Block Shot (Hoops 2)
Page 55
I chose the paper-thin leather jacket and form-fitting black pencil dress carefully, knowing Kip Carter, Bent’s dad, is a big deal. I may be thicker than a lot of the girls in the circles I move in, but I know this dress highlights the toned curves I’ve literally worked my ass off for. Some of my hair is pulled into a half-up top knot and the rest spills in loose waves down my back. For better or worse, image is a lot in this town, and I want to put my best foot forward meeting such an influential man.
Even if his son is an asshole I hope to never see again. Fingers crossed Bent won’t be around at all. Last I heard, he lived in Boston, tearing his way through a string of women unfortunate enough to be fooled by his gorgeous face.
My heart pounds harder the closer we get to the helicopter with Carter emblazoned on the side. I’m not short of breath trying to keep pace with Jared’s long-legged stride. I’m short of breath because I may hyperventilate before this is all over.
“You’ve been in one of these before, yeah?” Jared asks offhandedly.
“Uh, no. I haven’t actually.”
“What’d you say?” Jared yells, stopping at the two steps leading up into the helicopter.
“No!” I scream, less for volume sake and more because of my rising hysteria.
“Oh.” He searches my fac
e, and I’m sure he doesn’t miss the signs of strain. “Sorry. Come on.”
Hand at the small of my back, he helps me up into the helicopter. The red leather seat wraps around my body and gives me a reassuring squeeze. Jared greets the pilot with familiarity and takes two headsets from him, offering one to me. I slip mine on and buckle up, mimicking Jared’s actions. I jump when his voice comes in my ear.
“We can talk using this.” He taps the headset microphone at his mouth. “It’s only about fifteen minutes to the house.”
My stomach roils when we lift off and I grip the armrests tightly. Riding in a helicopter is nothing like flying on an airplane. That’s probably self-evident. It’s not a smooth gradual ascent, but a more immediate lift. More exhilarating, rawer, without the insulation of thick steel separating you from the air and the ground growing smaller below you. It’s loud, and the machine sounds like it’s working hard to overcome the laws that would chain us to the ground. I’m more conscious of what a miracle flight is, more aware that we are defying gravity with every mile we travel and every foot we rise.
“You okay?” Jared asks, pulling me from my thoughts and my senses absorbing the experience.
“Getting there,” I say wryly.
“Well we have a little time to review your changes to the proposal I sent. You have it, right?”
“Yeah.”
We both pull out our iPads to discuss the proposal he drew up.
I knew Jared must be thorough to have accomplished all that he has, but I haven’t seen this side of him. Haven’t actually done business with him. The proposal came over just before midnight. Zo had gone to bed, exhausted from off-season demands with sponsors, charities, and probably just post-season weariness. I stayed up and made notes and suggestions, which I sent over before I went to sleep.
I tap my screen, identifying the areas I had questions about. When I look up, Jared wears black-rimmed glasses and frowns down at his screen.
“So you finally did it,” I say into the headset microphone.
“Did what?” He glances up, one brow raised. It’s all very sexy professor.
“You got glasses.” I laugh lightly, disguising how yet another memory from that night penetrates the protective bubble I’ve encased myself in. “I told you so.”
His deep-throated chuckle reaches through the headset and strokes my skin. Thankfully the leather jacket hides the gooseflesh sprouting on my arms.
“Only for reading.” He takes them off and hands them to me.
I hold them up, looking through the lenses, and he’s right. There doesn’t seem to be much medicine. I slip them onto the bridge of my nose, peering at him over the rims.
“Believe it or not, I used to want glasses so badly I asked Mama to get them for me.”
“Why?” he asks with a narrow smile.
“I wanted to look smart.”
He snorts and shakes his head.
“Well how do I look?” I lift my nose in the air and touch the corners of the frames. “Smart?”