the court. She moved forward to guard him, her arms wide. He stopped and held the ball up over his head, where she couldn’t get it since he guessed she was a couple inches shorter. He turned away for a moment to look for an open teammate—
And she jumped, slapped it out of his hands, headed in the other direction and sank an easy layup shot.
Everyone laughed again.
Jim slapped Kyle on the back. “Never thought I’d see the day when you got your ass kicked by a hundred pound woman.”
***
Kyle sat on the bench after the game, totally exhausted with his head against the cool concrete wall, dripping sweat and out of breath. The redhead had totally wiped the floor with him. He looked over as everyone gathered up their gym bags and headed for the showers. The woman was smiling and laughing as she shook hands with the guys, then headed in his direction.
She stopped right in front of him. “You need some oxygen? Paramedic? CPR?”
“Funny.”
She stuck out her hand. “Hey, I’m kidding. Good game.”
“Yeah, right. Maybe for you.”
“I said good game. You’re supposed to shake the hand of your opponent after we’re done. Unless you’re some sort of sore loser.”
“No. You played great and I admit you kicked my ass.” He shook her hand as he studied her face. “You play in college or something?”
“Nope.”
“High school?”
“Uh-uh. Just the court in the old neighborhood. And I’ve got four brothers well over six feet tall. So I had to learn to shoot three-pointers and control the ball or I was toast.”
“Well, you’re a hell of a player.”
“Thank you.”
“You come here often?” he asked.
“That the best line you can come up with? We’re not in a bar.”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“Again, I’m kidding! I like to shoot to blow off steam and, like I said, the day got off to a really bad start. Anyway, this was fun. Hadn’t played an actual game in a while. Thanks for inviting me.” She waved at him. “Well, see ya—”
She started to walk away. “Hey. I didn’t get your name.”
She turned and smiled. “Sure you did. Little Red.” She winked and headed for the women’s locker room.
Jim came over and patted him on the back as they both watched her walk away. “Girl sure had your number today.”
“Yeah. Wish I had hers.”
***
Lexi looked out at the crowd of about two hundred in the large hotel meeting room and grabbed the sides of the podium. “Okay, that’s my take on spin doctoring, and we’ve got a few minutes left, so I’ll be happy to take questions.”
A woman in the front row raised her hand. “You didn’t mention that you handle the PR for Congressman Bensen. How are you going to deal—”
“Handled, past tense. As of this morning, he is no longer my client. There are simply some situations that are not spinnable, if that’s even a word, and this was one of them. I officially cut ties with his campaign this morning. While political accounts can be very lucrative, being associated with a situation like that isn’t worth the money or the trouble. And it wouldn’t do much for my reputation. While all of us in public relations occasionally have to deal with people and companies we don’t particularly like, there are some lines I personally can’t cross. Meanwhile, if there’s a politician in the audience who does not own an outfit from the Joffrey Ballet and doesn’t have anyone going to the whip at the top of the stretch, I’ll be happy to talk to you.”
The crowd laughed as she pointed to a woman in the back with her hand raised. “Yes…”
“Suppose this was your garden variety cheating politician, without the tu-tu and riding crop and all the ridicule that came with that. How would you have handled it?”
“Same outcome. I would have quit. But told his wife to clean him out on the way. Honestly, I have no tolerance for infidelity, personally or professionally. I may be old-fashioned in that respect, but that’s a deal-breaker for me. So there’s no such thing as a garden-variety extra-marital affair. If you’re breaking a sacred vow, which I consider marriage to be, it doesn’t matter if you wanna play prima ballerina or pretend you’re running in the Kentucky Derby while you’re cheating. I realize there have been plenty of politicians who have resurrected their careers after being caught, but I’m not interested in that kind of client. I have to look myself in the mirror at the end of the day. One more question.” She pointed to a very young man in the middle of the auditorium. “Yes.”
“Ms. Harlow, I’m about to graduate with a degree in public relations and I’d like to learn from a real-life spin girl. Can I come work for you?”
The crowd laughed as she smiled. “Now how did you know I needed a nickname? But sadly, young man, I do not have any openings as I run a two-person agency. But that’s the kind of spunk you need to survive in this business. Be bold and believe in yourself. That’s half the battle. And, remember, it is never the wrong time to do the right thing.”
***
Lexi bounded up the stairs to her apartment carrying a grocery bag of goodies. Knocking off work early after a sleepless night and a tough Friday and cooking dinner for her boyfriend would take her mind off the money situation. She’d gotten a great reception at the conference, handed out a ton of business cards and met some possible future clients. Things would get better for her agency.
And people had started calling her Spin Girl. The name had stuck. Hopefully it would get around and help to single her out from her competition.
But right now she desperately needed a hug from Dave. And probably a lot more from the hunky actor on the hot new sitcom who turned her on like no man ever had and was the best-looking guy she’d ever dated. Their two-year relationship was a bright spot in her life, as he had been her oasis when things were going rough for her professionally. Tonight was the night she would ask him to move in with her. Hell, because he had roommates and she lived by herself, he spent most nights at her apartment anyway and had a key to the place. She had two hours to get dinner and herself ready.
She heard voices as she put the key in the door. “Dammit, I left the TV on again.” She opened it and what she saw made her jaw drop along with the groceries.
The television set was off.
The voices were coming from behind the bedroom door. And there was no TV in that room.
Her pulse spiked as she quickly moved to the bedroom, opened the door and found the source of the noise.
Dave, naked, his amazing physique bathed in candlelight. Wrists tied to the bedposts with neckties that she’d given him as gifts.
With
