“I’ve never even had a celebrity crush, let alone slept with one!” I laugh with Lilla as I look at her through the hotel bathroom mirror while I fiddle with my hair. “And I’m not about to start now. So the answer to your request is yes. You’re more than welcome to spend the night chatting up the players, and I’ll deal with the staff.”

“You are the bestest!” Lilla grabs me in a big hug. “You always sacrifice your own happiness for others, Jase.”

“I’m telling you it’s not a sacrifice. But I’m glad I can help you out. You’ll be much better with the players than me anyway.” I flip on the hair dryer and attempt to bring some order to my normally-straight blond hair, which seems to have developed a mind of her own in the desert.

“Jasalie! Let’s go. The whole team’s probably downstairs already, and Bill’s going to kill us if we’re late.” Lilla grabs the still-running hair dryer out of my hand and turns it off.

I pull my hair back into a bun and secure it tightly with pins. Then I walk into the bedroom, make a fist and smash my just-completed clay sculpture of absolutely nothing important back to a formless blob.

“Why’d you ruin it?” Lilla asks me. “I liked it!”

“Because it sucks.” I used to enjoy sculpting, but lately, it feels more like trying to sing with no tune.

“Jasalie, I really think you need to work on your career issues.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

Mindy, my most recent therapist, recommended I try journaling letters to my abandoning mother. I promised her I’d try once I got to Arizona, but now that I’m here, I’ve been avoiding it. Instead, I’ve been spending all my free time wondering how to help my mother out of her financial jam.Lilla’s rambling drags me out of my head. “I’m just saying, you think your sculpture sucks because you’ve made sculpting into work.”

I stare at her. “What do you mean?”

“Ever since you’ve started trying to sell your stuff, all you’ve done is complain about your sculptures,” she says.

I can’t believe it, but Lilla’s spot-on. Not that I want to admit that. I wash my hands to get the clay off and pick up my purse. “Okay, I’m all set. You ready?”

Lilla grabs my free hand with both of hers. “We’re going to see Mr. Dylan Wild again! I never got to introduce myself last week. I know meeting Dylan is old news for you, but…” She collapses into giggles.

I smile at her teasing, but inside, I’m cringing. “Please don’t remind me. I made such an ass of myself. But it’s fine. I’ve moved on.”

Hopefully, by the time we get downstairs, that declaration will actually be true.

“Oh, Jasalie, where’s your passion?” Lilla asks me. “Not just for sex but for life? Where’d it go? Did you even know what an important cultural figure hit on you? Probably not—you never read magazines, and you seem like the type who hardly turns on the news.”

Of course I know who Dylan Wild is. The California Cougars are the hottest team in America right now. They’re the newly-crowned kings of the sporting world. And being their quarterback, Dylan Wild is the hottest guy—in every way—in the league.

I clear my throat and brush past Lilla to open the hotel room door for us.

“Like I said, I’m not interested in sleeping with a player.” I let Lilla walk out ahead of me. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Okay, but you’re sure you reviewed all the names and faces from the Cougars media guide?” she says as we walk down the hallway.“Of course. It’s business. I always take my work seriously. But remember,” I warn her. “A lot of the players have significant others. So don’t just start randomly hitting on anyone with a penis. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you never know with these athletes. Usually, they’ll sleep with anyone.”

“Sounds like a dream come true,” I say sarcastically.

“Shut up.” She swats at my arm with her purse.

Lilla’s too young and naïve to be suspicious of love. She still thinks it’s fun and exciting. And part of me wants to feel that way, too.

We reach the elevator bank, and I press the down button.

“Plus,” she adds. “I checked the Apex employee guidebook, and as long as they’re not contract clients, I can sleep with any of the players I choose. So if Dylan Wild and I end up falling in love and start a relationship—”

She giggles, but my stomach lurches for some unknown reason. I almost feel…

Jesus Christ. I’m freaking jealous.

“I heard Dylan Wild has a girlfriend,” I announce.

“How can you be sure? Those gossip magazines are always wrong,” she argues.

“Lilla, he was just on Hollywood Now! with her. Even I saw it.”

“Well, maybe it’s not serious. Jase, do you think my hair looks okay?” she asks me nervously, looking at herself in the wall mirrors.

“Your hair always looks gorgeous. That’s why I told you to go easy on the hairspray. You don’t need it.” Lilla’s red hair is so shellacked with spray it’s hard to imagine it ever moving again.

“What about my dress?” she asks next.“The dress is adorable, but I don’t know if it’s appropriate for a work function. That’s why I suggested you wear your navy skirt remember?”

