“You wouldn’t take me seriously if I dressed like a pinup girl.”
“That’s true,” he’d conceded. “But seeing you in a pair of Daisy Dukes would definitely make for a more interesting session.”
“Keep dreaming!” she’d said, her tone full of attitude and sass. “Now, go get your life plan, or I’ll tell your golf buddies you tear up watching chick flicks!”
Her joke still made him laugh. Emilio couldn’t believe how much his life had changed since meeting Sharleen, how rejuvenated he felt. She asked him tough questions and didn’t let up until he answered them openly and honestly. These days, he wasn’t cooped up in the house watching old home videos; he was busier than ever. He volunteered at The Salvation Army three days a week, played coed soccer at the YMCA and attended support-group meetings at Pathways Center on Wednesday nights. Thankfully, no one at the center recognized him, and to his surprise, at the end of every session he felt less stressed-out and more hopeful about his future. The dark cloud that had been hanging over his head since Lucca’s death had finally lifted, and Sharleen Nichols was the reason why.
“We’re getting along great.” Emilio didn’t want Antwan to know he was interested in Sharleen romantically, so he wiped the lopsided grin off of his face. “I hate to admit it, but you were right. She’s smart, insightful and tough as nails. Sharleen doesn’t let me get away with anything, and when I complain, she gives me an earful!”
Antwan wore a proud smile. “That’s my girl.”
No, she’s my girl. Yesterday, during their afternoon coaching session, he’d spoken openly about his tumultuous childhood, his strained relationship with his father and the pressures of fame. Sharleen told him what he needed to hear—not what he wanted to hear—and encouraged him to focus on the future, not the mistakes of his past. And when he walked her back to her car hours later, Emilio realized he didn’t want her to leave—ever.
“I’m glad you guys hit it off. I was worried you’d give her a hard time and she’d quit.”
“I’d never do that,” Emilio shot back, disappointed that his manager thought so little of him. “I know a good woman when I see one, and Sharleen Nichols is the real deal.”
The desk phone buzzed, but Antwan didn’t move. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Cocking his head to the right, he stroked the length of his jaw. “You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?”
Pretending he didn’t hear the question, Emilio picked up a baseball off the glass shelf and admired his cousin’s signature. He’d given the autographed ball to Antwan for Christmas years earlier and grinned when he remembered how his business manager had jumped for joy when he opened the gift box. His cousin Demetri Morretti was not only a talented baseball player, but also a class act. Emilio respected him, and although they didn’t speak often, he valued his opinion. I need to get in touch with Demetri, Nicco and Rafael. I miss those guys, and I want them to meet Sharleen the next time they’re in town.
“Does Sharleen know how you feel? Have you told her?” Antwan pressed. “Is she interested in you, too?”
Emilio wriggled his eyebrows, as if he were amused, but he knew his business manager could see through his flimsy charade. Antwan had always been able to read him like a book. “There’s nothing going on between us.”
“Not yet, but it’s just a matter of time.”
I sure hope so, because I’m tired of being a gentleman. I want to kiss her, and love her, and—
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Antwan continued. “This is nothing new. All of Sharleen’s male clients end up falling in love with her.”
Emilio felt his eyes fly out of his head. “They do?”
“Of course. What’s not to love? She’s a strong, intelligent woman with a great head on her shoulders, and men naturally gravitate toward her.” He gave a dismissive shrug. “You’re not the first client to fall for her, and you won’t be the last.”
Oh, yes, I will. You just wait and see!
“Sharleen’s a hot commodity on the Atlanta social scene, and several guys are pursuing her right now.”
His mind reeling, Emilio took a moment to catch his breath. His heart was beating so fast he feared it would conk out. His lips felt like sandpaper, coarse and dry, but he asked the question on the tip of his tongue. “Are you sure?”
“We have a lot of the same friends, and her love life is a popular topic. Apparently, she gets around.”
Emilio dropped down onto the leather chair in front of Antwan’s desk. He couldn’t stomach the thought of Sharleen being with another man, didn’t want to believe she was like all of the other promiscuous women who threw themselves at him. But his gut feeling was that his friend was telling him the truth. The realization that Sharleen wasn’t the woman he thought she was made his heart ache.