"Bye Gunther. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll get started."
"Yeah, okay." He said and turned to look at the ocean. At what point in this conversation had he agreed to working with Adalyn Finney? And how had the last twelve hours spiraled so out of control?
Damn it. He wasn't sure what was worse, the lies from the tabloid or the look of disappointment in Addie's face as she walked out.
One thing he was sure of, he needed to win Addie back. It wasn't an instant love attraction, exactly. It was ten years of pent up emotions that he hadn't even realized he had until they had locked eyes again. Her hurt, was his hurt and vowed to be a better man because she deserved a better man.
Mission: Win Addie Back.
4
Addie had been blindsided when Gun asked her out three days ago when she left his apartment. She had had a speech and a very-organized game plan prepared for him, but she never had the chance to go over it. Instead, they'd engaged in a screaming match on his balcony. She needed to rein things in and get back in control of the situation. She knew he was hot-tempered, always had been, but he seemed to be even more short-fused now. So, she was giving him some time to cool off. It was Friday and not an ideal day to go over her plan, anyway.
She decided to try another route and sent him a cordial email.
Gunther,
I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot earlier this week. I am here to help. Not to make things harder for you. I'd like to set up an appointment with you on Tuesday. We could have lunch and discuss my plans. If that is acceptable for you, there is a Panera around the corner from my office. Would noon work for you? My treat—consider it a peace offering.
Sincerely,
Adalyn
Perfect, she thought. Friendly, yet professional. She hit send and went back to trying to reach potential new clients. Clients being a loose word because Wayne basically signed the majority of players up for the program after they'd screwed up—and that was just at the Miami Tornadoes. Other franchises had begun hearing about the program and enrolling their players. The players were then going to be assigned to either Addie or Sonia, Addie's counterpart. Ultimately the goal was to get the players to sign up on their own because they wanted help, not because they felt obligated.
A few minutes later she heard the ding of an incoming email.
Dinner. Monday. I pay.
What the hell?
Was he a Neanderthal? If it wasn't for his email address, she wouldn't even know it was Gun who'd sent it.
Gun,
I thought I made it clear that my relationship with you is strictly professional and dinner is too intimate. I’m trying to schedule a business lunch to talk about your finances. Please let me know when you're able to meet.
Adalyn
Not even a minute later.
Dinner. Monday. You pay, then.
She grunted into the screen.
Addie looked up to see Sonia standing by her door with her purse in her hand. "Hey, Adalyn, how'd your first week go?" But she must've noticed Addie's current agitated state and quickly added, "That bad, huh?"
"Yep. That bad."
"You're new to town, I bet you don't have many friends here. There's a small charity event at Lawson's Brewery for some homeless shelter. A few of the team members will be there, it'll be a good way to meet new people that can possibly turn into new clients and also a great way to have a drink and unwind. Come with me."
It wasn't as if Addie had anything else to do but stew in her bad mood— alone.
"Okay sure. Thanks. Let me just send this quick email and I'll follow you out.”
She responded to Gun’s last email:
I'll concede to dinner. But on Tuesday. I pay.
She knew that she already had something on Monday night and also, she needed at least a little victory over Gun who wanted to steamroll everything. Without bothering to wait for a reply, she hit send, turned off her computer, grabbed her purse and walked out with Sonia.
Gun chuckled as he read Addie's last email.
Dinner. Tuesday. I pay.
She'd always been hardheaded and proud; apparently, that hadn't changed. He could picture her now, smiling at the screen victoriously. Monday or Tuesday...no matter. They were going out, and that's all he cared about. He hated that it would mean he wouldn't see her for another four days or so, add that to the three days he already hadn't seen her...and damn it if he wasn't eager for Tuesday night to come. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Jeff had booked a weekend full of activities for him. All charitable kinds of events that Jeff told him he had to attend in order to soften the blow from all the media attention of late. Truthfully, he didn't mind attending charitable events that actually did some good. The one tonight, though, was a bullshit reason to drink and rub noses with dull politicians and socialites. No one ever opened up their wallets; it was more for attention than for the charity, and that was something he loathed.
Unfortunately, he had to attend. He had to show Wayne that he was a serious player. Playing football wasn't only about glory and payday for hitting your stat incentives, or so he’d learned the hard way, it was also about public image.
Gun was assaulted by the heat as soon as he stepped out of his Ferrari and handed the valet his keys. He pulled on the lapel of his sports coat and grunted as he opened the door to Lawson's Brewery. The heat was stifling, but the flashes from cameras on his face were just plain ol' irritating.
Someone took his elbow and shuffled him to the side. "You're supposed to smile, not look like you want to punch someone in the balls."
Gun pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked a few times. "Fuck you, Jeff. I'm here aren't I?" he said to his friend who had a fake smile plastered on his face. "God, when did the paparazzi get so vicious?" he asked as he walked toward the bar with Jeff.
"They've been vicious this whole time. You just happened to have stayed under the radar and hadn't noticed. But now with all your recent antics, you've got their attention and they've come after you with guns blazing—no pun intended. They’re all over you with neon fucking lights, buddy. So, you better fucking smile and pretend you give a shit about the homeless problem in the community."
