Running Back (New York Leopards 2)

She mimed tossing a pillow at me. “It won’t be that hard.”

“Whatever, I don’t need to. The carbon, you know. It’ll be keeping me busy.”

“Oh my God. Stop.”

I dropped onto the opposite side of the couch from her. “What? I’m sorry I prioritize my work.”

“You don’t prioritize work, you completely ignore your emotional health. It’s like you’re a little emotionless bot trained by Madame Sullivan to react to all situations with grace and poise and the best angle to be photographed, but without any legit feelings.”

“I’m sorry, when did you switch from engineering to psychology?”

“Only someone who doesn’t understand simple human behavior would interpret this as legit psychology. This is common knowledge. Besides—wait.” Cam sat up with a fervor that made me very, very wary. “I have an idea.”

“Nope.” My pendulous earrings swung out as I shook my head. “I’m not doing it.”

“No, I swear, this is a good one.” Cam gathered her hair upward and then let it cascade down. If I had been less afraid, I might have commented that this made Cam look like a mad scientist, but instead I just waited. Last time Cam had spoken in that tone, we’d ended up doing past-life regression, and the stupid regresser kept saying I was a medieval serf while Cam got to be a pirate queen. “What have you been complaining about for a solid week?”

That sounded like a trick question. “The theft of my harbor?”

Apparently I’d answered correctly, because Cam bounced up and down. “Exactly! Exactly. Who stole your harbor?”

“I thought leading questions were bad.”

“For lawyers, not best friends. So?”

I gave in. “Michael O’Connor.”

“Who you’re seeing tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, though did I tell you they wouldn’t even give me a real time?” I swung my legs over the couch arm, and dropped my head into Cam’s lap. “Just sometime between three and six. I’m terrified that if I’m five minutes late they’ll say I missed my chance.”

“Okay, that’s not the point.” Cam waved a hand dismissively. “The point is that Mike O’Connor is a highly attractive individual.”

I flushed. “Then why don’t you go out with him.”

“Aha!” Cam stabbed a finger at me. “See! There. You implied you wanted to date him.”

I pushed back my shoulders defensively. “I did not. I just know how your mind works. It was a preemptive strike.”

“Come on, this is brilliant. You hav

e a perfectly legitimate reason to talk to him.”

“Yeah, it’s a business meeting.”

“Right, he’ll sign the papers and then you’ll never see him again. So it’s not like you can get embarrassed if it goes badly, because then you don’t have to see him. But if it goes well, then you get to date a Leopard player.”

“Do I get a gold star too?”

Cam narrowed her eyes. “Only if you’re lucky. Which, coincidentally,” she said, examining her nails and obviously compressing a smile, “will only be if you get lucky.”

I swatted at her nose.

“Think what a perfect story it would be for your grandkids! And you can totally pull it off. Seeing how the only generous thing Tamara ever did was give you her looks—”

I peeled open an eyelid. “Really, Cam?”

“I mean, if I had the height and eyes of a Russian supermodel—”