Page 3 of The Problem with Playboys

“That’s all there is. A framed photograph of you, a few bottles of perfume and some jewelry. My dad loves to buy women jewelry. He’s such a sap.”

Chloe’s shoulders dropped slightly and she shook her head. “How I love the fact that she sent me all the way out here for a box that could’ve simply been put in the mail.”

“Well, look at the bright side. My dad did the same thing to me. He didn’t trust one of his staff to deal with this and he wasn’t willing to do it himself.”

Chloe turned back to him and smiled. It sucked the breath right out of him. “You know, that does actually make me feel better. Just knowing that I’m not the only one in this boat.”

Parker spread his arms wide. “Welcome to the boat. We have hot and cold running parental guilt, sizable trust funds, all the bourbon you can drink and, if you’re lucky, a big fat inheritance when it’s all said and done.”

A quiet laugh left Chloe’s lips. “Very clever. And quick. No wonder people say you’re murder to negotiate with.”

Parker felt a flush of heat color his cheeks. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked down at the ground. “I do right by my clients. That’s all.”

“You just signed Marcus Grant, didn’t you?”

Parker was intrigued that she knew any details of his business at all. “Do you follow sports?”

“Not football. I’m more of a basketball girl. But I know lots of alumni from the prep school Marcus attended. It’s not far from where I went, and I do follow the news, very closely. Occupational hazard.”

“Ah. I see. Well, good to know word has gotten around about Marcus.”

“His star is really on the rise. Big rookie contract, even bigger signing bonus, multimillion-dollar endorsements.”

His attraction to Chloe was only growing. “Wow. You really pay attention, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “I never know when there’s a potential new client around the corner. Athletes do have a habit of getting themselves into hot water.”

Parker shook his head with as much vigor as he could muster. He felt fiercely protective of his biggest client. “No way. Not Marcus. The guy is clean as a whistle. Works like a beast, doesn’t do the club scene, goes to church on Sunday. He doesn’t drink or do drugs or any of the stuff your clients do.”

Chloe frowned at him and crossed her arms. In the world of body language, she was shutting herself off from him, but he didn’t see it that way—his eyes were only drawn to the gentle swell of her breasts. “Some of my clients are innocent of the things the tabloids or press accuse them of. And even when they’ve committed an actual crime, no person is a saint. Being a celebrity, in particular, can be very stressful. The entire world is watching, all the time. It’s impossible to not have even a small hiccup.”

“Not for Marcus. He’s on the straight and narrow, and cashing in on his immense talent.”

“Meaning you’re cashing in as well.”

Parker shrugged. “Of course. I’m his agent. You know, even if my client wasn’t so straitlaced, I don’t understand the obsession with having a perfect reputation. So what if you did something wrong? Let it go and move on. The rest of the world will do that eventually.”

“That’s not always true. A person’s reputation is immensely important. It can impact their professional life, their earning potential, their family. It can even make their love life a nightmare. Damage control is a worthwhile pursuit.”

He still wasn’t done shrugging off Chloe’s argument. “I don’t see the point.”

A frustrated grumble left her throat. Parker found it incredibly sexy. He wanted to know if he could kiss away that noise. Claim her mouth with his and make her forget why she was mad. Or even better, take it out on him in bed. “That’s my entire business. You don’t see me insulting your career.”

“What’s there to criticize about being a sports agent? It’s an entirely legitimate line of work. One with decades of history, I might add.”

“I assure you my business is totally aboveboard.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t. If you can convince people to give you piles of money for what you do, more power to you.”

Chloe walked over to the box and picked it up. “I’m leaving.”

Parker held out his arms. “Here. Let me carry that for you.”

Chloe turned away from him, leaving the box out of his reach and Parker with a nose full of her heavenly perfume. “I’m fine. I can handle it on my own.”

Parker wasn’t about to fight with her. He knew he’d annoyed her with his commentary about her career, but he was just being honest. He wasn’t going to adopt an opinion that wasn’t his own simply because he wanted to make her feel better. “Whatever you say.”

She marched off to the door, but quickly seemed to realize that she couldn’t hold the box and make a graceful exit on her own. Parker hustled over to turn the knob for her. His chest brushed her shoulder. Another shock ran through him. He loved that he’d stirred up her anger, but the attraction was still there. That was the stuff of a red-hot connection. Dry kindling just waiting for someone to strike a match. “Goodbye, Parker,” Chloe snapped as she stepped out onto the landing.

“Bye, Chloe. It was nice meeting you. I hope we run into each other sometime soon.”

“Yeah. Right.” She didn’t bother to look back at him, simply rushed down the stairs as her driver ran around the side of the car to retrieve the box from her.

Parker stood in the doorway, watching Chloe climb into her car. Damn, she was so much more beautiful in person than he’d bargained for. In some ways, it was a good thing that they hadn’t met until the divorce between their parents was close to its conclusion. He would’ve struggled with the attraction between them much more when she really was his stepsister, even if it had only been on paper.

Chloe’s car pulled away, and Parker closed the door and went to make himself a drink. He’d just dropped the ice cubes into his glass when he got a text. Was it from Chloe? The thought filled him with a distinct sense of satisfaction. He fished his phone out of his pocket.

It wasn’t Chloe.

The message was from Marcus.We have a problem.