The Wife Win

Her green eyes flick to mine, lit up like an evergreen Christmas tree. But within a flash, they dim and the joy fades.

She hands the folder back. “I’m sorry. I can’t accept.”

“I’m sorry? What?” A flare of anger rises from the pit of my stomach, and I jump to my feet, cocking my head at her dismissive refusal. To say I’m stunned she’s turning down this offer is like someone claiming Jordan isn’t the GOAT in professional basketball.

Harper folds her hands on her lap and ducks her head. “I…can’t. The timing doesn’t work for me.”

My patience has worn thin, and I snap back like a taut rubber band.

“Is this some sort of game for you, Harper? You practically chased me down, begged me for an exclusive, didn’t take no for an answer, and now that I’m delivering it on a silver platter, and you refuse it?”

Her voice is soft and meek, barely a whisper. “I can assure you, I’m not playing games. I’d be a fool to pass it up. I understand that. If it were any other time, I would say yes. But I can’t next week. I’m only in Seattle through tomorrow and then I have to return to Spokane.”

“So, change your plans. You’re a reporter. You go where the story is and when.”

Harper shakes her head with a sad bow. “I’m so sorry if I wasted your time, Marek.” Harper stands from the chair and offers me her hand, her voice quavering a bit. “I really do appreciate the opportunity.”

I don’t shake her hand. I ignore it as I stare into her eyes that are a shimmering pool of green. Like she’s on the cusp of tears and narrowly holding it together.

Heaving an exasperated sigh, I shake my head as I spin around and move behind my desk to sit down and open up my laptop. I need a fucking drink.

Clicking my schedule open, I lift my head to peer at Glen.

“When did you say we return from our ACC college visits?”

Glen looks down at his phone, dropping his reading glasses to his nose and pushing some buttons.

“A week before the G League Camp and a week before the Combine. So, that puts us at the beginning of June.”

Today is May 10th. That should give Harper plenty of time to sort through whatever it is she needs to be present for back in Spokane.

Lifting a brow, I level Harper with my gaze.

“Well, Harper? Does that work for your schedule? You’d commit to a full two weeks on the road with us during the camp and the Combine. The team will cover the cost of travel for you and your cameraman. I’m sure you’ll need to get approval from your station’s executive producer…”

Before I can finish, she’s nodding her head effusively, her smile the brightest I’ve ever seen. “Done. No problem. Thank you for the scheduling accommodation. That will work.”

This time I do accept her hand and we shake as I try to keep my mind from focusing on how soft her hand is and how good it feels in my palm.

Clearing my throat, I nod. “Okay then. Vivian will get some additional details from you, and your passes and access cards are in this packet. I have your number and I believe you have mine now, so if anything should come up in the next few weeks, just keep me posted.”

“I will. Thank you again, Mr. Talbert. This is…well, it’s an unexpected honor.”

I frown at her use of theMr. It makes me feel so old and far too formal for what this will be. “You’re welcome, Harper. And please, from here on out, just call me Marek.”

She smiles, turning to Glen to give his hand a firm shake before she leaves to speak with Vivian, closing the door behind her.

Glen remains silent for a few moments as I jot down some notes in my laptop.

When he finally breaks the silence, it’s what I expect to hear.

“What the hell was that all about? Christ, if you wanted to get in the girl’s pants…”

I shoot him a stern warning look, wagging my finger at him.

“No…that’s not even a consideration. So just wipe it from your fucking dirty mind.”

He gives me an innocent shrug. “Okay…fine. But Marek? You hate the press. Loathe them. Two hours ago, you were cursing the lot of them.”