Got a minute?”
“Hello, Lee,” she responded, schooling herself to react casually. “Sure I do. Come on in.”
Jennifer turned back to Dolores, who was making faces at her over Lee’s shoulder. Jennifer threw her a threatening look and shut the door.
Lee stood uncertainly, watching her. He was wearing a loosely woven cream knit top with wheat cord jeans of a slightly darker shade. He looked so vibrant, brimming with health, that he made Jennifer feel like an extreme case of vitamin deficiency. Nobody could be as fit as he seemed.
“Have a seat,” she said, and he did. She noticed again his impeccable manners—he waited to be invited before he sat.
She glanced at him inquiringly.
He extracted a folded sheet of paper from his pocket “I received this in the mail this morning,” he said, rising to hand it to her.
It was the schedule for the mall opening on Saturday.
“And?” Jennifer said.
“There are a couple of things I’d like to change, if I can.”
“Such as?”
“I’d like to drive myself there rather than go in the limousine. I feel like King Farouk pulling up in one of those hearses. I know where the place is, I’ll be there on time.”
“That’s not the issue,” Jennifer replied. “You are escorted for insurance reasons, as I’m sure you know. On company time, we like to take charge of your safety. Did they allow you to drive yourself when you were with the Broncos?”
He looked uncomfortable. “No, but…”
“You’ll find that we here at the Freedom are just as cautious and solicitous of your safety as your previous employers,” Jennifer said firmly.
He held up a hand. “All right, all right, I give up. I’ll ride in the limo. Do you supply bulletproof vests, too?”
“Are you expecting an assassination attempt?” Jennifer countered.
They eyed each other, evenly matched, stalemated. The silence in the room lengthened.