Cleat Catcher (The Cleat Chaser Duet Book 2) (20 page)

“Okay. Let’s wait and see.” I fell back into the couch and she rested her head on my shoulder. The decision I’d have to make was becoming clear. I knew I’d have to choose between Nik and baseball. I told myself I’d choose Nik, no matter what. But was I lying to myself?

N
IKKI

M
Y COMPUTER WAS
broken. Had to be. I kept looking at the time showing in the bottom right corner and the number didn’t seem to change. I thwacked the side of the monitor with my palm and the number clicked over. Clearly, my efforts had worked.

Kyrie had been in Graciela’s office for over an hour. Not that I was counting or anything. I thwacked the monitor again, but the digits mocked me and remained the same. I put my head on my desk as the familiar squeak of the mail cart filled the hallway.
Squeak … squeak … squeak.

The sound stopped, and I could sense Grady-the-mouth-breather outside my door.

“What do you want?” I glanced up, and he was staring as usual. Couldn’t he tell this was a majorly important day for me?

“I, uh, there’s mail.” He smiled, his comically large front teeth on display.

“Put it on my desk.” I put my head back down as Grady shuffled into the room. The sound of mail flopping into my tray was followed with heavy silence. He was still in my office, but I refused to look at him again. Maybe if I kept my head down, he’d go away.

After a few more moments, I heard the distinctive
shick
of scissors. That got me to raise my head. Grady backed away with one hand hidden behind him.

I narrowed my eyes. “What did you do?”

“Just delivered the mail.” He backed all the way out my door and returned to his cart. He kept hiding his hand, so I knew he must have had something in it.

Squeak
…
Squeak…
The sound stopped, and I heard Grady take in a huge sniffing breath through his nose followed by a relieved-sounding “aahhh” on the exhale.

“What in the ever loving fuck?” I sat up and nearly lost my shit when I realized a few strands of my hair stayed on the desk. They’d been neatly cut. Yanking my hair out to inspect the ends, I realized Grady had cut a lock of my hair from one side. A
big
lock of hair.

I rose from my desk and darted around toward my door, not sure what I was going to do, but certain I would make it hurt.

“Grady, you fucking duckbill pervypus!” I ran into the hallway after him, but instead of Grady, Graciela was walking toward me, one eyebrow raised in displeasure.

My heart sank through the carpet and into a shredder on a lower floor.
Fuck!

“Duckbill pervypus?” She strode past me with an air of impatience.

“I—that was—” I followed her into my office. “—we were just.”

“Sit down, Nikki. It’s time we had a chat.” Her tone brooked no nonsense, so I closed the door and sank into my desk chair. It was probably a good thing. My knees were already wobbling.

“What can I, um, do for you Graciela?” I noticed she had a thin stack of papers in her hand.

She perched on my visitor’s bench like a graceful, if bony, bird. “That’s a good question.” She flipped past the first page and read aloud. “
Cyrano reveals that the passion for fringe was short-lived and is already on its way out. Customers are far more interested in the faux fur revolution for the upcoming winter season.
” She laid the papers in her lap and tapped her chin. “What gave you the idea for this article?”

I pulled at the peter pan collar of my top. “Well, I was shopping with my mother. Cyrano was helping me, and I noticed that he had a thing for tits, and as—I mean, I noticed he was straight, but he also had a killer sense of style. So, I sort of …” I took a deep breath and tried to choose the right words. “I sort of told him that he should do the story because he could get more commissions from readers who might choose him to assist them, and if he did it, I wouldn’t tell people he was a straight guy named Cyrus.” I delivered the last part like a question.

“So you sniffed out a story and then strong-armed the subject into cooperating?” She crossed her lean arms over her chest.

“That’s putting it kind of harshly.” I did my best to brush off my devious tactics. “I just sort of found a way for both of us to get what we wanted. I got a great story. He got a chance at more commissions. No harm done.”

“Hmm. Let’s set that aside for the moment.” She leaned forward. “Are you aware that we’ve gotten excellent feedback about your waxing piece? It seems a lot of our readers didn’t realize their salons weren’t using the correct techniques or materials. We’ve also had several readers express gratitude to you for laying it all out in your down-to-earth style.”

“I didn’t know—”

She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I confess, I didn’t think you had what it took to fit in here. You’re brash, and you have the filthiest mouth I’ve ever heard, and I used to date a Navy man.” Her eyes narrowed. “But the readers are reacting to you. And this piece.” She held up her hand. “I can already feel that it’s going to strike a chord with our readers. It appeals to people like Cyrus, who love fashion but can’t exactly afford the luxuries in the store where he works, but also appeals to the women who read our magazines while lying on the beach in the Hamptons.”

My heart expanded with each of her words until I worried it might burst.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” She rose, her voice authoritative. “You are promoted to the position of editor—”

I squealed, but she held up a hand.

“
Provisionally
, for six months. If, during that six months, you’ve continued to produce top notch work, you will be an editor, free and clear. The only reason you’re getting the promotion now is so you can focus on your writing. It’s hard to do that and be an assistant, as well.” She smiled as much as her Botox allowed. “After all, I started as an assistant, so I know what it’s like.” Walking to my door, she turned. “But, mark my words, if you slack off or disappoint me, you’ll be right back in this shoebox, dealing with the ad department, and getting everyone’s lunch. Got me?”

