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“Group sex huh? I doubt our Steph would want to do something like that.” Zoe laughed, her cackle reminding Stephanie of a wicked witch.
“Erm, no.” Stephanie shook her head, a little embarrassed.
She would never do something like participate in an orgy. She wouldn’t want to share Justin with anyone else.
Ack, there she went, bringing up Justin again. She needed to get over him for good.
“I wrote an article about male sexual fantasies. Just like you asked for, Zoe.” Caleb crossed his arms in front of his chest, the knowing smirk on his face making Stephanie want to smack it off.
“Did you already turn it in?”
“Emailed it to you a couple of hours ago.” Caleb nodded.
“Good. I’ll get back to you soon and let you know what I think.” Zoe waved at Stephanie. “Come up with something else and I’ll definitely consider it Steph. I think you’re on the right track.”
Stephanie watched Zoe walk away, the giddiness that had been bubbling up within her just a few minutes ago now flat like day old champagne.
Damn it, Zoe wasn’t only giving her this column opportunity. It looked like she was giving Caleb the opportunity as well.
“I’m going to kick your ass you know.” The smug tone in Caleb’s voice made Stephanie shoot daggers at him with her eyes. “You’ve been too busy writing home and style articles for the past couple of years to pay attention to what’s really going on around in the social world.”
“A column focusing on what it’s like to be young, female and single in San Francisco is universal, Caleb. That’s the column I presented to Zoe. You just stole my idea and put a male spin on it.”
He shrugged though he didn’t deny it. The snake. He was always spying on her over their shared partition. She never understood why.
Now she did.
“Besides, I already have my article approved. It’ll be going in next week’s issue.” City Magazine was published weekly. “So I’m way ahead of you.”
“Yeah, your confidence may be way ahead of me but don’t count on your skills.” He leaned in close. Too bad he was such a jerk since Caleb was actually quite handsome in that blond, tanned beach god kind of way. “I’ll have my column in the bag in no time. And you’ll be left spinning your wheels.”
With that, he slapped the edge of the partition and walked away, all confident swagger and cocky bravado. It made Stephanie want to puke.
She stared blindly at her monitor, her brain working a million miles a minute. She needed to come up with something new, something different. Zoe wanted her to carry on the sexual fantasy stuff but with who? Not as if she could go find Justin again. She didn’t even know his last name and she had no idea what he did for a living. She was totally in the dark where her mystery lover was concerned.
“Here’s the latest issue.” The dude who worked in the mailroom tossed a copy of the magazine on top of her desk. He passed them around to all employees when it first came out.
Stephanie grabbed the magazine, glanced at the cover and immediately dropped it as if it was on fire.
There smiling up at her was her very own personal savior and resident sex god. The very man she’d just been thinking about. Wearing a San Francisco Miners baseball uniform, for God’s sake.
She stared at the photo, dumbfounded. He was a professional baseball player? He looked...amazing in that tight uniform. No wonder he had such quick reflexes.
He must’ve thought she was a complete idiot. She had no clue who he’d been.
The headline above his face in big bold letters fairly screamed the scandal. “The Demise of Baseball Great Justin Hawkins.”
Stephanie glanced around and then eagerly opened the magazine, turning right to the article. There was another photo of Justin, this time wearing a dark suit similar to the one she’d seen him in and he looked positively delicious.
So did the scrumptious, big breasted blond on his arm.
She shook her head in disbelief. What exactly had he seen in her anyway?
The article rattled on about Justin’s horrible injury in a motorcycle accident a few months ago that had essentially ruined his career. Now he stood on the sidelines for the rest of the season, coaching his team, helping them create plays and strategies but unable to actually play.
A team of doctors said he’d never be able to play the game again. After endless abuse on his body and the accident on top of everything else, he couldn’t endure any longer. He was a done deal in his professional baseball career.
Sadness engulfed her and she shut the magazine with a slap, feeling as if she’d just invaded his privacy. The article was unauthorized, they hadn’t gotten any direct quotes from Justin and the writer even mentioned his well-known hatred for the media. Justin was a very private person.
