Hot Number
By Carly PhillipsThorndike Press
Copyright © 2006 Carly Phillips
All right reserved.ISBN: 9780786286027
Chapter One
PUBLICIST MICKI JORDAN strode into the locker room of the New York Renegades, the sports world's best prospects to win the World Series, and looked for her client. In her hand, she held a copy of today's New York Post, which she'd folded open to the headline Nails, Nails, Nails. Will John Roper's Manicure Interfere with his Willingness to Catch Fly Balls?
Most days she loved her job as the publicist for the Hot Zone, an offshoot of her uncle's sports agency that she copartnered with her sisters. And then there were days like these when she wondered why she always ended up handling the more high-maintenance players instead of turning them over to one of her sisters. Even if this high-maintenance player had ended up being her best guy friend.
Micki already knew the reason Annie and Sophie delegated the tougher athletes to her. You're like one of the guys, Micki, and they respect you for it. She shook her head in frustration that had been building for a while, but she'd have to worry about her own image later. Right now she was worried about her client's.
"Hey, Micki," one of the players called as she passed the first row of half-naked men and their open lockers.
She waved and kept walking, keeping her gaze straight ahead. When people asked how Micki could be so at ease around a men's locker room, she always countered with how could she not be comfortable since it was the atmosphere in which she'd grown up?
Micki had been eight, Annabelle twelve and Sophie ten when their parents had passed away. From then on, their uncle had provided them with the only stability they'd known. As the oldest, Annabelle had taken over as the mother figure and mediator whenever Micki and Sophie bickered, which had been often.
In an effort to keep their small family together, Annabelle had kept them both in line and attended to everyone's needs, often at the expense of her own. As a result, Annie had been close with both of her siblings but Micki and Sophie's relationship had always been more distant.
While Annabelle and Sophie had been girlie girls, Micki had latched onto Uncle Yank, tailing after him everywhere he went. Locker rooms included. Growing up with her sisters, Micki had been the odd girl out, a pattern that had continued in school, where she found herself trying to keep up with the boys, playing sports and challenging them with her knowledge of all games. In fact her comfort level never faltered with the opposite sex - as long as dating wasn't involved. Then Micki became out of her element all over again.
"Hi, Mick," Juan Sierra said, flicking her playfully with a towel and reminding her of her mission to find her client.
"Where's Roper?" she asked him.
"Holding court at his locker." Ricky Carter, the backup center fielder jerked a finger toward the back of the room, answering a question she hadn't directed his way.
Micki and Carter had never been formally introduced but she'd heard plenty about his cocky personality. She'd also caught wind of his certainty that he'd replace Damian Fuller by the end of the season. Micki held back a snort. She'd pay good money to see Ricky Carter try to take on the team captain and come out whole. If Carter was lucky, he'd only be knocked down a few pegs. If he pushed too hard, he'd probably end up back in Triple-A.
That's how much his teammates respected Damian Fuller. That's how much his fans loved him, as did most women, Micki thought wryly. Herself included.
Especially since their New Year's Eve kiss six months ago. She closed her eyes and could almost feel the star center fielder's lips on hers. It had begun as Micki's attempt to take him outside and sober him up before he made a scene destined to hit the papers. And it had ended up a kiss that had shaken her world and shown her what she was missing in her all-work, noplay life. Unfortunately, he'd either been too drunk to remember Micki's magic moment, or the kiss had meant so little to him he'd put it out of his mind. Worse, maybe he wanted to forget.
And why wouldn't he? The man was only seen with gorgeous women. The models, actresses, and even Playboy bunnies he dated were all well-endowed arm candy. All unlike every guy's pal, Micki Jordan. And so she'd been tiptoeing around the secret kiss and its effect on her ever since. Because that kiss had shifted Micki's perception of her world and forced her to face the unfulfilled feeling she had about her life.
Even Uncle Yank sensed she'd grown more edgy and restless lately and had begun to ask why. She didn't want to hurt him and so she refused to admit the truth. That Damian Fuller was the one man who made her wish she'd spent less time with her uncle and his friends and more time with her sisters as they'd locked themselves in the bathroom, laughing, giggling, putting on makeup and talking about boys.
Hanging out with Uncle Yank hadn't prepped Micki for flirting with men nor had it taught her how to be one of those females who automatically caught a man's attention in the ways that counted. Damian was drawn to overtly feminine women and his reaction to Micki, or lack thereof, reduced her to feeling worse than an awkward teenager.
She tried to hide her frustration with herself and her lack of feminine abilities, and as long as she didn't deal directly with Damian face-to-face, she'd be successful. It helped that the Renegades players were generally Annabelle's clients and Micki could avoid the sexy center fielder.
Leave it to John Roper to misbehave and put her directly in temptation's path. So far though, she hadn't seen any signs of Damian and since she hadn't tripped or fallen over a bench, Micki figured he wasn't anywhere around.
Continues...
Excerpted from Hot Numberby Carly Phillips Copyright © 2006 by Carly Phillips. Excerpted by permission.
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