Interference - Unsigned Paperback

Be the star of a dating show? No thanks.

But apparently, I can be persuaded by a pretty face.

Agreeing to meet up with Sydney Meadows was supposed to be a means to an end. A way to give her the meeting her boss requested, but still say ‘no’ to her pitch.

Look, I’ve never wanted the extras that come with an NHL career.

Sponsorships, sure.
Reality television? Hard no.

Except—now that I’ve met the pixie redhead—I find myself agreeing...with one stipulation.

She gets to be part of the show in whatever way that allows me to see her again.

Twenty female “contestants” be damned.

Note from the Author: This is the second edition of Interference. Please know, if you have the original Interference, you do not need this edition. Any and all changes that have been made were incredibly minor. If you're new to me and my Love In All Places world, welcome to the family!

Excerpt:

“So,” Sydney said, sitting across from me the next morning at one of the many non-chain coffee houses near Jonny and my condo. Today she was wearing a flowy black skirt with a white fitted tee that hugged her slight chest, and one of those chunky belts. The belt was that orangey cognac brown—the only brown, my sisters had informed me once, that could be paired with black. Her red hair was down around her shoulders today, showing off blonds and browns in the wavy, long tresses. If I thought she was pretty yesterday…

Damn, I wasn’t prepared for today.

Unlike most women I met, she appeared to wear minimal makeup, something I couldn’t fully tell in the dim light last night. Her complexion was that peaches and creamlike color people typically attributed to redheads, but only her nose and cheekbones were dusted with light freckles. I could see a few others along her collar bone sprinkling near her covered shoulders, too.

While she was dressed to the nines, I had shown up in a comfortable choice of jeans that I’d had for probably the better part of three years, and a hooded sweatshirt, sleeves pushed up to my elbows.

“My job is to find you your potential…dates, girlfriend, wife, whatever it is you’re trying to get out of this show,” Sydney continued. “Rather than going about this in a completely random fashion, I thought I’d start off by hearing your preferences.”

“My preferences?” I slid back to slouch a bit in my chair, reaching both hands out to wrap around my coffee cup.

“Yes. Height, build, hair, et cetera, et cetera,” she answered, picking up her legal pad only to put it back down, slightly angled this time. She slid her pen off the top of the pad and flipped it once in her left hand before clicking the end, extracting the tip.

So she was a lefty. Different.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she prompted.

I sighed heavily, a grin tugging my lips. “My preferences…” I reiterated before truly beginning. I kept my gaze on Sydney while spewing off my ideal woman—or what had been my ideal before a short, sexy redhead walked into my life the day prior because at this moment, I’d do anything for a date with her.

“Tall. Nothing more than a foot difference. Did that once.” Though, truth be told, in some ways it made sex more exciting. It was easier to work against a wall or in a shower with a shorter chick.

I watched for any change of expression on her face, but she wrote what I said with nilch, nada, nothing showing. Ok, then, I thought.

“Never really had a thing for redheads,” I said, forcing a fake grimace of apology but she never looked. Again, no reaction.

And now for the big guns. I supposed it wasn’t a nice spot to play, on account of some women being self-conscious about it, but, “Definitely have to have more than a handful to work with.”

This time she did look up, a quizzical look on her face. “A handful?”

“You know...” My voice trailed off as I raised my hands slightly out in front of my chest. I threw in a hand squeeze with both balls of air.

Sydney’s eyes flicked from my hands down to her own chest, then back to her legal pad so quickly I thought it may not have happened.

But there it was, that pink in her cheeks.

Got her.

It almost killed me to not grin in victory.

“You seem to have rather large hands, Mr. Prescott,” she muttered, “but I’ll try my best.”