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“Why are you talking like that?” I ask, and Jamal just swats the air behind him like he’s telling me to get lost.This is my house, asshole.
“I’m—”
“Jamal Mericks,” says Nora with a bright smile. “I know. And you guys are Nathan Donelson, Jayon Price, and Lawrence Hill.” She laughs and it sounds almost nervous. “I know it’s super unprofessional to say this, but I’m seriously starstruck right now. The Sharks are my favorite team. But of course, that’s off the record because it’s about as unprofessional as a clown in the courtroom to admit you have a favorite team as a sports agent.”
“Really?” I ask her with a frown.
“No, it’s true. Clowns don’t belong in courtrooms. Ask anyone.” Well, I fell right into that one. She grins playfully at me. “But yes—Ilove the Sharks.”
“Is that so?” says Jamal, extending his hand for her to shake and then guiding her toward the living room.
“You’re acting creepy,” I tell him.
He flips me off behind her back. “So…Derek’s new agent…”
“Mac,” she says with an easy smile.
“Nora,” I correct, just to piss her off. And also maybe because I hate hearing her go by a name I know she hates. I shouldn’t care. But I do. I don’t want my friends to call her by that name. It doesn’t even suit her.
She glares at me over her shoulder. “Mac is what I go by professionally.” She turns back toward the guys, who are all now settling in with her on the couch looking as excited as a bunch of babies at story time. “My full name is Nora Mackenzie. Call me whatever you like.”
“So everyone except Derek calls youMac?” Lawrence asks, sounding innocent, but I hear the unspoken fishing in his voice. He’strying to get some answers to why I was hiding her. Why she’s in my clothes. Why she’s here at night in my house. Even I can admit it looks incriminating. It looks like I’m having a fling with my agent.
Which I’m not and never will.
I step forward. “Guys, let her be. My agent has work to do.” I add extra inflection on the businessy term, so they’ll lay off.
“What work?” Price is normally the quiet one, but even he’s invested in this mystery.
Nora perks up and looks over her shoulder. “The pasta! Shoot. I bet it’s burning.” She stands up and jumps over the back of the couch, sprinting toward the kitchen. All the guys’ eyebrows fly up, and I get it. Nora is not like any of the other agents we’re used to.
Nathan has Nicole, who is the epitome of sharp professionalism. And the other guys’ agents are all stuck-up dudes that are so unmemorable I can’t hold their names in my head. But Nora has a realness about her that sort of grabs you by the collar and says you have no choice but to like her. I can’t tell if she just hasn’t been scarred yet by the industry or if she’s truly unapologetically herself. Either way, it makes me mad. I want to forget her once and for all—even as I know that’ll never be possible.
The second she’s out of view, the guys’ smiles drop, and they shoot accusing glares at me. We all whisper-argue at once. They want to know why I’m having her make me pasta and why she’s in my clothes and what the hell I’m not telling them. I remind them it’s none of their business and to get lost.
She turns the corner again and our whispers die. They flash beaming smiles at Nora. I scowl.
“Derek, by the way, I know you didn’t ask me to, but I found a better outfit for you to wear on your date tonight, so I laid it on the bed. It’ll go with your personality better than what you have on.” I don’t even want to look at the scowls the guys are sending me. “Oh, andthe pasta is ready. Hope you don’t mind; I stole a to-go container and took some for myself since I didn’t get to eat dinner. And I moved the pot to the back burner so it doesn’t get sticky which you don’t like—but the directions said if you wait too long to eat it, it will turn into cement. So, I’d get to cleaning my plate sooner rather than later.” Her kindness is grating on me. I’d much rather she give me the middle finger so I don’t feel like such a dick.
Her smile somehow widens and her hazel eyes glitter. “If you don’t need anything else from me, boss man, I’ll just be on my way! I’ll call you tomorrow about an endorsement opportunity you received earlier. Already working on the details because it’s a good one.” She does a weird pistolpew, pew, pewmotion and then walks to the door and toes into her shoes, careful to not agitate her bandaged foot.
I give it three seconds before—
“Mac!” Jamal yells, standing in indignant outrage. “I feel you should know that Derek is being a jackass for some unknown reason. I’m sure you’re already aware but none of us make any of our agents do any of this shit, and he shouldn’t be making you do it either. He doesn’t even have a date tonight!”
I swear, I will beat him as soon as that woman leaves.
I turn cautious eyes to Nora, hesitant to see the hurt look on her face. I don’t find it because she’s smiling. Ear to ear, blinding, pearly white smile over those pink lips I almost got a taste of earlier.
“Oh, I know,” she says cheerfully. “I may be a little unconventional, but I’m a damn good agent, and I plan on sticking it out until Derek gets over his temper tantrum and lets me prove it. When he’s ready, I’ll take his career to a height he didn’t know existed.” She winks and opens the front door. “ ’Night, boys. Enjoy the pasta for me, it was nice meeting you!”
The door shuts behind Nora, and the silence that follows swallowsme up. All of us stare at one another like we’re in a shootout in the Wild West. Who will pull the trigger first? Except, all at once, the guys spring from their seats and take off running for the stairs. When they make it to my room, I hear a crow of laughter.
I give up and follow them to my room, where I find the chicken suit that I wore for Halloween five years ago laid out on my bed. There’s a note beside it. “Wear this, you’ll look clucking irresistible,” with a little laughing smiley face drawn beside her corny joke.
Nathan—Dad—looks at me with disappointment in his eyes. “She’s incredible. And you didn’t even say thank you for making your dinner. You have five seconds to explain your ass, or we sic the wives on you.”
“It turns out,” I begin, every word a struggle to get out. “Mac, as Nicole referred to her when she presented the idea of her representing me, is…my college ex-girlfriend. And also…who the thing in my bedside table belongs to.”
