“The first television segment will air in May. You'll enter Platinum, looking for a Mother's Day gift.”
“My mother passed away ten years ago.”
“It's television, Kason, not true life.”
“You're asking me to play someone I'm not?”
“It's acting, for all of thirty seconds.”
“I'm not an actor.”
“Be yourself, then.” She dismissed his concern. “Once inside the jewelry store, you'll check out the other shoppers. You'll notice a pretty woman looking at earrings. You stare long and hard until she looks up. Your eyes lock, sparks fly, and the shot ends.”
His lip curled. “Is this your idea of a joke?”
“Not, it's not a laughing matter.” She straightened her shoulders. “With each segment, the scenes get more and more intimate. By the fifth, the two of you will be engaged.”
“I don't do romance, rings, or weddings.”
“Not even for a hundred grand?”
“I don't need the money.”
“Give it to charity.”
“Get someone else.”
“Gayle de Milo's a good friend,” Revelle confessed. “If she wants you, I'll nag you to death.”
“Nag away, Miss Sullivan.”
Her lips pinched. “Are you always so uncooperative?”
“I gave you Fun Facts.”
“Give Platinum some thought,” she urged. “I don't need your answer today.”
“My answer will be the same tomorrow. Player promotions are optional. I opt out.”
“We'll meet again, Kason Rhodes.”
Not unless it is court ordered.
He nodded to Rhaden Dunn on his way out, then headed for the elevator.
The afternoon had worn on. It was time to move Dayne down the road. Kason didn't look forward to her departure. Yet he knew, deep down, he did alone best.
Five
Rhaden Dunn's eyes fixed on Revelle Sullivan the moment he entered her office. He was a big, strong jock, yet in this woman's presence, his chest tightened and his palms grew sweaty. The lady was so beautiful, she made him ache.
He'd unbuttoned women's blouses and hiked enough miniskirts to know the difference between a one-night stand and someone special. His days of instant gratification were long behind him. At thirty-four, he wanted to take a woman to bed and draw out the intimacy.
The second Revelle had been introduced as head of player promotions, he'd known she belonged to him. For life. She just didn't know it yet.
He admired her strength and sense of purpose. She brought intelligent conversation, occasional humor, and simple elegance to the organization. Her presentation to the Rogues had been straightforward and held his teammates' attention. No man had laughed or made a snide remark. They'd all listened and lined up for promotions.
Now she sat behind her desk with shoulders slumped and features pale. The diamond studs in her ears twinkled with a brilliance that usually characterized her as well. Yet she'd momentarily lost her sparkle.
He needed to fix whatever was wrong. “Did Rhodes upset you?” he forced out from the doorway. “You look beat.”
She cut him a glance as she cleaned her glasses on a soft cloth. “Ever gone a round with Kason?”
Rhaden nodded. “The man's intense.”
“A brick wall with eyes.”
“I gather he turned you down.”
She sighed. “A slam-bam, no thank you, ma'am.”
“The man's all baseball.”
“I'm all about promotion.” She took her job seriously. “I'll track down Kason after the home opener.”
“Maybe Guy should be present.”
She shook her head. “Game's On is my baby. There's no need to involve my uncle. I want Kason to take the Platinum Jewelry account willingly, not by ultimatum.”
“You'll wear Rhodes down,” he assured her.
“Maybe, maybe not. I'll give it my best shot. Promotions aren't mandatory. They're meant to give players visibility and pad their paychecks, though many donate the money to charity.”
She set aside her glasses, invited him in. “No need to stand with three chairs available. Have a seat, Rhaden.”
He preferred the door—a little distance kept him sane. Control of his body went south quickly with this woman. He had a hard-on barely hidden by the untucked tails on his white button-down. The slightest shift and she'd catch him stiff.
He jammed his hands deep in the pockets of his khakis, let his fingertips hold everything in place. His steps toward her desk were stiff and awkward. Not smooth for an athlete who could sprint around the bases and stretch like Gumby to catch a wild throw to first.
“Why'd you want to see me?” He managed to lower his body into a leather chair without embarrassing himself.
“Two reasons,” she stated. “First, to thank you for the beautiful bouquet.” Pleasure brought pink to her pale cheeks, which softened the sharp symmetry of her haircut and the black stiffness of her business suit. The blooms remained velvety and tight, and were the exact color of her violet eyes. “Each week is a celebration of color.”
“The team appreciates all you've done.”
“The flowers came from you.”
He shrugged, forced a casualness he didn't feel. “I'm grateful you connected me to Cora Dora Pies.”
“That's second on my list,” she said, moving on. “You've been a great spokesman for the family-owned company. Cora and Dora want to extend your promotional contract.”
“A unanimous decision?” he asked.
The seventy-year-old twins never agreed. The women were apple-cheeked, plump, and highly opinionated. They argued for the sake of argument.
Once, in their test kitchen, the ladies had fought over a secret ingredient. Cora had thrown salt, and Dora let loose with the flour. Rhaden had been the one powdered white.
The sisters were as crotchety as they were sweet. They kept their fingers on the pulse of their business. Every decision was monumental and demanded mutual consent.
“Cora and Dora both called, claiming you as their spokesman.” Her grin curved. “They plan to fatten you up.”
Rhaden massaged his abdomen. Over the last three months, he'd eaten a whole lot of pie.
Revelle caught his stomach pat.