Free Game, Set, Match (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (Love Match) by Nana Malone Page A

louder and harsher as she rounded the hallway.
    “You’re nothing but a small minded, little dicked, mother fucker, no wonder Izzy—”
    “What the hell is going on here?” Izzy interrupted in a rush cutting off the rest of Jessica’s tirade.
    They stood facing off over the reception desk, tension and anger crackling between them. If Izzy didn’t know better, she’d swear the tension was…sexual. Jessica’s colorful red poodle skirt and matching sweater set a good barometer for her mood. Simon’s ice blue tie shifted and gleamed, reflected the recessed lighting above as he loosened it. She looked like a sparkling firecracker and the look in his eyes bore frosty resentment.
    Izzy tried to keep her voice calm. “Is there a legitimate reason you’re shouting the studio down? Lucky for you there’s no one in here right now. What the hell is wrong with you two?”
    Both spoke at once.
    “She wouldn’t let me in to see you.”
    “He tried to bully his way past me.”
    She stared, incredulous. “You have got to be kidding me . What are you two? Children?” Before either could speak, she put up a hand. “Enough. Simon, I asked Jessica to keep everyone out, including you, so there’s no need to verbally lambaste her.” She turned to Jessica. “Thanks for doing your best, but next time, just come get me before it escalates. I can’t have a shouting match in here. There could have been customers.”
    Both of them stared at her with a mixture of anger, antagonism and angst.
    A red-faced Jessica muttered a brief apology, then bent to retrieve the discarded desk phone, paperweight and invoices from their scattered locations on the floor. Her contrite attitude toward Izzy didn’t translate to Simon, however. He stared at her bent over form, eyes half lidded. He drew in several deep breaths, before turning to face Izzy again. There was something in his expression, Izzy had never seen before—uncontrolled, almost primal.
    She dragged him back to her office determined to diffuse any potential flare-ups. Once ensconced in the relative privacy of the brightly lit room, she gave him her full attention. “You owe her an apology. I’d make sure you give it to her before you leave.”
    He stepped back as confusion lit his eyes. “Me? You’re going to make me apologize? She’s your assistant. She should know I have important matters to discuss with you, whether she likes it or not. And—”
    Izzy narrowed her eyes to slits. “She’s also my friend. She was doing her job so I could work. Apologize.”
    Izzy watched as the last of his annoyance seeped out of him, replaced with contrition.
    “Okay, you’re right. I was an ass. She just drives me crazy.”
    “Whatever it is, squelch it. I can’t deal with your squabbles and still get work done.”
    “Actually, that’s what I’m here about.”
    Izzy moved back to her light table. “What’s the urgent matter that couldn’t wait till this afternoon’s meeting with the publisher?”
    He quirked an eyebrow. “You mean besides you calling to back out of the photo shoot with Jason Cartwright?”
    Blood suffused her cheeks under his intense scrutiny. “Oh, that.”
    “Yeah. That pesky little photo shoot with  Sports Illustrated ? Why would you jump to that solution without talking to me first?”
    Yes, why had she tried to avoid talking to him? How was she supposed to explain working with Jason was a non-starter? Simon would read something into it. She opted for a safer excuse. “Look, I know you had to pull a lot of strings to get me the job, I just can’t manage it and the gallery opening. It’s too much.”
    “What is it you can’t handle? It’s a couple of shoots, Iz. This is  Sports Illustrated . They’ll do half the work for you. All you need to do is take glorious photos.”
    “I do more than that, Simon. I’m responsible for the art direction. I’m responsible for the mood, finding the stellar picture, looking into the soul of the subject.” If