Chapter 10 – Jordie
CHAPTER TEN
The cosmetics Casanova
Jordie
TWENTY MINUTES EARLIER
As I enter the blue-mirrored building, I huff out my relief that I made it on time.
I made an attempt with my makeup this morning since I have a meeting with the cosmetics company.
Well, a minimal attempt that included tinted lip balm, a swipe of peach blush, and some mascara.
The problem came when I blinked and the mascara left little black spots above and below my eyes.
Stupid long lashes. It had taken me ten extra minutes to clean it all up and make myself halfway presentable.
Then I’d made my way to the Hale Cosmetics offices and encountered traffic.
Because of course I had. This was Houston, after all.
I moved here right after graduation a couple weeks ago and still wasn’t accustomed to all this congestion.
Sure, I went to college in Dallas, which is a huge city, but everything seems more crowded here.
Glancing down, I ensure my blouse is secure. The damn button over my boobs keeps popping open. I’m not exactly well-endowed in the chest department, but this stupid shirt fits me like a glove.
I’d stressed over my attire for thirty minutes last night and finally ended up FaceTiming my sister for advice.
For my previous meetings with companies, I had worn a Dragons T-shirt and track pants, but they were all sports-related companies, so my attire didn’t matter that much.
But now? Now I’m at Hale Cosmetics, and I felt like I needed to level up a bit.
After all, this place is the definition of high end.
The lobby is decorated in cool white and shiny silver with a modern-looking chandelier hanging overhead. The damn thing is so big it could crush an entire football team if it fell.
When I look around, I think maybe death by lighting fixture wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I don’t belong here.
“Ma’am, if you’ll step this way, please,” a gentle voice says. I’m startled when I look up to find a bear of a security guard gesturing me forward. His voice definitely doesn’t match his gruff appearance. Then he smiles, recognition sparking in his hazel eyes. “Hey, you’re Jordie McNamara.”
I’m still getting used to people recognizing me. I’d had media attention due to playing college ball, of course, but since I’m now a professional athlete, that’s gone up a hundredfold.
“I am. Nice to meet you…” I glance down at his nametag and try not to giggle. “Bear Collins.”
He grins through his bushy beard. “Dad named me after the legendary Bear Bryant. Of course his full name was—”
“Paul William Bryant,” I fill in. “Best known for coaching at Bama, though he was also the head coach at A&M, Maryland, and Kentucky.”
The security guard laughs, a booming sound that should shake the rafters but instead feels warm and soothing. “A lady who knows her football. Shoulda known.”
“I’ve been a student of the game since I was little. While other girls were asking for Barbies, I begged for books on the history of football and the latest Madden NFL video game.”
The big man smiles. “My daughter is the same. She’s trying out for her varsity team this year. You’ve really inspired a lot of young ladies, Miss McNamara.”
I’m touched beyond belief at his words. “Thank you for saying that, and please call me Jordie.”
He scrubs a hand along the back of his thick neck. “Would you mind giving me an autograph, Jordie? For my daughter,” he adds quickly.
I feel simultaneously elated and embarrassed as I sign a page in the small notebook Bear had in his shirt pocket. I’m still flabbergasted that anyone would want my autograph.
Holding it up, he smiles. “Thanks, Jordie. Stephanie will be so excited. We’ll be at all your home games this year.”
“Really?” I ask, eyes wide.
“Yep. The Hales bought season tickets for all the employees. One of the ladies in finance didn’t want hers, so she gave it to me for Steph.”
Wow. Carly told me this is a great, employee-friendly company, but that’s really nice.
After he does a quick search of my bag and I pass through the metal detector, Bear directs me toward a bank of elevators across the lobby. The doors are mirrored, and I survey my reflection as I wait for the telltale ding. You look fine, I tell myself, checking the button on my shirt once again.
When I enter, I’m met with more mirrors inside. What is this? Vanity Central? I punch the button for the top floor, but it stops on the second, letting two women into the car.
They’re both breathtaking. The brunette has flawless mocha skin and hazel eyes. She’s tall but still a couple inches shorter than me, and she runs her gaze up and down my body.
“You a model too?” she asks appraisingly, and I try not to squirm.
“Uh, no. I’m just here for a meeting.”
The woman lifts a thinly waxed eyebrow. “You should be. You’re gorgeous and so tall. You could totally do runway work.”
