Jimmy

Another headline. What else was new?

You’d think reporters could focus on the important things in the world. But they loved to write about me, Jimmy Hall, the best pitcher in the league . . . especially when I got caught screwing up.

Thanks to the incriminating pictures from my last trip to Vegas, the team’s general manager assigned me a branding expert. I was ready to tell him I was fine on my own, but then my expert walked in, and I practically forgot my own name.

Sommer Bennett had curves in all the right places and lips that could make a man stupid. Too bad she couldn’t stand me. Even worse, she was the owner’s granddaughter, making her off-limits.

Or was she?

Sommer

When Granddad said he had a job for me, I couldn’t have been more excited. I pictured myself as the vice president of player relations or next in line to take over the Hawks. Instead, he wanted me to babysit the most arrogant player on the team: Jimmy Hall.

It didn’t matter that the man was drop-dead gorgeous or had the most strikeouts in the league. He was a PR nightmare—and now my nightmare. I’d graduated top of my class and have a master’s in business, yet I still needed to prove myself. Jimmy Hall would not be the reason I didn’t get the title I deserved. I just couldn’t fall for his charm.

Some things are easier said than done.

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