Chapter 8
To say that Jimmy Hall caught me off guard would be the understatement of the year. Listening to him open up about his family and his aspirations post-baseball had me looking at him in a different way. Don’t get me wrong, I still considered him a work friend, but damn if the man didn’t make my toes curl.
That was a thought I needed to expel out of my brain, except I wasn’t sure how to do it. After our dinner at his house, I went home and briefly considered calling one of my girlfriends, but the only one who would possibly have something relatively helpful to say would be Annie, and she had her hands full because her future in-laws were in town.
My plan was the usual ... to focus on work. It kept me grounded. Thanks to my erratic sleep, there had been no reason for my alarm. I was up and out of my house by six thirty a.m. I drove to my favorite coffee shop, grabbed a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso, and headed into the office.
Aside from me and the security guard, no one was in the office yet. As I stepped off the elevator, the usual hum of activity was absent, replaced by the echo of my footsteps on the polished hardwood floor.
The empty desks that were usually occupied by assistants were silent. Once eight o’clock rolled around, this space would be bustling with chatter, phones ringing, and the tapping of fingers on a keyboard. All sounds that I’d grown accustomed to over the years.
A large portrait of my granddad in a gold frame was at the end of the hall. I couldn’t help but smile at it. He had always been a driving force in my life. Something told me if anyone else asked me to run PR for Jimmy Hall, I would have put up more of a fight. But Granddad knew that I wouldn’t say no, especially when I had an end goal.
As I reached my office, the automatic light went on. I settled into my chair and powered up my computer. The screen flickered to life, and I dove into my morning routine, which started with my emails. Most got deleted, some were flagged as important, and when a new one came in, one that I’d set as an alert for Jimmy’s social media, my pulse began to race.
“Great, now what?”
I let out a long sigh, clicked the link, and all I could do was stare.
There he was, Jimmy Hall in all his glory. Well, not all, since he held his mitt over his unmentionables. When the hell had he posed for Scored Magazine?
Scoredoften featured up-and-coming players, all-stars, and those who had retired from their sport but still contributed to athletics in one way or another. It wasn’t a trashy periodical by any means, but twice a year, in the summer and the winter, depending on the sport, they’d spotlight either a male or female athlete to show their dedication. In this issue, Jimmy Hall happened to be front and center ... in more ways than one.
Thanks to my current role, I couldn’t just close the picture and not know what other photos were published or what the article said. After a quick pep talk (and silent prayer), I clicked on it. In an instant, it filled my screen. His defined muscles weren’t overly bulky, not that I had expected them to be. I’d seen pictures of him shirtless before, and I knew how his torso was sculpted to perfection. And between that six-pack and those damn hip muscles creating the perfect arrow to his leather baseball glove, there had been no surprise as to why women wanted to be with him.
Then, there were the arms that helped us win games. Even hanging low, I could see the cuts in his triceps, biceps, and whatever other ceps there were. His firm chest looked smooth except for a few strands of hair between his well-developed pecs. Even his nipples looked perfect.
I exhaled and forced down a swallow, then glanced at the mitt before rolling my eyes up to his face. Damn. Good-looking didn’t describe him. I don’t know what adjective would do him justice—although I’d never tell him that. His ocean-blue eyes seemed to be looking at me, like one of those pictures in the museum that would follow you if you moved. Then there was that smirk I’d seen on more than one occasion. The one that could irritate me and turn me on at the same time—not that I’d admit that to him.
Sitting back in my chair, I returned my attention to the mitt and stared. How could I not wonder what lay beyond the webbed brown leather? He had it pointing down as though it covered his ample length. On its own volition, my tongue swiped my suddenly dry lips. My brain went to a place I never wanted or expected it to go when it came to Jimmy Hall. Then, right when my little fantasy of what he’d feel like popped into my head, my phone dinged. Then dinged again. Then again.
Flipping it over, I looked at the screen. It was no surprise that my group chat with Annie, Lila, and Sarah had multiple text bubbles ready for me to read.
Sarah: Holy shit. What’s behind that mitt?
Sarah: Ha! I made a rhyme. But really ... he has to be hung.
Lila: Girl, that man is fine. I’ve never seen muscles like that.
Annie: Even I must admit the man is stunning. Don’t tell Rick, but holy hell Jimmy is perfect.
Sarah: Annie, you’re getting married. You’re not dead ... or blind.
God love my friends, but their texts weren’t helping. If they felt that way, then so did other women, and I wouldn’t discount men in that scenario either. My job just got a bit more difficult. No way would his social media not blow up.
Lila: Sommer are you OK? What does this mean for you?
Sarah: This means she’s the luckiest bitch in the world.
Me: How am I lucky?
I hit send before thinking that question through. And before I could delete it or take it back, Sarah replied.
Sarah: Because out of all the women that man could have, he wants you.
Me: You don’t know that.
Sarah: The hell I don’t.
I rolled my eyes and shut down the group chat for a bit.
Me: I need to get to work. I’m sure there are fires that I need to extinguish.
Lila: Me too. LOL
Sarah: Dammit, I should have bought batteries.
