JACK KILBORN ~ ENDURANCE Read Online Free PDF

Please.”
    “ I’ll need to find the number. I’ll be right back.”
    Franklin waddled off. Deb turned away from the check-in counter and faced the lobby. It was crammed full of people. Some of them spectators. Several of them reporters, complete with video cameras and microphones. A few of the women were obviously athletes, and Deb considered approaching some of them, asking if they’d like to share a room. But she didn’t move.
    Deb valued her privacy. Social situations were painfully awkward for her.
    Which is why she quickly turned away when she saw the man staring.
    Men stared at her all the time. So did women. And kids. Even animals did, somehow able to sense something was wrong with her.
    But this man wasn’t gawking. He had a playful smile on his face, and his eyes crinkled when she caught him looking.
    This wasn’t a gawker. This was a flirt.
    Deb preferred the gawkers. She unconsciously glanced down at her cosmetic legs. They were covered by sweatpants. Unless someone was paying close attention, they couldn’t tell, even when she was walking.
    “ Hello.”
    The voice startled her, and she turned around. Mr. Flirt was in her personal space, less than a foot away from her, a sly grin on his face. Deb noted his breath smelled like cinnamon, and he was even cuter up close. Strong chin with a bit of stubble. A roman nose. Neatly cut hair, dark and parted on the side. Sort of like a younger George Clooney.
    “ Can I help you?” Deb’s voice came out clipped, and a bit squeaky.
    “ Are you Debra Novachek?”
    “ Who wants to know?”
    “ Mal Deiter. Sporting Digest. My office has been in touch.”
    He offered his hand.
    So he’s not a flirt. He’s a reporter. Which means he knows about my legs.
    Deb didn’t know if that made it less awkward, or more awkward. For some reason, she had pictured a woman interviewing her. Or some pudgy old man. Not someone good-looking.
    Good-looking guys made her nervous.
    “ Nice to meet you, Mr. Deiter.” She took his hand and shook it hard, businesslike, then quickly pulled away. “They seem to be having some trouble finding me a room here.”
    “ I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “ If you’re really sorry, you can give me your room.”
    “ I would, Ms. Novachek, if I had one. But I’m already doubled up with my photographer.” He pointed to a portly man with a very large camera in his hands, shooting people in the lobby. “That’s Rudy. Great talent, but a terrible roommate. He snores so loudly he can loosen your fillings. I’m going to wind up on the lobby sofa if I want to get any rest tonight.”
    He smiled, and it was a dynamite smile. Deb wondered why he worked for a magazine when he had a face for TV. She decided against asking, not wanting to compliment him and risk it sounding like a come-on.
    Not that Deb could even remember what it was like coming on to a guy.
    The manager returned. “The Rushmore Inn does have a few rooms left for tonight. I took the liberty of making you a reservation and drawing you a map. We’re also covering the cost of your room there. It will be free of charge.”
    Deb bit back thanking him, instead saying, “I have a GPS. I don’t need a map.”
    He pushed the paper toward her. “It’s really out of the way. I doubt the Inn, or even the road, is on the GPS.”
    “ How long will it take to get there?”
    “ An hour. Maybe an hour and a half at the most.”
    Deb clenched her jaw. Her mood worsened when she saw the cute reporter furtively eyeing her legs.
    She slapped her hand on the map and picked it up.
    “ Again, we really apologize for this inconvenience.” The manager smiled, but this time it seemed more cruel than sympathetic. “I hope to see y’all tomorrow, Miss Novachek.”
    Deb raised an eye at the manager’s sarcastic tone. She let it slide, instead turning to the reporter.
    “ I’m sorry, Mr. Deiter. This isn’t going to work.”
    “ Call me Mal.”
    “ Mal, I know we were going to do the interview