Hard Pass (St. Louis Mavericks 3)

ROB: Hey, how was family dinner?

SARIAH: I’m still here. Food was good and my niece is hilarious. On the flip side, my sister’s engagement party is coming up and I don’t know if I’ll be able to go because of work. It’s made me incredibly popular here today.

ROB: You can’t get the time off?

SARIAH: I’m brand new. I don’t feel comfortable asking for time off this soon.

ROB: I think most jobs would understand, especially on a weekend.

SARIAH: I’ll talk to my boss this week.

ROB: How’s work going in general?

SARIAH: It’s pretty great. I closed a big deal just recently, which is going to mean a nice bonus. I’m super excited and I think my boss was impressed.

ROB: Good for you. Congrats!

SARIAH: Thanks.

ROB: So, do you like it there?

SARIAH: I’ve made friends and everyone is cool, so I’m happy with the way things are going. There’s a woman named Monique who cracks me up every damn day. She’s hilarious. And my boss is pretty laid back, which is a nice change from my old boss at the newspaper.

ROB: Sounds like you’ve settled in.

SARIAH: I think so. At least I don’t hate waking up in the morning because I don’t want to go to work. In fact, it’s the opposite. I never know what’s going to happen, which is pretty cool.

ROB: Sounds like a fun place to work.

SARIAH: Don’t get me wrong, it’s intense. There’s a lot of money at stake, and pressure to sell sell sell, but it’s invigorating instead of draining. It’s hard to explain.

ROB: I think I know what you mean.

SARIAH: Ugh. I have to go. I’m getting the stink eye from my mom for being on my phone. Meanwhile, my sisters, my eighty-year-old grandmother, and sixty-year-old aunt are giggling over pictures of one of the guys I work with.

ROB: Huh?

SARIAH: One of my coworkers does some modeling on the side and my sister pulled it up on her phone to show everyone. Now they’re giggling like teenagers.

ROB: You’re not into models?

SARIAH: Those kinds of guys have wayyyy too much ego and emotional baggage for me. I prefer a boyfriend with more body hair than I have. Trust me, I would know.

ROB: I’m intrigued. Did you used to date a model?

SARIAH: Unfortunately, that’s a long story and I have to go before my mother turns me into a pillar of salt with one of her glares. Maybe we can talk one night this week?

ROB: Sure. I’ll be home in a few days and it won’t be as stressful at work.

SARIAH: Great. Talk soon!

Chapter Ten

Nash

* * *

“How is this possible?” Lars asked me, arching a brow skeptically.

“I know, dude. It’s weird that it happened this way, but it did. The woman I’ve been texting is definitely the new woman in sales.”

We were at a downtown St. Louis bar having lunch, and I’d made a spur-of-the-moment decision to tell Lars about my dilemma. He was hung up on how unlikely it was that the person who had randomly texted me was now working for our team.

“It sounds like a scam,” he said, his face twisting into an expression of suspicion.

“How could it be a scam? She’s not asking me for anything.”

“Not now, but…” He shrugged. “Sheridan and I just watched a movie on Netflix about a man who scammed women out of money using dating apps.”

I shook my head before continuing.

“It’s definitely not a scam, bro. And that’s not even why I told you. Can you rewind to the part where I asked you for advice on whether I should tell her who I am?”

“Of course you should tell her.”

Everything was black and white to Lars, which meant sometimes his advice was great, but other times…not so much.

“She laughed at my ad photo. I don’t think she’ll like finding out I’m the guy she’s been texting.”

His lips tilted up into a small smile. “If she laughed at your photo, then I like her. You should try to make this work. Don’t screw it up like you always do.”

I glared at him, about to fire off a response when a man approached our table.

“Excuse me, but you’re Lars Jansson, right?”

“Yes.”

The man’s whole face lit up. “I’m a huge Mavericks fan. I hate to impose, but do you think I could get a photo with you?”

“Of course,” Lars said. “Do you want Nash in the photo, too?”

The man looked at me, confusion on his face. “Nash Reilly?”

“Guilty.” I flashed a grin at him and the woman standing next to him.

“Sorry I didn’t recognize you,” the fan said. “That’d be great to have both of you in the picture.”

“You did not recognize him because of the clothes,” Lars said. “You are used to seeing him with just his underwear.”

The man laughed as he passed his phone to the woman at his side. “Oh yeah, the underwear ad. I see that picture everywhere I go. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.”