team, attend their practices, travel with them, and go to their games. And the reason The Heat was willing to let someone do that was because of their PR problems. And their PR problems were mostly because of Jay Havens.
“Hello,” Alyssa said. She yanked on the bottom of her skirt. “It’s very nice to meet you.” Her boss was going to kill her. This was a big assignment, huge, even, and the only reason Alyssa was even here was because Cordelia Bloom had gotten caught up in some sexual harassment charge (something to do with their male intern who was always wearing tight jeans.) So Alyssa had been called in to pinch hit, no pun intended.
And she was already screwing everything up.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Jay said. He turned to Jensen. “I’ll bring Ms. Cotler up to the offices.”
“Oh, no,” Alyssa said. “You really don’t have to –”
“I insist,” he said, smiling at her. “Who knows when Mr. Billingsley will be back. Besides, you can’t just stay down here.”
She started to protest again, but he was already signing her in, he was writing her name in a book that Jensen had pushed across the counter, and the next thing she knew she was wearing a visitor nametag and following Jay Havens into the elevator.
***
The elevator was one of those big roomy posh ones, but for some reason, Jay felt it necessary to stand close to her, and it made Alyssa wish she were alone. Something about the man made her nervous – he seemed slick, and kind of….dangerous. Also, she didn’t understand why he was taking her upstairs. Didn’t a famous shortstop have something better to do? Not that Alyssa really knew anything about baseball players. Or baseball for that matter. Although she had been reading up on it and watching a lot of highlights on youtube since she’d gotten this assignment a couple of weeks ago.
She shifted in her high heels and watched the numbers in the elevator slide up toward the thirteenth floor. She glanced at Jay nervously out of the corner of her eye.
Although no one was actually coming out and saying it, everyone knew that Jay Havens was the reason she was here. The Brooklyn Heat’s ticket sales were suffering big time. A little research had revealed that Jay was their main problem. The Heat had paid a lot of money for him – 73 million dollars over three years – and there had been a huge hoopla when they’d landed him.
But Jay had always been a partier, and it seemed like in the past year, he’d gotten worse. A marriage to a stripper he’d met in Vegas, a bunch of photographs of him out with several different women, an annulment to his stripper marriage, questions about how dedicated he was to the team….
“So where are you from?” Jay asked easily as the elevator continued its ascent to the Heat offices.
“Boston,” Alyssa said. It wasn’t really a lie. She’d lived in Boston for the last six months, ever since she’d gotten the job at The Juice. Before that, she’d lived in the same little town in Upstate New York where she’d been born and raised. But she couldn’t tell this guy that. She didn’t want him to think she was an easy mark, someone he could just walk all over and charm. She was going to write the truth about him and his team, no matter what.
“Boston’s nice,” Jay said. “If you like that kind of vibe.”
“What kind of vibe?” Alyssa asked.
“The uptight, pseudo-intellectual vibe,” he said.
“Boston’s not like that.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“How long have you lived there?” He looked at her, and grinned, and Alyssa felt red-hot indignation boiling up inside of her.
“That,” she said, “is none of your business.”
His grin got bigger.
“Anyway,” Alyssa said, “I thought I’d be meeting with Mr. Billingsley. Do you have any idea when he might be back?”
Jay shrugged. “Nope.”
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out onto a plush cranberry carpet.
Gold columns
“Hello,” Alyssa said. She yanked on the bottom of her skirt. “It’s very nice to meet you.” Her boss was going to kill her. This was a big assignment, huge, even, and the only reason Alyssa was even here was because Cordelia Bloom had gotten caught up in some sexual harassment charge (something to do with their male intern who was always wearing tight jeans.) So Alyssa had been called in to pinch hit, no pun intended.
And she was already screwing everything up.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Jay said. He turned to Jensen. “I’ll bring Ms. Cotler up to the offices.”
“Oh, no,” Alyssa said. “You really don’t have to –”
“I insist,” he said, smiling at her. “Who knows when Mr. Billingsley will be back. Besides, you can’t just stay down here.”
She started to protest again, but he was already signing her in, he was writing her name in a book that Jensen had pushed across the counter, and the next thing she knew she was wearing a visitor nametag and following Jay Havens into the elevator.
***
The elevator was one of those big roomy posh ones, but for some reason, Jay felt it necessary to stand close to her, and it made Alyssa wish she were alone. Something about the man made her nervous – he seemed slick, and kind of….dangerous. Also, she didn’t understand why he was taking her upstairs. Didn’t a famous shortstop have something better to do? Not that Alyssa really knew anything about baseball players. Or baseball for that matter. Although she had been reading up on it and watching a lot of highlights on youtube since she’d gotten this assignment a couple of weeks ago.
She shifted in her high heels and watched the numbers in the elevator slide up toward the thirteenth floor. She glanced at Jay nervously out of the corner of her eye.
Although no one was actually coming out and saying it, everyone knew that Jay Havens was the reason she was here. The Brooklyn Heat’s ticket sales were suffering big time. A little research had revealed that Jay was their main problem. The Heat had paid a lot of money for him – 73 million dollars over three years – and there had been a huge hoopla when they’d landed him.
But Jay had always been a partier, and it seemed like in the past year, he’d gotten worse. A marriage to a stripper he’d met in Vegas, a bunch of photographs of him out with several different women, an annulment to his stripper marriage, questions about how dedicated he was to the team….
“So where are you from?” Jay asked easily as the elevator continued its ascent to the Heat offices.
“Boston,” Alyssa said. It wasn’t really a lie. She’d lived in Boston for the last six months, ever since she’d gotten the job at The Juice. Before that, she’d lived in the same little town in Upstate New York where she’d been born and raised. But she couldn’t tell this guy that. She didn’t want him to think she was an easy mark, someone he could just walk all over and charm. She was going to write the truth about him and his team, no matter what.
“Boston’s nice,” Jay said. “If you like that kind of vibe.”
“What kind of vibe?” Alyssa asked.
“The uptight, pseudo-intellectual vibe,” he said.
“Boston’s not like that.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“How long have you lived there?” He looked at her, and grinned, and Alyssa felt red-hot indignation boiling up inside of her.
“That,” she said, “is none of your business.”
His grin got bigger.
“Anyway,” Alyssa said, “I thought I’d be meeting with Mr. Billingsley. Do you have any idea when he might be back?”
Jay shrugged. “Nope.”
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out onto a plush cranberry carpet.
Gold columns
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