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“I’ll come with you. Getting coffee,” said Annie.
Jack stood, pocketing his cell. Annie led off. Jack stepped around Derelie and she turned toward him, still stupid enough to expect he’d acknowledge her. All she got was the sound of him answering his cell, “Haley,” and a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Now that was brutal. And I’m a single guy who writes for the sports pages—if I can see that was brutal, I’m not sure how you’re still standing.”
Derelie looked up past the chinos and untucked polo shirt into the craggy face of Dante Spinoza. “Jack,” she said, because she was still part Muppet and was having trouble talking and moving at the same time. He’d never exactly been warm and forthcoming, but he hadn’t treated her like dirt either.
“Being an asshole. Classic. I could give a play by play of that and it would still be brutal.”
“Is he always that way?”
“No, that was something new. Did he get you pregnant or something?”
“What?” Total Muppet flail.
Spin made a quiet down gesture with both hands. “Joking. Bad joke. Really bad. I’m sorry about that. You’re Derelie, rhymes with happily.”
“Merrily,” she muttered.
“Jack’s supposed to do some story with you for the online edition, right?” She nodded. Spin rubbed his jaw, which sported ample stubble. “Find a way to do it without him.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t know, but that was cold. That was Jack giving it to you old school. He’s not going to come around. He has bigger fish to fry and he’s top dog around here. You can’t win this one.”
“Cliché.”
“What?”
“Bigger fish. Top dog.”
“Sports, remember? We’re all about the cliché.”
“I don’t want to be a cliché. I need to writ
e this story.”
“Can’t you improvise?”
“What do you mean by improvise?” Please don’t mean make it up.
“Write a different story.”
Oh. “I don’t think that’s going to work.” That wasn’t what Phil expected.
“What are you thinking?”
“What do you care?”
Spin looked offended. “Just because I write about tackle counts and sack stats doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart. What are you doing after work?”
“Are you asking me out?”
He was older. His nose had been broken more than once. Not that older and a little rugged was a problem. Think harvester salesman with a sporty city flavor.
His shoulders went back. “Do you want to go out with me?” He sounded as surprised as she had.
He probably couldn’t cross his ankles behind his head. “Uh.” She probably should know when someone was hitting on her.
