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Second Chance: A Dark Bad Boy Romance by Kathryn Thomas (67)


 

Quinn

 

What had Daniel asked for?

 

An interview with Dante Rock.

 

What had I gotten him?

 

Not one, not two, not even three interviews with the man. I had gotten him as many as I would be able to have for the remainder of the season. I had basically gotten him Dante Rock himself. He might as well just move in with Dante because he was going to be hearing so much of him. I was so excited to tell him. I worked for Daniel. He was my boss. We had known each other for years, and I had risen through the ranks since I had been an intern. He had basically seen my trajectory as a reporter, and I knew he would be happy for me. If not happy, he would at least respect that I had gotten myself a mega story. At my media company, I was already considered one of the youngins. Somebody was always calling me kid and many people still mistook me for an intern.

 

This was huge for me. It was huge for the company, too. We would be able to come out with the most intimate and detailed profile of Dante Rock that had ever been seen. We were getting him at more or less the height of his career. He was a controversial and interesting character, and quite frankly, our objective—besides telling the news—was selling the news, and he would help us do that.

 

I had reported on athletes before, but there was a reason this was such a big deal. Dante was a force all on his own. He was the guy who people would call a legend in the future, and I was going to be one of the people helping him make history. When people in the future, biographers and historians, were looking for information about Dante, I would be a primary source.

 

This was such a big deal. Who had this much access to Dante Rock besides his family?

 

I knew Daniel would be expecting a lot—and he was about to get it and more.

 

I was so excited. The only people who tended to get access like this to the athletes were documentary makers who would follow them around with cameras. I had spent the last couple days sending emails to Dante’s people, telling them who I was and what I wanted. If Dante knew what was good for him, he had been telling them as well who I was and what he had agreed to do. I was fully expecting them to get back to me, or to Daniel and my other bosses to talk logistics and probably get a contract or something drawn up, but that was fine. I wasn’t nervous about that. I was excited about finally getting this opportunity.

 

I had so many ideas. There was the option to just serialize the interviews and make it like a journey that the reader would go on. It would document when Dante faced adversity and came out victorious at the end with his first championship win for the Charlotte Yellow Jackets. Why was I thinking so small, I could write a fucking book. I had to start carrying a camera around so I could start getting footage and pictures to accompany the writing. He was sensitive about filming and having cameras around, but that was fine. I would just warn him when I was about to get it out. There was part of me that was curious about why he was so skittish about the filming thing, but the other part of me wasn’t really all that bothered. He was a public figure, and I guess it was just natural that he was cautious about all the different ways his private life could be caught on tape. He would likely have me sign one or several non-disclosure agreements, which again was fine. Whatever he had to do to make himself comfortable. I was interested in him, but I wasn’t that interested. I wasn’t going to try and film a sex tape of him or something. Nope. That would have hurt me more than it would hurt him.

 

My last conversation with Dante had been on the basketball court at their last game. It had been just after the Yellow Jackets had won their game and just after that other thing that had happened. I didn’t want to think about it. The more I tried not to think about it, the more I thought about it. I remembered it, intensely. It would come back to me at the times when my mind was allowed to wander the most…like in the shower and just before bed when I would lay awake before falling asleep.

 

Sleeping with Dante had been a terrible mistake. Sleeping with Dante had been the worst thing I could have done in my position at a time like this. Sleeping with Dante, was the sort of thing that would turn into a career-ruining scandal if it came out. It wasn’t even sleeping together; we had been fucking. It was bareback, dirty, gross fucking in a locker room where anybody could have walked in and seen us. Saying we had slept together was just the way I wanted to think about it. It made it seem just that little bit less gross. Just put some nice dressing on a shit salad. I was supposed to be a reporter. I wasn’t supposed to sleep with my subjects.

 

Was there a bigger breach of ethics than this? It wasn’t like this was anything illegal, but it was wrong. It was a little gross using a person you had so much power over for sex. Okay, that was a little steep. I wasn’t using him for sex. If anything he was using me for sex.

 

I didn’t know how the thought made me feel. I had told him his rules, and no womanizing was one of them. I expected him to follow them, but to be perfectly honest, wouldn’t have been that surprised if he didn’t. I wasn’t his teacher. He wasn’t going to get detention for not following the rules, I just wanted him as clearheaded as possible, without distraction. I, to him at least, was going to be there to help him work his urges out, or whatever, which was a little polarizing to think about. It was just casual sex. People in their twenties and older… and younger too, had it all the time. It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t have it all the time, but still, not a big deal.

 

Why was I thinking that just because we had had sex one time, we had to keep doing it? It wasn’t like bleaching your hair where you then had to go back in and keep getting your roots colored. No. We could never go back and never have sex with each other in the first place, but we could never have sex again going forward.

 

That was it.