The other woman, a stunning redhead, makes a tsking noise. “I could never do runway. You have to be at least five-ten.”
The brunette tosses her long hair over one shoulder as the elevator stops on another floor. Two men enter, and she assesses them before turning to admire her perfect makeup in one of the mirrored walls.
“I’ve done a little—I did Fashion Week in New York last year—but I like print work better. A lot less hectic.”
The redhead eyes the button panel before looking back at me. “You’re going to the top floor? That’s executives only.”
“I have a meeting with Mr. Hale,” I say, and now both of them are looking at me with interest. The elevator halts again, and the two men step off.
“With the dad or the son?” Red asks almost reverently.
Well, crap. I don’t exactly know. I’ve been too worried about what to wear and my makeup and whether I even wanted to do this thing at all.
“His name is Phoenix Hale,” I say, and both women’s eyes glitter.
“Oh, that’s the son,” the brunette informs me with a knowing nod.
The redhead’s voice drops to something uncomfortably sultry. “But I’d call him Daddy.”
The other woman snorts. “Hell yeah. That man is hotter than a pot of five-alarm chili. Have you slept with him?”
She twirls a finger around one fiery lock. “Not yet, but I will.”
Holy shit. These women are bold.
Once again, the elevator stops, and both women shift toward the doors, the brunette tossing a wink over her shoulder on the way out. “Good luck with Phoenix. Good call leaving your shirt unbuttoned. He’ll love that.”
“Shit,” I mutter, fixing the button as the car rises swiftly to the top floor. I exit into a high-ceilinged lobby that’s decorated in white and silver, much like the one on the first floor. Clean lines dominate, and everything looks so… smooth and slick.
“Hi, welcome. You must be Miss McNamara,” a woman says pleasantly, from where she stands behind a chrome reception desk.
“I’m Jordie,” I confirm.
“Fabulous. So great to have you here. Just go down the hallway to your left.”
I thank her and head that way, my shoulders relaxing a little.
She seems friendly. In fact, everyone has been nice so far, and even the models from the elevator were okay.
As I near the middle of the hallway, the white walls gradually darken until I’m standing in a waiting room with gray walls and carpet.
It’s a wide-open space with tall windows that reveal the surrounding buildings of downtown Houston.
The furnishings consist of a black desk and round, hot-pink chairs. More colors pop from framed posters of Hale beauty products on the walls, and I recognize the two women from the elevator on a couple of them. The vibe is sleek and fun.
A woman greets me instantly, a lovely smile on her face, which is framed by gray and purple curls.
“Miss McNamara, I’m Charlotte, Mr. Hale’s administrative assistant.
He’s in a meeting right now but will be with you shortly.
Can I get you a coffee or something else while you wait?
We have a fully stocked fridge and a barista on this floor, so she can make anything you want. ”
They have a barista just for this floor? Geez Louise.
“Maybe an iced mocha?”
“Of course.” She lowers her voice and leans toward me. “She makes an excellent hazelnut pistachio iced mocha if you’re feeling frisky.”
I laugh. “Frisky it is. That sounds great.”
“Back in a jif. Make yourself comfortable. There are iPads on the side tables with games you can play while you wait.” When my eyebrows lift in surprise, Charlotte’s lips twist to the side.
“I know, so bougie, right? I remember when my only waiting room entertainment was flipping through an outdated Reader’s Digest.”
“Loved that magazine as a kid. The jokes were my favorite,” I admit.
“Mine too,” she agrees as she strides from the room.
Charlotte returns shortly with my coffee, and I take a sip. The nutty flavor explodes on my tongue, and I let out a little groan. “Oh my god, that is divine.”
She flashes me an I told you so smirk and returns to her desk while I settle on a hot-pink padded chair that’s just as comfortable as it looks.
After a few minutes waiting, I begin to get antsy, so I snag one of the tablets from a shiny black table and scroll through the selection.
Deciding on one of the mindless color block games, I waste a good ten minutes while Charlotte fields what seems like a hundred calls.
“Uh-huh. I understand, Mr. Willis… Yes, of course, but there are only so many hours in a day, and Mr. Hale is a very busy man… I can squeeze you in for an afternoon appointment in August… That won’t work for you?
Fine. Then it will be February of next year…
Oh, you’ll take the August appointment after all?
Great. Got you down, sir. Such a pleasure to speak with you, as always. ”