I probably worried for nothing. Bill is no ordinary boss. He’s too much of a sexist pig to care about what’s appropriate.

“You were right to suggest that skirt, but I wouldn’t have had any fun wearing it! So, I took the risky route. You look nice too, Jasalie,” Lilla says, but she averts her eyes when she says it.

I’m wearing black dress pants and a pink blouse that’s too informal for a business function, and I know it’s not my best look. But the cream blouse I had picked out fell into the sink while I was in the shower, and I panicked and threw on this top. At least my black pumps only add an inch to my giraffe-like height.

“Bill will probably try to flirt with you on sight,” Lilla says as we step into the waiting elevator and press the lobby button.

“I think my last dismissal of him may have finally done the trick,” I say without much conviction.

Bill is definitely a crappy boss, but if I can get promoted, that means a new supervisor, more money, and more security.

As the elevator reaches its destination, the doors open wide. Lilla grabs my arm and practically pulls me out of the elevator and into the lobby bar. “Oooh, look at all that testosterone!”

Anyone could spot the testosterone—it’s freaking everywhere. In fact, Lilla and I are the only women here. Tonight is a team-only function, and according to Bill, wives and girlfriends don’t arrive until tomorrow. I pause just inside the doorway and stare at all of the huge men walking around with hors d'oeuvres in one hand and a beer or mixed drink in the other.“The food seems to have been delivered properly,” I say.

“Yeah, thank God,” said Lilla. “Bill might have had my head on that one. You know how he is.”

“Ladies, how are you?” Bill comes up behind us and puts a hand on my shoulder.

I wrestle myself free and turn to greet him with my feigned politeness but really saying “keep your distance” smile.

“Hi, Bill. How’s it going here?” I say.

Bill’s stylish gray hair is perfectly manicured, his always-shifty eyes are bright, and he’s sporting yet another pair of brand-new shiny black shoes, which look like they couldn’t stand to have a speck of dirt on them.

“Great.” He gives me the once-over and whistles. “Still don’t understand why you never tried modeling. Could have made a killing with those legs.”

“Because my legs are here to get me from point A to point B,” I say. “Not to give anyone a peep show.”

“Modeling is not porn,” Bill says in a stern voice.

“Well, I’m nobody’s pretty face. Or pretty legs,” I add as Bill smirks.

“I’m just saying you could play up your sex appeal with Hal Cotton, the Cougars’ owner. We need the account, and he wants to sign us. Sometimes it just takes a little push.”

I glare at him. “We need an account. We should never need this one if landing the account means me using anything other than my brain.”

“I just meant it could be a mutual good thing. A win-win.”

“I don’t think owners like win-win situations. They prefer win.” I turn back to Lilla, but she’s no longer next to me. I scan the room and spot her talking to…shit. She’s already found Dylan Wild. His back is to me, but that just gives me a better view of his ass, which is…really hot. Not to mention his broad shoulders, which fill out his dress shirt perfectly. His jet black hair is short but styled, and he raises his hand at something Lilla said. The gesture causes her to bend over in convulsive giggles.

I wonder how long before she pulls out a condom and propositions him. Thank God we have separate hotel rooms.

“You seem especially testy this trip, Ms. Gordon,” Bill says.

I force my attention back to him.

“Is it the breakup you had recently?”

“I’m fine. The breakup will not affect my job performance I can assure you.”

“Is everything else all right?”

I exhale. “If you must know, I’m from Arizona. Tucson, in fact. And things didn’t work out so well for me in the parents’ department. So I didn’t ever plan to come back here.”

“Well, happy homecoming,” he growls. “Get your mind in the game. Because we need this account, you hear me? And I won’t have my top assistant screwing it up. Or else you can forget about that promotion I know you want so badly.”

My hands go ice cold.

He wouldn’t. Would he? Of course he would. It’s Bill, the man we call Mr. No-Heart.

“Let’s go, and I’ll introduce you around.” Bill beckons me to follow him.

I smile faintly and give him the thumbs-up as I trail along behind.He goes straight for Lilla and Dylan. I stay slightly behind Bill with my eyes trained on the carpet. If Dylan Wild thinks he’s going to get another flailing female fan out of me, then he’s sorely mistaken.

Bill’s already talking to him. I can hear a buzzing over my head as I concentrate on the floor in front of me.

“So anything we can do to help you out, sir. Just ask. And this is my other assistant, Jasalie Gordon.”

I get my face ready—smile in place and jaw relaxed—and with my right hand extended for the requisite handshake, I step around Bill and look up.

