Pete shaved with care, thinking about the stats he got from Carl about Jo Parker. Age: 33, single, never married, B.A. degree, magna cum laude. That she was beautiful, curvy and classy he could figure out for himself. So, I’m a little older than she is. So what? Ten years. Today –that’s nothing. He smiled as the razor glided through the thick coating of cream on his face.
He shrugged the shirt over his broad shoulders and picked a dark gold tie from the rack. He pulled on khaki pants pressed to knife-sharp creases. A forest green wool jacket completed the outfit. He looked in the full length mirror as he combed his thick hair. Never cared what I wore to work. But now there’s a goddess in the office next to me.
Mikki would approve. He smiled as he plucked his keys from the ceramic bowl filled with loose change. He entered the front office section of the stadium, whistling. Blood rushed through his veins.
Coach Bass was feeling sexy. Jo’s office was around the next bend.
Feminine laughter greeted his ears, making his grin wider. But the smile melted into a frown when his eyes beheld the scene before him. Jo, at her desk, a pen in her mouth, gazed up, laughing with Devon Drake, running back and womanizer. Pete followed Dev’s gaze, which rested on Jo’s cleavage.
Shit! He’s gonna take her for a ride. Coach Bass scowled at the young player as he flirted with Jo. Fuck. Twenty-four hours and I’m already too late.