"I do give a shit about the homeless problem. I don't, however, give a flying fuck about any of these pretentious assholes who come to these things and never donate a fucking dime. All they want is the damn photo op."
A squeeze on his shoulder cut his rant short. He turned around to find Connor Rollings, the newest addition to the Tornadoes, and Jack Maroney, another teammate who looked as uncomfortable at this event as he did. "Yo, man, glad to see another familiar face," Connor said.
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Gun pulled up a barstool and signaled for the bartender, a young pretty woman in her early twenties who seemed to be starstruck. "Hey honey, how about four beers."
"I'm good. I'm going to go mingle. Be ready to socialize, McCall," Jeff said in his agent tone before walking away.
"Make that three beers. Coldest you have on tap," Gun corrected and the bartender smiled shyly as she poured the beers.
"So how long you think we have to stay here?" Jack asked Gun.
"I don't know, an hour or so. Make these assholes happy, get some photos in. I’ll write a big check, and then I dip."
"Gotcha."
"Well at least we get a nice view." Connor said looking at something over Gun's shoulder.
He shifted to look back and said, "Yeah, sometimes you get an occasional hot socialite or daughter of—Sonofabitch!”
Addie.
She was in another one of those tight-as-fuck knee- length skirts that melted into her curves like butter, but this time in black with a blue blouse and nude- colored high heels. She stood with a flute of champagne in her hand talking to three men Gun didn't recognize and a woman, who Gun vaguely remembered seeing a few times at team meetings.
"Damn it!" he murmured when Addie's hand went on the man's forearm and she began to laugh, loudly.
"More lik
e, hot damn!" Connor snickered.
Gun ignored his buddies, set the beer down, and walked over to the group.
The man closest to Addie, the one still being touched by her, the one that Gun wanted to punch in the face, saw Gun approach first.
"Oh, wow. What a treat. Gun McCall." He turned to the other men and explained. "This is the Tornadoes’ wide receiver. He has two Super Bowls under his belt." As the men went on to recount Gun's accolades, Gun's eyes drifted down to where Addie's hand was on the man’s forearm. As if it was on fire, she quickly pulled it back and then Gun looked up at her, her face surprised. "I'm Roger Ervine, State Rep., district forty-four and these are some colleagues who flew down for the weekend, Monroe and Luis.”
Disengaging from the stare-down he was currently having with the maddening woman, he slowly turned his face and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you," he said, gravely.
"And we've just had the privilege of meeting these beautiful ladies, Sonia and Adalyn."
Sonia reached over Addie, "Mr. McCall pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of...interesting things about you." Gun took her hand and shook it and then turned to Addie. "All great things, I'm sure," he said, sarcastically.
Sonia snorted, "Yeah, great."
He then turned to Addie. "Adalyn, it's nice to see you again." She extended her hand and he took it, holding on to it longer than was necessary, his thumb rubbed a few times against her wrist before he let it go.
“We were just telling these ladies about our meeting this morning with the Mayor. What a character.” Roger said. “Anyway, I’ll be back, I have to go rub elbows with district forty-one,” he said pointing behind him. “And I think you’re being summoned as well, Mr. McCall.” Roger pointed to Jeff, who was waving at Gun.
Before he walked away, Gun whispered into Addie’s ear, “That fucking skirt, Addie. Jesus, the things I want to do to you—you can't be wearing anything underneath—”
“I should slap you right here, in front of all these people,” she hissed.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He winked. “I’d fuckin’ love it. Don’t remember you liking to get rough, but I don't mind baby.”
“Gunther—”
“Uh oh, gotta run,” Gun said, looking at an impatient Jeff walking their way and leaving Addie tongue-tied and cute as ever.
The next thirty minutes were a whirlwind of handshaking and camera ops. His face hurt from all the fake smiling. After the crowd had died down, a few choice people had made speeches, and a lot of drinks had been consumed, Gun went back to the bar, where he found Connor and Jack.
"I'm done with being here." Jack groaned.
"One more drink, then I'm out too." Gun said and the guys agreed to stay for one more beer. Connor signaled for the bartender and ordered a round.
"Swear to God, I spoke to every single goddamn person in this room except for her." Jack said pointing at Sonia who looked as if she was getting ready to leave with Addie.
"Did you want to talk to her?" Gun asked.
"Fuck yeah. Look at her." The man had rainbows and goddamn glitter floating around his eyes as he stared at Sonia.
"So, grow a pair and go talk to her." Gun said.
"He won't talk to girls. He's painfully awkward. Tried hooking him up with my sister's friend and he stammered the entire time." Connor added.
"Shut up!" Jack playfully shoved Connor's shoulder. "I'm not awkward I'm just shy. The women in Kentucky weren't as forward as they are here."
Gun looked at the kid and brought back a wave of nostalgia. Connor was younger than Jack, but he had game and confidence. Jack, in his mid-twenties, was shy and quiet. He had come to Miami last year and had played a hell of a game, kept to himself and rarely attended events. He remembered those first years after being drafted and how hard it was to fit in.