Annie: Sommer, if you need to talk to someone rational, I’m here for you.
Lila: Hey! I’m offended.
Sarah: I’m not. DO THAT MAN ALREADY!
Rather than continue, I called Annie. She was right. Out of our group of friends, she would be the most rational. Not that she didn’t agree with Sarah and Lila, because I knew she did, but Annie would understand better. Between the four of us, we were the ones who didn’t jump into things lightly.
“Hi, I thought you might call. How are you doing? Are his socials blowing up?”
“Hey, I’m fine. To be honest, I haven’t checked yet.”
“Have you spoken to Jimmy?”
“No, he will be my next call. There’s nothing wrong with posing for the magazine. It’s great press, but I just wish it didn’t come after the recent posts about him.”
“It is a great shot of him. Granted, a bit more clothing would have been better.”
“Something tells me it wouldn’t matter. Jimmy could be wearing a cloak, and he’d still look gorgeous. Women would wonder what lay beneath.”
“Kind of like that mitt?”
“Yeah, exactly like that. Look, I should go. I need to see what damage control I need to do.”
“Of course. Love you and have a good day. Oh, and don’t listen to Sarah.”
I laughed. “Okay, love you too.”
I tossed the phone onto my desk and dropped my head into my hands—so much for getting caught up on work. One thing I wanted to do was get a jump start on a few prospects for the Hawks to show Granddad that I was ready to move up, but instead, I grabbed the proverbial fire extinguisher and prepared myself to put out a potential fire once again ignited by Jimmy Hall.
What irked me more was not knowing about the feature in Scored. As his PR person, I should know everything, yet he never told me about it, nor had I asked. Another reason I didn’t want a full-time career in PR. It didn’t matter how good anyone was at their job. Something always fell through the cracks.
Although, when it came to Scored, I wouldn’t have prevented him from doing the shoot. As soon as I opened up one of his accounts, the notifications poured in. When I secured his account, I didn’t block business from tagging him. That post naturally got shared over and over again. When I looked at the original post from forty minutes ago, it already had over half of a million likes and thousands and thousands of comments.
The comments with the most hits sat at the top. And the one that caught my eye was from Tinsley13. According to her, she was at the shoot and surprised that the mitt covered everything. I rolled my eyes. Then, she went on to say that she knew firsthand that he held many talents.
Great. Here we go.
Other women commented how lucky Tinsley13 was, and others talked about their carnal knowledge of Jimmy’s talents and size. Some of which were a bit descriptive and had me squirming in my seat. Like any other rational person with an ounce of curiosity, I clicked on Tinsley13’s profile picture. It didn’t surprise me that she was beautiful. Dark-brown hair, contrasting blue eyes, and a body that looked as though she were a model.
A knock on my door pulled my attention away from the screen. Jimmy stood in the doorway with a white Styrofoam coffee cup in his hand.
“Good morning. I brought you coffee.” Jimmy walked in and set the cup down in front of me before sitting down.
“Thank you. Can I assume you’re here about the picture?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Sorry, I totally spaced. That picture was taken at the end of the season last year, and I totally forgot about it. Well, until my mother called me this morning.” Jimmy chuckled. “Some things never change. I’m sure when I’m fifty, she’ll still have things to say.”
I wouldn’t know since after my father passed away when I was younger, my mom couldn’t handle it. Which is why I was close with my granddad.
“You must admit, it’s a great shot.”
“Still humble, I see.”
Jimmy laughed again. “Why change? But in all seriousness, it’s okay, right? I hope this hasn’t made more work for you. Would it help if I said most people just read the article?”
“Who’s Tinsley?”
His brows drew together.
“She was at this shoot,” I prompted.
He sat silent before recollection dawned. “Oh, she was featured in the winter article. She’s a snowboarder from somewhere in Canada.”
“And of course you slept together.” When he didn’t say anything, I shook my head. “No need to go into details. I’m sorry I asked.” A bit frustrated, I tipped my head back and forth, cracking my neck. “Thank you for the coffee, but I have work to do.”
He nodded and stood. “I’m sorry, Sommer. I didn’t mean to cause you more work.”
“It’s fine.”
Jimmy walked toward the door. “For the record, I didn’t sleep with her. Aside from her imagination, she would have no knowledge about any part of me except for what you see in that picture. I barely spoke to her.”
I wasn’t sure why, but for some reason, that confession made me happy. Yet, at the same time, it made me angry on his behalf. “I’ll take care of her and the comments. You get to practice. We need more check marks in the win column.”
He nodded. “Will do. And thank you, Sommer.”
“You’re welcome.” Feeling a bit like a bitch, I added, “Hey, Jimmy?” He turned and looked at me. “I’m sorry for assuming you slept with her. It makes me no better than the people who post things they know nothing about. You don’t deserve that.”
A pretty smile spread across his face. “I appreciate that. Want to know something else?”
“Hmm?”
He looked around before stepping back into my office. “I don’t give a fuck what other people think. They don’t know me. I care what you think. One day, you’ll come around, and when you do, I’ll be waiting for you.”
With that, he walked out, and I sat there wondering how much truth was in his statement.