I couldn’t even process the words coming from her mouth, but I stuttered out a response. “Yes, I will—I mean I won’t disappoint you. Thank you, Graciela.” I wanted to squeeze her, but that might have turned her into a pile of vampire dust, so I just sat dumbfounded as she disappeared into the hall.

“What happened to your hair?” Kyrie walked in, the smile on her face warring with a quizzical expression.

I jumped up and ran to her. “Give me some sweet tit lovin’, bestie!”

She laughed and let me snuggle against her as she plucked at the ravaged strands of hair. “But seriously, why did you do this?”

I pulled away. “You got me promoted!”

She shook her head and kept picking at my hair. “
You
got you promoted. Graciela was more than a little impressed with your Cyrano piece. It didn’t hurt that I said you were capable of that on a monthly basis, on top of editing duties.”

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. “This is huge.”

Kyrie snorted. “That’s what she said. Now, what’s with the hair?”

“Grady.”

She seemed to cough on her own spit before reining it in. “You let Grady cut your hair?”

I took the few steps back to my chair and collapsed into it, my mind reeling from the news. “He cut it when I wasn’t looking.”

“How on earth did he manage to cut your hair without you seeing him?”

“I don’t know. I had my head on my desk, and I don’t even care anymore.” I pinched my arm. It was real. “I’m an editor.”

She nodded and leaned against my door frame. “Graciela is having the office next to mine cleared. We’ll be neighbors. You’ll need to hire an assistant, too.”

“My own assistant?” I kicked my feet.

“
Our
assistant. We’ll have to share.”

“I don’t care. Besides, I already know who would be perfect for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Cyrus. He’s all about fashion, and he guarded my luggage with his life.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You’re right. He’s perfect. Tell him to call HR, and they’ll get him all set up.”

“I will. Once I come down. Right now I’m just so intensely frickin—”

“Overwhelmed? I know. Congratulations, Nik. You deserve it. I’ll go and let you make some phone calls. I’m sure you’re dying to tell Braden and your mom.”

My sails deflated a bit. “Braden. We’re going to the doctor today. If it’s bad—”

She held up a hand. “It won’t be. And if it is, we’ll deal.”

I picked at the hem of my skirt. “If he gets traded, I’ll have to leave this. Even though it’s finally happening for me, I’ll have to give it up.” I shook my head. I should have been worrying about Braden instead of myself.

“Wait and see what the doctor says before you start packing, okay?” She pointed to my phone. “Call Braden. He’ll be thrilled. Trust me. Just don’t tell him about Grady.” She laughed. “He wouldn’t like it, and I still don’t know how you let that creeper cut your hair without you noticing.”

When she turned to leave, I burst out laughing. She was missing a sizeable chunk of her brown hair on the left side.

“What?” She looked over her shoulder.

“Oh, nothing.” I picked up the phone to call Braden. “Nothing at all.”

“Is this the part where you have to give a jizz sample?” I slid between Braden’s knees as he sat on the exam table, his legs dangling off the sides.

I only got a strained smile out of him. I tried again. “I hear there’s a nurse here who has a strict three-finger method. How well would you say you know the limits of your own prostate?”

His smile grew bigger, and he gripped my ass, pulling me closer. “Just because I’m in a hospital gown doesn’t mean I can’t make you do unspeakable things until the doctor gets here.” He slapped my ass.

Color rushed into my cheeks — both sets — and I got onto my tiptoes. He leaned forward and gave me a brief kiss, not the breathtaking sort I was used to. I could feel the worry rolling off him, and my attempts at distraction weren’t going as well as I’d hoped.

“Oh, hang on.” I turned my back to him. “I brought you something to look at while we wait.”

I grabbed the latest
Style and Substance
issue from my purse and,
whoops
, dropped it on the floor. With a sly smile, I looked over my shoulder as I widened my stance and bent at the waist to retrieve it. Braden’s gaze went right to my hemline, already cut to inappropriate heights, as I reached for the magazine.

He made a small strangled sound when my hands went flat on the floor. Once I had the issue in my fingers, I straightened and turned back to him as if nothing were amiss.

He swallowed hard and crooked a finger at me. Excitement rushed through me as I took the few steps back to the exam table.

“Is my little slut trying to tease me?” This time he yanked me between his legs.

“What gave it away? My lack of panties?”

His cock began to press against the front of his gown. “Look what you’ve done.”

I flipped what was left of my hair over my shoulder. “I don’t care.”

He breathed out hard through his nose. My sass was getting to him.

“I think you need a—”

There was a sharp knock at the door behind Braden. The nurse poked her head in. “Doctor Sullivan got caught up in the OR. He’s running late. We expect him here in fifteen minutes or so.”

“Thanks.” I smiled as she shut the door.

“Fifteen minutes.” I started to back away to grab my phone so I could text Kyrie that I wouldn’t be back to work today.

Braden gripped my hips hard. “As I was saying before we were interrupted, I think you need a spanking.”

Heat rushed over my skin like wildfire. “No. We can’t do that in here.” I glanced around at the sterile office, the white tile floors, and the very medical-looking cabinets and swabs.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to give me a view of that fine pussy when you know I can’t sink my cock in you.” He gave me the sexy smirk that always managed to make my knees go weak.