My cheeks go hot and I absently pull a long lock of hair over my shoulder and start playing with it. I’m liable to make it all ratty looking, but my hands need something to do with him sitting there like that, looking at me with those eyes. “It’s my job to keep track of these things. I’m a sports agent.” I feel the need to add something sarcastic, but I brush it off instead. That’s not the route I’m taking with him.
“You gave up on your clause I that contract pretty quick. Wingate could have handled this one by himself.” Cockily, he crosses one knee over the other and leans forward. No, this isn’t the man I used to know, not at all.
The wind feels like it’s been knocked out of my sails. And I sense something—he’s trying to piss me off so I’ll say something I can’t take back, or maybe so I’ll just pick up and leave. But I didn’t take this job because I couldn’t stand heat from professional sports players. I brush my hair back over my shoulder and lean forward, looking him in the eye. “Look, if you really want me to leave, I will. Do you think I want to be here? No, I don’t. I’ll go ahead and address the elephant in the room, Mack. You broke my heart. It changed the entire direction of my life, and I don’t want to be here helping you.
“But do you know where that life led? It led me to the best sports agency in the country, and I’m the best public relations agent they have. Your cousin is paying me a fuck load of money for me to make sure you don’t screw up your life. But please, by all means, kick me out of your house and send me home. I’m fine with that. I’m not going to beg you. I’m not going to insult you either—Wingate has that covered. And I’m damn sure not going to act like your parent.” I sit back and sigh.
Deep down, something in me is jangled. I told him he hurt me. I acknowledged why I was here. None of this was supposed to happen. But if it means that something breaks through to this man, we’ll be in a good place.
After tonight, I can go back to no contact.
Tomorrow, I can go back to interviewing.
Mack sits back and wipes his hand across his face, sighing deeply. “Wingate’s paying you?”
“What did you think he was doing?” I ask.
Mack laughs. “Okay, fine. As long as I don’t have to quit throwing parties, I’m in.”
I sit back in my own chair, surprised. I gather my thoughts. “Fine,” I say after a second.
“Fine?” Wingate nearly shouts it.
“Sure, that’s fine,” I say, turning to Wingate. “You can keep throwing parties. They’re going to look quite a bit different, though. And you’ll be throwing them with your brand new fiancée.”
“Say what now?” Mack's deep blue eyes meet mine. There’s a hidden look there, something I can’t read. This should be old hat for him—seducing a woman and getting with her, but this time he’ll be getting engaged. I’m tempted to say that he’s done it once before—and he can do it again. But that’s beneath me, and I guess he must have had his reasons. They’re reasons I have no interest in knowing, reasons that would probably tear me open inside.
Still, he can do this one thing.
And I can clear my mind enough to tell him what’s what.
“Macklin Pride is getting a fiancée. The Mack Pride brand—well, it’s getting an upgrade. You’re getting a classy, well-bred, intelligent, educated football wife.” I smile at him like I’ve smiled at so many men I’ve worked with. Trust me. I’ve got this.
“A wife? Are you fucking kidding me?” Mack looks at me like I’ve started launching rotten tomatoes at his face. “I’m not—that’s not what I do. I mean it was—and I was serious when I—God, woman, you can’t do this—”
My cheeks grow hot, and there’s a clenching feeling inside my chest. I push aside the welling tide of emotion, trying not to read the looks crossing over Mack’s face. Yes, that was us, once. But I’m here for a job, and the situation in front of us is demanding this type of solution. I’ve done it a dozen times before. I take a deep breath and shrug to signal my nonchalance. “Macklin, there are all sorts of contracts, non-disclosure agreements, interviews, and processes in place to make sure we’ve got the right girl for your image. I’ve already talked to a few of them and we’ve already got a frontrunner. Now, none of this means you have to be with her for the rest of your life—”
“That’s what marriage is, Renata.” He looks at me pointedly. “That’s the biggest contract of all.” He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t continue.