Redhead Blitz (5 page)

Sean’s gaze moved from Patty to
Gigi’s
unoccupied desk.
 
It held numerous stacks, but at least they appeared neat and orderly.
 
A work in progress, but a vast improvement over the past couple weeks.

Patty stepped closer and lowered her voice.
 
“And you should’ve seen her handle Gloria earlier.”

Sean winced inwardly at the mention of the school principal’s assistant.
 
The woman couldn’t be more than five foot tall, but she ran the front office like General Patton.

Patty paused in the doorway as a stream of rowdy teenagers headed past toward the exit.
 
“I was coming out of a meeting in the conference room and saw the whole thing.
 
Gloria was actually smiling as she spoke to her.”

Sean felt his eyes widen.
 
“No, way.
 
I’ve used good manners I never knew I had with Gloria, and she still acts like I’m disturbing the order when I walk into the front office.”

Patty laughed, showing off the pink piece of gum cupped in her tongue.
 
“I know.
 
It isn’t fair.”
 
She cracked her gum again and lightly elbowed him in the ribs.
 
“Maybe we can ask
Gigi
to put in a good word with Gloria for us.”

As Patty left, Sean crossed to his mailbox but made no move to retrieve what was inside, still amazed by the
miracles
Gigi
had performed.
 
So, not only was she beautiful, but she was hard-working, efficient and personable.

Great.
 
More reasons to like her.
 
Why couldn’t she be a prima donna, or brainless?
 
Anything that would make it easier to turn her down.
 
Sean rubbed a hand down his face, not confident he’d be able to say no.

The sound of rapidly clicking heels brought his attention to the doorway.
 
Gigi
rushed into the room and to her desk, her arms loaded with files.
 
She bent to set the stack down and spotted him as she straightened.
 
Her one-hundred-watt smile dimmed to fifteen.
 
Damn.
 
He’d known this was going to be awkward.
 
Was she angry he hadn’t called?

Tongue-tied and suddenly remembering his erotic dream, all he could think of to say was hi.

“Hello, Sean.”
 
She picked up the top file from her stack and paused as if waiting for his response.

I wonder what color her bra is
?
 
No, don’t think about that
.
 
He swallowed.
 
Sean grabbed the junk mail out of his box, hoping that breaking eye contact with
Gigi
would bolster his resolve.
 
But the image of her naked—with those delectable curves, big green eyes and luscious lips—was burned into his brain.

“Busy day?”

Her voice drew him from his fantasy and he glanced back.
 
“Yeah.
 
How about you?”

“Very.
 
I met some of the other coaches and staff, and have started some of the ground work for keeping the department running smoothly.”

Sean pretended to flip through his mail, not really seeing one piece.
 
As
Gigi
turned to a file cabinet, the profile of her body made his mouth go dry.
 
Why did she have to be so damned sexy?
 
Turning her down was like refusing Novocain before a dentist started drilling.

Get it over with, you masochistic
sonofabitch
.

“
Gigi
, I—ah, I got the note that you left on my car yesterday.”

She looked up from the files with rounded eyes.

Sean hated embarrassing her.
 
“I wanted to tell you how flattered I am that you want to go out with me.”

Her brows furrowed.
 
This must be a first for her, having a guy tell her he’s not interested.

“But—”

“I mean, it’s not every day that a beautiful woman is so up-front about her interest in me.”

Gigi’s
cheeks, neck and—God help him—cleavage were turning red.
 
He was embarrassing her even more.
 
Double damn
.

“I see.”
 
Her lush lips tightened to a thin line.
 
Was she angry?
 
Well, she
was
probably used to being the one doing the rejecting.
 
He’d handled this all wrong.

“It’s just that this is a really busy time of year for me.
 
Maybe after football season is over we could have coffee.”
 
No, no.
 
No coffee, no nothing.
 
Al would hang Sean’s balls from his rearview mirror
.

Without answering,
Gigi
quietly closed the file cabinet and bent to open one of her desk drawers.
 
Sean looked down her top, and his throat constricted.
 
What was he supposed to do, gaze at the ceiling and whistle “The Star-Spangled Banner?”
 
Hell, he was a guy and her breasts were right there.
 
She pulled out her purse, straightened and rounded the desk.
 
He studied her movements closely, hoping her sizable brown bag wasn’t about to be swung upside his head.

As she passed and reached the doorway,
Gigi
turned to face him.
 
Yep. She was pissed.

“I understand.
 
Flip off the lights on your way out, will you?”

And then she was gone, leaving an icy chill in her wake and Sean feeling lower than the score of Butch
Turnell’s
last math quiz.

