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Twenty-Three
Now that the other bedroom in her apartment housed a crib and a changing table, and Pen had let her office go, she’d taken to working from the sofa. She spread her planner, cell phone and laptop on the coffee table: command central. It was perfect, really, since she was only a few yards away from the coffeepot she couldn’t wait to utilize again, and the bathroom.
Okay, so it wasn’t perfect.
She missed her office. She needed a designated space. Once her daughter was born, she’d be home fulltime—Pen had almost convinced herself that working from home was the best-case scenario.
Until she went mad from being housebound. Then she’d have to...she didn’t know what.
At least she’d landed a new account on Monday. Bridget Baxter, a chirpy, adorable blonde had requested Pen meet her for coffee. Bridget had been referred by Serena, and had a little PR problem of her own. Pen learned that Bridget, who co-managed the Dallas Cowboys, had had a one-night stand with one of the players. She was worried he’d ruin her reputation with the team, and she didn’t want to lose her high-up position. Bridget explained she’d worked hard to prove she was qualified.
Pen could so relate to having her reputation ruined by a man. She could also understand how Bridget had blindly followed her heart and had wound up at a destination she hadn’t foreseen. Pen didn’t hesitate accepting the job.
A job that smacked of her recently annihilated relationship, but also gave her something better to focus on than attempting to heal her heart, which had a million tiny lacerations.
Or maybe she was being dramatic.
The reminder for Bridget’s appointment popped up on the laptop screen. Pen needed to leave soon if she expected to arrive at the stadium on time.
She’d given a lot of thought to Bridget’s situation. How to best utilize the media, if at all. The more she turned it over, the angrier she became. Why was it up to Bridget to save her job? The guy she slept with certainly wasn’t in danger of being ousted from the team because he slept with an executive.
It was all so unfair.
Lifewas unfair.
The team was practicing today, which was why Bridget wanted to meet there. That was where her former beau would be, and she wanted to pull him in on the conversation if needed.
After winding around a bunch of corridors and walking into the wrong office, Pen stopped a coach-looking guy wearing a cap and holding a clipboard, and asked for her client.
“Bridget Baxter?” he repeated, regarding Pen like she’d sprouted a horn.
“We have an appointment.”
“She’s practicing on the field.” He shook his head. “You can follow me if you want.”
She followed, her head held high. If Bridget was getting this much disrespect from the coach, Pen could imagine the uphill climb she’d have if everyone found out Bridget had slept with a guy on the team.
Determination propelled her steps out into the sticky weather where teammates and cheerleaders dotted the field.
This kind of unfairness wouldn’t stand. Pen would make sure Bridget saw justice. She scanned the crowd for the tiny blonde. Ho boy. There were a sea of blondes in cheerleader uniforms and not a single pencil skirt in the mix.
Then one of the blondes separated from the crowd and shot Pen a wide grin.
Bridget.
Wearing a cheerleader uniform.
What?
“She’s here!” Bridget shouted. In a blur of blue and silver, the cheerleaders formed a line on the field. The guys didn’t stop practice, but a few of them looked at her and smiled.
Bridget bopped over to stand in front of Pen. “Sorry for the subversion. It was his plan. But I did have fun playing a corporate mogul.” With a wink and a buoyant giggle, Bridget ran back to her girls.
“Whose plan?” Pen asked, confused.
“Give me a Z!” Bridget called out, and the cheerleaders echoed with, “Z!” What followed was an A, a C, and an H.
With each letter, Pen felt her knees weaken.
