“You were saying?” he replied casually.
The GM’s eyes narrowed and he said, “Ms. Kendall is in charge. Ms. Kendall, if you need anything, any time, contact me.”
“She’ll be busy, Cole. I’ll take good care of her,” he drawled, secretly enjoying the way the other man’s face twisted as if he’d smelled something particularly nasty.
Scott groaned quietly next to him, reminding him that this game didn’t only affect himself but the one person who trusted him and had had his back from day one.
“Sorry. I’ll do my best to follow your rules,” Jason said, trying to appear more choirboy and less fallen angel.
Cole sniffed, clearly unimpressed. Jason met his gaze firmly. The GM leaned in and spoke quietly. “Remember, Friar. I never wanted you here. I think you’re washed up and a train wreck just waiting for the end of the line. I can assure you, I won’t let you drag this team down with you into the gutter. Watch yourself because I’ll be watching you.”
Jason started to stand, but Scott’s hand on his arm restrained him. He settled back into his seat and settled for a dark glare. “Stay out of my way. I know my job; I don’t need you to tell me how to do it.”
The other man sniffed again and stalked out of the room, slamming the door for emphasis. Jason turned back to Stacia and Scott. “That was unpleasant. So, when do we begin?”
Stacia was still pale, a little shaky, probably in shock from his appearance. He didn’t intend to let her off the hook. She was his last tie to the old Jason Friar and he needed to be sure she would keep her mouth shut. Judging by the way she was gaping at him, keeping her quiet could be a much harder task than he had first thought.
Of course, then his second thought veered to the way he’d kept her mouth occupied last night in the hotel and he could feel his cock springing to life. Definitely not the right time or place for that!
“Scott, I think I got it from here. Why don’t you head out and I’ll listen to what Miss Kendall has to say then meet you for dinner, okay?”
Scott frowned, but Jason stood and ushered him out the door before anyone could speak. He shut the door with a firm snick and flipped the lock. The click echoed in the small office. He then slowly turned and studied Stacia, who was biting her lower lip, looking nervous and guilty and sexy all at once.
He sauntered over to the desk and propped a hip on the corner. “So, we have a fine mess here, don’t we?”
“Do we? I didn’t even know who you were last night. Were you the one who asked for me now?”
He shrugged. “If I had to be walked around on a little leash, at least I could enjoy the person holding the other end.”
She stood and poked a finger in his chest. “That’s not happening again.”
“Really? Then why is there a desk between us? Afraid to come close to me?”
She snorted. She walked around the desk to stand directly in front of him, her knees inches from his. “Absolutely not. We’re going to be working closely together. I have no problem with you. I’m just supposed to spruce up your image, make you more fan-friendly.”
“Honey, I’m already fan-friendly, as you well know.” The smell of her musk drifted toward him and he hardened. Another scent followed close behind. The scent of arousal.
Damn it. He didn’t need this complication. So much for controlling his reaction.
“Yes, well, it’s that type of friendly attitude that’s gotten you in this mess, isn’t it?” She pointed to the chairs across from her, but he wouldn’t budge. Sitting here made her nervous and he wasn’t about to let her regain control in this negotiation.
“I’m fine right here.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His grin only broadened. How far could he push her? He leaned forward, his breath tickling the strands of auburn hair that had escaped her French twist, and whispered, “So much for a one-night stand.”
She jumped like a virgin at a drive-in movie with the town bad boy. He was definitely the bad boy, but she was no virgin. She knew how good they were together and he was determined to remind her of it.
He straightened and slid over to one of the chairs. “I don’t need an image consultant.” He held up a hand to stop her sputtering. “However, it’s in my contract that the soul-sucking Hammonds and Callahan made me sign, so I have no choice. You can schedule press releases and do all the puff pieces you want. Tell them I dance with unicorns and puppies for all I care. Just don’t interfere with baseball.”
“So, you’re willing to do interviews and photo ops?”
He laughed. “Weren’t you listening? All of that interferes with baseball. I do interviews after the games and that’s it. I have a lot to catch up on with my new team and I don’t have time to save the world.”
“Weren’tyoulistening? Doing the same old thing is what got you here in the first place. We need to fix that perception so people will leave you alone.”
“I never had a problem when I was hitting three-forty and driving homers. I need a week or two to get my swing back and no one will remember anything but that.”
She eyed him dubiously. “I don’t think you understand how serious your problem is. I’m looking at your record right now. Bad press.” She slid her laptop out of her bag and booted it up. She typed his name into the search engine on her laptop then turned the screen to show him. “Look at this. Ten million responses and the top twenty? All negative. Selfish player, bad attitude, hates the fans, steroids, sex addict.”