Gun looked back out at the small crowd and hollered. "Addie, baby, come 'ere."
Addie, baby. That had always been the name he used. Always. It went together. But they'd just re-met after so many years and he hadn't meant to say it. It had just slipped out. She stopped and turned to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed tightly together.
He crooked his fingers. "Come on. We won't bite. Bring your friend with you."
"What are you doing, man?" Jack hissed quietly.
"Relax buddy."
* * *
Addie looked across the room at the caveman summoning her. She narrowed her eyes, then turned away. He stood and walked to where she was. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
"I'm sorry, did you just yell across a room for me to come over here? Your Highness couldn't be bothered to stand up and walk over and find me?"
"You know, since I've seen you again, you've been nothing but pissy. Do you mind joining us for a second please?"
With a hand on her waist, she scowled, "I have not been pissy," she said as she followed him to the bar. He signaled for the bartender and ordered five shots of Tequila.
"Have so."
"Really? Did I look 'pissy' when I was talking to Roger, who was very charming, by the way."
Low-fucking-blow.
He growled and glared at her.
"Well wow. Talk about sexual tension." Sonia said with a high-pitched whistle. “Any who…I'm Sonia Pines, this is Adalyn Finney or Addie, I guess." She said to Jack and Connor.
“Nice to meet you, Sonia,” Connor said, and Jack merely smiled, awkwardly.
"So, I hear you guys go way back," Sonia said to Gun.
"Oh, is my girl saying sweet nothings about me?" Gun teased.
Sonia skewed her face. "Exactly! Except less of the sweet and more of the nothing."
The group all threw their heads back in laughter—including Gun. Sonia was so funny and outgoing, there was no way that poor Jack stood a chance.
The one drink turned into three more rounds and two hours. They all laughed and talked about nothing in particular while Jack awkwardly tried his hand at flirting. At one point, it was so obvious he had a crush on Sonia that Sonia put him out of his misery (or made him more miserable) and sat on his lap, pinched his cheeks, and ran her hand through his hair. Poor Jack didn't know where to put his hands, and his face was beet-red. Shamelessly, she took his hands and placed them on her shoulders. "Sweetheart, why don't you massage here for a bit?" She said wiggling on his lap, causing Jack to groan and the group to laugh harder. Even through all the teasing, Sonia did seem interested on the six-two, shy linebacker.
"You know, I can show you around Miami this week if you'd like," Connor said to Addie, and that's what halted the entire evening. Gun practically heard the screeching noise in his head. There was no way in hell that she was going to go anywhere with Connor.
"Oh…uh. Well, that's a nice offer but it's just that I don't really have much spare time."
"Oh, come on. Everyone has a few hours they can set aside for fun," Connor continued.
"I'm sure I will, eventually. But, right now it's all work," she said as her hand went the straw in her drink.
He was glad she had said no because he liked Connor, he really did. And, he didn't want to have to kill the kid. The team needed the offensive lineman, after all.
"So, anyway, it's getting late and I have a big day planned tomorrow," Addie said.
"You do?" Gun asked a little faster than he intended.
"Yeah, I'm finally going to unpack. I’ve been procrastinating but I refuse to live one more day with boxes in my bedroom." She took one last sip of her drink before pushing her chair back to stand. The noise caused Sonia and Jack, who'd been cozying up, to separate. She whispered something to Jack whose face was now an ungodly shade of red.
Sonia hopped up from Jack's lap. "Ready to go?" she asked Addie.
"Yep."
"See you 'round, sugar." She said to Jack with a wink and then waved at Gun and Connor.
Gun stood, “Doesn’t the no-fraternization rule apply to you?” he asked Sonia.
“He’s not my client,” she said, coyly.<
br />
Gun chuckled. "Bye ladies."
Addie waved and began to walk away.
"See you Monday!" he hollered.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. Yes, it was a small victory. He laughed before sitting back down with his friends. He had a date with Addie in just a few days.
5
It was Monday evening. All day he'd thought about Addie. He'd emailed, texted, and called, but all his efforts had remained unanswered. She had said Tuesday, but he never thought she was serious about that, especially after that flirty little smile she'd given him, Friday night.
Why would she stand him up?
He had spent a few hours at the gym in the morning, had several meetings, and then went for a long run along the beach. After a quick shower he walked downstairs to grab some dinner, irritated by the fact that he had, in fact, been stood up.
As he walked out of the pizza shop, the pie in his hand, a familiar voice caught his attention right by the entrance of his building. A voice he'd know anywhere.
Addie was walking into Steel, one of the most expensive restaurants in a city where most restaurants were expensive. And the woman, the infuriatingly beautiful spitfire of a woman, was walking in with George. Her laughter was infectious and the fact that she was dressed up in a short black dress with her red waves cascading down her shoulders with his friend, after ignoring him for three days, made Gun see red. "Adalyn? George?" He hollered just as they were about to walk in, causing both of them to stop abruptly.
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