My eyes lock with Dylan Wild’s.

And I freeze

Dylan’s face breaks into a surprised smile, all the way up to his dark eyes, which crinkle at the corners.

My breath catches, and I smile without planning on it. He’s still gorgeous. The TV seriously mattes his features. And he smells so fucking good—manly and natural with a hint of musk.

“Hey, Jasalie. It’s nice to put a name to the face.” His eyes are warm as he takes my hand.

“Hi, Mr. Wild.” I struggle to ignore the softness of his palm but the firmness of his grip.

“Nice to officially meet you.” His smile widens.

“Same here.” I grin at him like a fool before tearing my gaze off of him to glance over at Lilla who’s staring at me open-mouthed.

I turn back to Dylan as he says, almost like he’s checking to make sure I remember, “We met briefly last week.”

“Yes. Thank you,” I say like an idiot. And once again, I do the mature thing. I mumble an, “excuse me,” and walk away before I become even more frozen to the spot.

As soon as I get to the bar, I order up a vodka and cranberry while I lean my ever-sinking weight against the counter. He took my breath away. I can’t fucking believe this. Dylan Wild actually took my breath away.“Jasalie!” Lilla throws her arm around me and scoots up next to me at the bar. “Oh, my God! Is Dylan Wild like in love with you or what?”

“Lilla, don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t even know me.” I take my drink and begin walking—to where I don’t know, but I feel the need to keep moving.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” Lilla trails along behind me as I dodge past body after body of hard muscle and make my way to the window. “Jasalie! Are you listening to me?”

“Uh-huh.” I look out at the mountains. They’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful. At this hour, with the sun setting, there’s a red hue around them. They make me feel lonely, though. But I’m always lonely. I always have a yearning in my chest. But I feel it more intensely right now that I’m back here in Tucson again for the first time. Maybe it’s the vodka.

I put the drink down on the windowsill and turn to face the still-yammering Lilla.

“I mean I read Dylan liked brunettes, and you’re a blonde—a natural blonde even, which is very rare, especially these days—and I thought he liked blue eyes and yours are gray. Stormy gray if you’re counting, which, no offense, but I’m not; plus, his current flame is petite, no more than five feet two. I mean she’s an actress, so what’s the surprise there right—they’re all tiny bugs, but here you are at six feet tall! I mean what…”

“Lilla!” I take a deep breath. “Please. Thank you for the information. I just need a minute to…”

Lilla stares at me. “Collect yourself?”

“Yes. Exactly.” I give her a gentle push. “Like we decided earlier, I’ll take care of the schmoozing with all the personnel staff. In fact, I’ll go introduce myself to the owner right now. You can talk to the players.”

“I don’t know, Jase. I don’t want to stand in the way of true love,” she says. “But if you’re sure you don’t want the players…”“I don’t,” I manage to get out. “Go. Have fun."

Once Lilla’s gone, I take another sip of my drink. Then another. Then one more for good measure. So much for that freaking men’s deodorant Lilla and I had to get from the hotel because we both left ours at home. It didn’t do shit. I pull at my shirt to try to subtly air dry my armpits, and set off with my most-professional, most polite, most fake-friendly smile in order to chat it up with the Cougars’ owner.

Twenty minutes later, and I still can’t focus on my job.

Maybe a fresh drink will help.

As soon as I get to the bar, I freeze. Dylan’s leaning casually against the far end of the bar with one hand around a beer and the other in his pocket. I’m positioned behind a pole, so there’s no way he can see me. And for just a moment, I relax and allow myself to ogle him. His strong jawline, arm muscles that stretch out his shirt, and confident nature cause my heart rate to go into overdrive. He’s laughing hard at something Colton Wild is saying. Now that I’ve learned more about the team, I know that Colton and Dylan are cousins. It must be amazing to have family around you in such an overwhelming profession. Dante Robinson, the wide receiver, is grinning too, and they all look like they’re having the time of their lives.

I turn away to order my second vodka and cranberry. At this rate, I’ll be wasted within the hour. I tip the bartender, grab my drink, and walk away in the opposite direction.“Do you think he’s like a general in a real army?”

I jump at the whispered question coming from behind me. “Lilla, where did you come from? And what are you talking about?”

“Football’s the closest thing to sanctioned war we have,” Lilla says. “And the quarterback’s the general. He calls all the shots, my dear.”

“Okay, you need to seriously calm down.”

“Distraction won’t help you this time!” she calls out too loudly.

I wave and head over to a large group of old, white-haired men in suits to snuggle up to.