He lowered his head, dropped his gaze to his lap.
“If I can overcome the pain of my past, then you can, too. I promise to be there to help you every step of the way, Emilio. You can do this.” Sharleen raised an index finger. “Give me a month. If after thirty days, you still think I’m full of it, I’ll give Antwan a refund.”
“That won’t be necessary. Antwan says you’re worth every penny, and I believe him. We’ve only been talking for a few hours, but I’m already impressed.”
So am I. You’re kind and sweet and fine as hell!
“I’m not averse to counseling, but I can’t come to your office.” He shrugged and gave a small smile. “I can’t risk the paparazzi or my family finding out that I’m in therapy. My cousins and brothers would tease me mercilessly.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Hell if I know,” he said, with a wry laugh. “My father’s been married four times, and I lost count of how many siblings I had years ago!”
Emilio chuckled, and Sharleen did, too.
“I’m kidding. I have six brothers and two sisters. My old man loves kids and thinks having them around keeps him young, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to have more children!”
The waitress, who was clearly a college student trying to pay her way through school, arrived with the bill.
Emilio took out his wallet, slid his platinum card through the portable debit machine and punched in his PIN. “Thanks for everything, miss. The food was great.”
The waitress retrieved the machine and cupped a hand over her mouth. “A thousand-dollar tip?” she shrieked. “This is awesome. Thank you so much!”
Sharleen was impressed by Emilio’s generosity, but she wondered if it was all for show. Did he give the waitress a huge tip just to impress her? Or was this just another day in the life of a superstar athlete worth millions? Watching him with growing interest, she felt enthralled by him—and aroused, too. It wasn’t every day she met a sensitive, thoughtful guy with a big heart. No wonder I’m hot for him. Who wouldn’t be? He’s every woman’s dream man!
“It’s time to switch gears.”
Emilio stood, came around the table and helped Sharleen out of her chair.
“Let’s have another round of drinks and play pool.”
“I hate to brag, but I won several pool tournaments in college.”
“Famous last words...”
“Want to bet?” An idea came to mind and a smile filled her lips. “If I win, you’re going to be my guest at the Mind, Body & Soul Conference this weekend—”
“And if I win you’re going to be my live-in chef for the rest of the month.”
As if! Sharleen made her eyes wide, as if she were shocked, but she was secretly amused.
“I love Southern cuisine, and the pictures of your bayou fried shrimp and coconut cream pie look delicious.” He moved closer, swallowed the space between them. “Can I get a taste?”
Anytime, anyplace. His voice tickled the tips of her ears. His gaze held her captive, awakened every cell in her body. Sharleen stood as still as stone, but her heart was pounding inside her chest, racing erratically. “What were you doing poking around my Instagram page?”
“Just doing my research.”
Sharleen felt a glimmer of pride when she caught Emilio steal a peek at her butt, but she pretended not to notice. In the arcade, she selected a cue stick, gripped it in a loose, relaxed manner and hit the cue ball so hard it shot down the pool table at lightning-fast speed.
Ten minutes into the game, Sharleen realized Emilio had no hope of beating her. He was more interested in shooting the breeze with her than playing the game. He asked dozens of questions about her family and career life, and the more they talked, the less tense he seemed, the more relaxed. He was lowering his guard, finally opening up to her, and she was thrilled they were finally getting along. They chatted effortlessly about current topics, their favorite hobbies and activities, and swapped hilarious stories about their childhoods.
“Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”
Sharleen shook her head. “You first.”
“That’s easy. I’m addicted to golf, ESPN and the video game ‘Need for Speed,’ of course.” He reached out and touched a hand to her cheek. “And I have a weakness for women who wear red glasses.”
“Sure you do. And I love men with long, curly chest hair!”
Emilio laughed, and her heart soared. Sharleen didn’t know if he was flirting with her just for the hell of it or because he was genuinely attracted to her, but she enjoyed his attention. Although, she wasn’t a gullible fool—she knew better than to take him seriously.