 

That would have been the better, and right thing to do in this situation. If you looked at it technically, our professional relationship, Dante’s and mine had only just begun. The first interview had happened without the cooperation of the team and his management. It was like it didn’t even count. I would totally use it though. However, as far as the two of us went, everything that had happened bar the interview could be stricken from the record.

 

If you ignored something long enough, it became invisible. That was one way all this could go. I could ignore it, forcing him to ignore it, too. If you ignored something for long enough though, it could get worse. Where did we fall? We weren’t a loose string in a sweater that left unchecked would unravel and ruin the whole garment. We were two adults who were more than capable of keeping their genitals to themselves. Attraction wasn’t like hunger; you wouldn’t die if it wasn’t fulfilled.

 

Dante Rock was by no means my first time, but he was the first that I had had in a little bit. Also, the first that I had had and felt that damn good. I think it was because we were in public. That was why it was so hot to think about. Anybody could have walked into that locker room and gotten the scoop of the century. Dante would have survived, but I would likely have ended up out of a job.

 

He had had nothing to work with but his body, and it had to still be one of the most erotic experiences of my life. No ambiance. No mood. No aphrodisiacs, no nothing. Just him and the weapon of mass destruction between his legs. We hadn’t even been naked, but there was a chance that I had never been hotter in my life. Just the solid size and girth of him stretching me out still made me wet when I thought about it. I didn’t regret it that much, but I regretted it a little.

 

For one thing, I could have maybe not let the man come inside of me. That had been irresponsible. Yes, I was on the pill, but I didn’t know where he had been, and he didn’t know where I had been. I had never in my life before then just believed a guy when he had said that he was clean so I would let him have raw sex with me. If someone really wanted it, they wouldn’t be above lying to get it. Dante had the money and reason to take care of himself, but still. That was not a shining moment for me.

 

I didn’t know why I was panicking so much. Who the hell said that Dante even wanted to do anything with me again? He had maybe hinted at it a little, but who said he was serious. I couldn’t treat him like he didn’t have a reputation. That was not something I could afford to do with this guy. He had one, and I had fallen for him anyway. I hadn’t fallen fallen, but I had crossed a line that was impossible to uncross. There was no way he was as worried about all of this as I was. He was used to fucking women—and ditching them—and I… I had to be that woman this time.

 

Focusing on the pieces I was going to run was more important than worrying about whether Dante Rock would ever feel horny enough to touch me again, and whether I would let him. I had to think about work, the same way I had made him cut out all distractions so that he could think about work.

 

I could talk to Dante all I wanted. What I had had to do next was make sure that his management knew what was going on. I wasn’t asking for much, just access to him for the rest of the season. The interviews would not take up any of the time that he had to dedicate to things like training, press, and actual games. He would be there for them when they needed him. All I needed was access to him for the rest of the time.

 

His agent was fully on board. He had sounded more excited by the thought than you would think he should have been. Maybe he thought this was a way to score Dante some brand deals or something. Talking to the coach and manager had been next. I also spoke to the person in charge of the Yellow Jackets’ public relations. As it turned out, they weren’t the biggest fans of the sort of stories about Dante that would tend to make it to the news and the blogs. They were all in agreement that the stories, a number, between three and five, based on the interviews could potentially be good for him, hence, for them.

 

They would also be good companion pieces to his success when he finally managed to help the Yellow Jackets get a championship. It would be his first, and I had all the rights to telling the story. That was real power. I couldn’t wait to tell Daniel. I had to wait though, just long enough for me to communicate with Dante’s people a little bit first. I wanted to look like I had my shit together.

 

I knocked on the door of his office and waited for him to call me in. It was always awkward doing that because his office had glass walls all around. Really, you didn’t have to knock because he could see when someone was at his door, but it was convention. I opened the door up and sat across from him, waiting for him to finish his phone call. He sounded like he was talking to someone from IT because he kept barking at them to talk in English.

 

Daniel Mathers was my direct superior. He was my boss. He was about as tall as I was when I wore heels but a lot more frantic. He never wore his suit jacket, and he always had his topmost button undone and his sleeves rolled up. The air around him seemed to tingle with manic energy at all times. He was live and yelled often. He slammed the phone down and looked at me. He leaned back in his seat.

 

“Quinn,” he said, smiling.

 

“Daniel. How are you?”

 

“I hope you have good news. How is the story on Rock coming?”

 

“I do have good news. I was there at their last game, and, well, you must have heard the news by now.”

 

“Yeah, I did. Some broad’s accusing him of beating on her. All speculation and rumor, but it’s getting around. She’s putting her feelers out. Tell me you got to talk to her.”

 

“I don’t want to talk to her; I want to talk to Dante. And I will.”

 

“Oh yeah? What do you have?”