“I understand.
 
I understand you’re egotistical jerk.”
 
Gigi
roared down Lincoln Avenue in Heidi’s car with no particular destination in mind.

“I can’t believe he thought I was so desperate for a date that I’d leave my phone number on his windshield.”
 
She turned on Park Street.
 
Since there were no pedestrians in sight, only the fear of getting a speeding ticket in someone else’s car kept her from gunning it past Merriman’s window factory.

“The man is a moron, a complete and total idiot.”
 
She continued to fume until she realized she’d unconsciously driven to her favorite happy hour destination.

“Small chocolate shake,” she said into the Dairy Queen call-box.
 
Ah, the healing power of chocolate and ice cream.
 
By the time she pulled into a parking spot and took the first sip, her temper had cooled somewhat.
 
But there was no way she was going to bring up the real subject of the note with Sean now.
 
Eventually, he’d get a brain and figure out why she’d left it.
 
Why do people normally leave their names and phone numbers under windshield wipers?
 
Duh.
 
And the longer it took him to figure out, the more he’d feel like a big, dumb jock later.
 
That thought brought a smile, and the straw, to her lips.

Chapter Five

“I beg your pardon?”
 
Gigi
hit the save button on her keyboard and gave the caller on the phone her full attention.

“I have thirteen marching bands from the southern half of the state coming for a competition on the sixth,” the high school band director repeated.
 
“The middle school Web site says there’s an eighth grade home football game the same day.
 
I scheduled the field over a year ago.
 
There’s got to be a mistake.”

Gigi
could hear the frustration in the man’s voice.
 
“Let me check that for you.
 
Can you hold on a moment?”
 
She tucked the receiver between her chin and shoulder, then pulled the district facilities schedule up on her screen.
 
“I see the marching band competition on the sixth for the middle school field.”

“That’s not what I’m seeing.
 
It says eighth grade home football game.”
 
His tone sounded more strained than it had five seconds earlier.

“I’m sorry.
 
I was checking a different field schedule.
 
You’re on one of the middle school Web pages.”
 
Gigi
tried to brainstorm the problem and possible solutions.
 
Was the high school field available?
 
She pulled up that schedule to check.
 
No luck—
girl’s
soccer game.

“Let me speak with Al,” the band director said.

“I’m sorry.
 
Mr. Matthews is out for the remainder of the afternoon.”
 
She’d love to hand this one off.
 
It had been a productive Monday, with no major problems.
 
She’d successfully handled each small issue that had come along.
 
Plus a big one.
 
Fred, to be specific, who had planted himself in the office during his entire planning period.

“This competition is a major fundraiser for the music program.
 
I need this cleared up.
 
Yesterday
.”

Gigi
reminded herself not to take his anger personally.
 
“I understand.”
 
She wouldn’t stoop to telling the man it was only her second day on the job.
 
This was her first real test, and she wasn’t going to let Al Matthews down.

“I’d like to delve a little deeper into this.”
 
She wondered if the visiting football team’s school could host.
 
“I can get back to you first thing in the morning.”
 
Gigi
crossed her fingers.
 
“Great...Yes, I’ll do that.
 
First thing.
 
Thank you.”

She hung up the phone and frowned at the wall clock.
 
The school day was already over, but she couldn’t let that stop her.
 
She could ask Al in the morning, but she really wanted to handle the problem herself.
 
But where should she start?
 
She doubted she had the authority to call other school and change venues.
 
Asking Sean was one possibility, but she was still angry with him.
 
Fred?
 
As much as she didn’t want to encourage the man, this was all so new.
 
Maybe she needed a little help.
 
Picking up her pad, she headed toward the coaching office.

Sean heard the clicking of high heels just moments before
Gigi
appeared in the doorway.
 
One more minute and he would have been on his way to the stadium.
 
Part of him wished he’d made it out before seeing her, but another part of him, the lower part, was damned glad he’d needed to straighten a few things on his desktop.

Her gaze passed over him and around to the right side of the office.
 
He took the opportunity to scan her from head to toe.
 
Form-fitting purple sweater, black leather skirt, and black leather high heeled boots.
 
Didn’t the woman own any muumuus?
 
When
Gigi
took a step into the room to look toward the desks to the left, Sean noticed the off-center slit up the front of her skirt.
 
Yowzah
.
 
That sucker ran almost all the way up to the top of her right thigh.

His arousal was swift and uncomfortable.
 
Being a hands-on kind of coach meant he often wore a jock strap to practice so he could show the players various moves.
 
Hard-
ons
and jocks did not mix well.
 
He shifted in his chair and again wished he’d left the mess on his desk until morning.