Block Shot (Hoops 2)

“Do the Titans agree? Lowell says there’s still no deal.”

I lean back so my ergonomic chair tilts.

“Checking up on me, Cal?” I ask casually. Too casually. He knows I’m the last shoulder he needs to look over.

“No, I happened to run into Lowell.” Cal crosses one ankle over his knee. “But I have heard some things that I wanted to address before we have any . . .”

He squints and waves his hand in the air.

“Any issues,” he finishes.

“Issues?” I cross my legs, too. “Uh huh. Go on.”

“I know you and Jared Foster are working on a project together.”

“Yes, Kenan and August, one of Jared’s clients obviously, are doing a fundraiser together.”

“The golf tournament, yes.”

That gives me pause. He and I haven’t spoken about the specifics of the project. Why would we? He hasn’t interfered in my business for years. If he and I haven’t spoken about the project, he’s obviously spoken to someone about it. And I have to wonder why.

“What’s going on, Cal?” I lean forward and set my elbows on the desk and rest my chin on folded hands.

“Now, you know I trust you, Banner.”

“I thought I knew,” I reply, deliberately keeping my voice light.

“I do trust you,” Cal assures hastily. “It’s that damn Foster I don’t trust.”

“Jared?” My heartbeat stills and starts again. “Why? I mean I know he’s at another firm, but we’re coordinating sponsors for our clients’ fundraiser, not swapping company secrets.”

“Nothing like that. I think he means to lure you over to Elevation.”

I laugh because it’s ridiculous.

“You’re mistaken.” I shake my head, relieved that this is all. “He doesn’t.”

“He definitely has an interest in you.”

I won’t stop until you’re completely mine.

An interest. That’s one way to put it. I bite into an involuntary smile and suppress a shiver. As complicated as Jared has made things with Zo, I haven’t felt so alive in ages. Anticipating the next time I’ll see him. The intimacy of his kisses, the fire in his touch, how he stimulates my body and my mind. I shift in my seat and uncross my legs.

“Don’t worry, Cal,” I tell him with a wry smile. “Jared’s no threat.”

“Really?” Cal looks anything but sure. “He told me himself that my prize mare, as he put it, was safe, but that he could take better care of you at Elevation.”

All the gooey residual feelings congeal and thicken, settling like a lump at the bottom of my belly.

“Prize mare?” I ask numbly. “He said that?”

“Word for word,” Cal says, watching my face closely. “He all but warned me. You’d tell me if he made any offers, right? At least give me a chance to match whatever he presents, Banner.”

“Uh . . . he hasn’t made any offers,” I say absently.

Of the professional variety anyway, but maybe that was his end game. Even though Bent told me Jared wasn’t in on Prescott’s cruel joke, doubt floods me again. It’s like a habit, doubting myself. From the outside, no one would suspect, but there’s a crack in every wall. I’m no exception. I’ve lost a lot of weight. I’m in the best shape of my life, but I’m not, nor will I ever be a Quinn. A Tanya. A Cindy.

I’m a Banner, and Jared made me believe—again—that’s what he wanted. Legitimately, desperately wanted that from the way he looks at me, the things he’s said. Did I misjudge the situation?