 

“Unlimited access for the rest of the season. The arrangements are still being made, and we’ll have to wait for confirmation on a couple things, but Dante Rock is mine for the rest of the season, whenever and wherever I want to talk to him. They go on the road, I go on the road. They play home games, I go to them.”

 

“You got Dante to agree to this?”

 

“Mm-hmm,” I said sweetly.

 

“How?” he asked, obviously impressed.

 

“You heard about the woman, right? Well, Dante is desperate to clear his name, and I offered him a way to do that—on condition that I got to have him available to interview whenever I wanted.”

 

“What if he really did do it?” he asked.

 

He didn’t, but I wasn’t going to sit there and tell Daniel that because then I would have to tell him how I knew, probably sharing a lot of stuff Dante had told me in confidence.

 

“If he is, then I am going to run him into the ground.”

 

“No mercy, huh?”

 

“None.”

 

Daniel was like one of the guys from Mad Men. He drank a lot, and he called me ‘doll’ or ‘sweetie’ sometimes. He was kind of gross sometimes, but he always gave credit where it was due. He probably wouldn’t have been able to swing what I had managed to swing with Dante Rock and he realized that and gave me credit for the fact that I had been able to.

 

The opportunity really had just fallen into my lap and all I had had to do was grab it before it slipped out of my reach. Was it exploitative of a man in need? What news wasn’t? This was going to help him in the long run. If anything, he owed me one.

 

“I’m impressed, Quinn. Good job.”

 

“I know.” I got up to leave.

 

“Hey, Quinn, hold on a second,” he said.

 

“What?”

 

“Sit down. Just sit for a second,” he said. I sunk back into the seat. What did he want? Was I in trouble? Was he about to take the assignment from me and give it to someone else? I knew I was young and had been working for a shorter time than most, but I wasn’t giving up this opportunity. No way.

 

“It’s probably better if you…”

 

“If I what?”

 

“You’re young and attractive, Quinn, just be careful.”

 

“I’m always careful. This isn’t the Gaza strip; it’s sit-down interviews with Dante Rock.”

 

“All I’m saying is that you should keep your distance.”

 

I smiled tightly. It was a little too late for that now, wasn’t it? I mean the last time we had been in a room together alone, we’d had sex. That was a line we had crossed already; we couldn’t go back and reverse that. I wasn’t ashamed or anything, but it wasn’t my best moment.

 

In addition to that, Daniel asking me to be careful… that was sweet of him, but I could handle myself. I wasn’t as wet behind the ears as he maybe thought. I had gotten an idea of the sort of man that Dante Rock was, and I had experienced his… his what? Seduction?

 

“I know what I’m getting into; you have nothing to worry about.”

 

“If he harasses you, we can assign someone else to do the series.”

 

“I don’t want anyone else to do the series.”

 

I thought about it. The man was just being dramatic. He was protective, and I could sort of see why. He thought I was young and I was going to be put in a potentially dangerous position. There was likely also the thought that I wouldn’t actually get any reporting done and I would just, I don’t know, spend the entire time fucking Dante Rock only for him to leave me in the end, bereft and storyless.

 

There was also the chance that he was just trying to cover his ass a little bit. I was a chick after all. If something was to happen and I was to accuse Dante of anything, he would be dragged into it and affected whether he wanted to or not and whether he was involved or not.

 

“Everything is going to be fine. I know how to handle myself.”

 

“And Dante Rock doesn’t.”

 

“If he doesn’t, then he's about to learn.”

 

“I just don’t want you getting into trouble.”

 

Daniel didn’t want me getting into trouble. I didn’t know what that meant. I mean, I knew what that meant, but I didn’t know what he had in mind. I hoped he didn’t think I was going to be the girl that fell in love with Dante Rock while I was supposed to be reporting on him and ended up with my heart broken because he was a wild young buck who wasn’t about to let any old girl with a clipboard and a camera tie him down.

 

He needed to chill. I would have sex with Dante again. I knew I shouldn’t and that it was wrong to want to, but if the opportunity arose and my defenses were down, I would say yes if he offered. That was just the truth. I was not, however, dumb enough to fall for him. What was there to fall for? I had seen a glimmer of honesty and realness when we had talked, but that was all it had been. A glimmer. He was a hoop-shooting Neanderthal the rest of the time, and that glimmer was not enough to reflect on his personality as a whole. Did I have to tell Daniel that the man was my literal subject and I was reporting on him? A relationship between us that was more than professional would have been unseemly.

 

“I’m young, Daniel, but not that young. You have nothing to worry about.”

 

“I just don’t want you falling in love with Dante Rock and leaving us. Then we’d have to replace you,” he joked.

 

I wasn’t going anywhere. I was coming back, with a story series on Dante Rock so good, Daniel would wonder why he had even doubted me in the first place.