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I glance down at the frumpy sweatshirt I have on and the baby blue pajama pants with yellow ducks on them and laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ll have a problem there.”
Smacking me hard on the arm, she scalds, “Stop that! I hate when you get down on yourself.” Then she regains her composure. “Just let me finish, and then you can interrupt all you want. “You are beautiful, the kind of beauty you don’t even realize you have, and that beauty has power over men. Here’s my proposition. For the next week, I want you to dress as if you don’t own a closet full of designer clothes and shoes. We need to find you some mom jeans and loafers.”
I gasp, holding my hand over my mouth, my eyes open wide in mock surprise. “Mom jeans! How dare you?”
“Ha! Whatever, bitch, you’re wearing those mom jeans, and you’ll like them.”
We both laugh uncontrollably.
“I have a few pairs somewhere in my room,” I confess.
“Say it ain’t so.” She winks at me and continues, “I guess it won’t be too hard to find you an ugly sweater or two. What are you going to wear today?”
“Shit!” I hop off the couch, shaking Sydney in the process. “I almost forgot about the event. See what happens when you distract me.”
I walk away from her and into my bedroom and Sydney follows behind, making a beeline to my closet. One nice thing about the walk-in closet is the built in wooden shelves and cedar drawers for my sweaters, which is where she goes first.
She plops down on the carpet and digs through each drawer, handing me the few choices she finds before moving around hats and tees on my shelves.
I stand over her as she hums to herself and tears apart my closet. “These are all great, Syd, but I need something a little more professional to wear to the event today, and I don’t think to start this project when I need profe
ssional athletes to talk to me is going to help my paper.”
She stops what she’s doing and looks up at me, dumfounded. “You’re crazy! This is the perfect time to do it. Pro athletes are not like other men. They’re like gods among men, making them a perfect test case to start with. If you tried to this on Bob the IT guy, he will think you’re nerdy cute and be interested in you right away because he would see how much you guys have in common, but a guy like Dante West is looking for tits and ass. You can give him that just in a different package.”
“Dante will never want to do an interview with me if you have me dressed up like some old lady.”
“You won’t be complete road kill, babe. Just let me do my magic. Get in the shower. I’ll have everything ready for you by the time you’re all cleaned up.”
“Fine,” I grunt, “but you better be right about this. I cannot afford to ruin my career over our experiment.”
“Give men more credit. Not all men are shallow pigs.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, right. We’ll see about that.”
Once I’m inside the bathroom, I peek into the mirror, still not seeing what Sydney sees or even what Justin saw in me years ago. I guess it’s time to put this theory to the test. Nerds for the win!
Chapter Four
TYLER
I had fallen asleep after my shower, only to wake up right before the Philly Clean Skills Clinic because Donovan had called me to see if I was on the way. I should have been here an hour ago to discuss the specifics with Parker and Donovan, but after last night and a rough morning, I had trouble keeping my eyes open. So, I rolled off the bed, kissed Roxie, my German shepherd puppy, good-bye, and hopped into my car with a few minutes to spare.
I made it over the bridge from my house in Cherry Hill, New Jersey and into Philly in time and right before the congestion worsened with the Sixers playing at home today. We share the Wells Fargo Center with our pro basketball team, but with our practice facility located in Voorhees, New Jersey, and my family right next door, it made sense to buy a house there instead of Philly.
As I park out back of the Strickland University event center, I spot a woman with blonde hair waiting by the back entrance. She seems lost, staring into space and glancing up at the sky. I doubt she’s Kennedy Lockwood, the reporter I am meeting before the clinic. No way would she be this unfortunate in the looks department with a voice like that. She sounded like a phone sex operator with her sweet, sultry bedroom voice.
I turn off the ignition and step out of the car, and she turns in my direction as I shut the door and lock it. She raises a hand to her forehead to block the sunlight, pinning me down with one look. Then, she does something strange and waves to me.
I wave back, assuming she’s Kennedy, and stalk toward her. She closes the distance between us, her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail over her shoulder, bobbing against her breasts. Bouncing with each step, she stops and extends her hand to me.
“Hi, Tyler. I’m Kennedy Lockwood.” And there’s that sexy as fuck voice I heard on the phone.
I shake her hand and then shove my Flyers jersey up to stick my hands in my jean pockets. Alex Parker had insisted we all wear our jersey for the day, which made sense since we are attending a sports charity event to raise money for drug and alcohol addiction in the city.
Philly Clean is a local charity that all our sports teams support, and with my agent’s background, the charity means a lot more to her than just another fundraiser.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, appraising her odd choice in outfit. “You’re not what I was expecting.”
