My Second Chance Player: A Romantic Comedy (Beaky Tiki Series Book 2)

by Elyse Riggs

  There’s a whirl of black hair as Kaylee’s head whips from me to Jake and then back again. "Oh shit, Fi. We're too late. This is exactly what we came here trying to avoid."

  Without another word, I cross the room to check on the animal in the blanket.

  Fi crosses to Jake with me and jumps in front, making the sign of the cross with her fingers. "Back, foul beast. Turn right around and take your tight ass out of here."

  Jake freezes.

  I push my way past everybody, professional instinct kicking in. It doesn't matter that I have a history with Jake Mann. It doesn't matter that he broke my heart or that he's the last person I want to see tonight. Or next week. Or ever.

  In fact, I could live my entire life without this stupid, unhappy little reunion he is forcing on me now. But I don't have that luxury.

  "What happened?" I ask.

  "Car accident," he says, his face tight with emotion probably only I can read.

  He's tense, and he looks as surprised to see me as I am to see him. It's clear that he didn't walk in here on purpose. His blond hair is longer than it was before. "I couldn't leave him there on the side of the road. I think he has a real chance. A better one with you taking care of him."

  I take the blanket from him gently and whisper soothing words to the pup. The poor thing looks like a lab mix, maybe eight months old. It’s probably in shock because it doesn't even whimper at the exchange.

  "Angie," Jake says, his voice almost a whisper, "I didn't know."

  I inhale his scent. Cedar, I think. And some kind of musk. Either way it’s intoxicating. And up close, he’s sexy as hell with his blond hair, chiseled jawline, and biceps for days. I don’t need a reminder of how sexy he is. I used to have every inch of him memorized.

  All I know now is that I have to get the hell out of here. Now. Because I might have light to mega cyber-stalked him over the years.

  And every time I did, he was dating another celebrity or underwear model. Jake Mann is the guy I spent years thinking was my soul mate. But that was before.

  And knowing what I know now, I'm not stupid enough to lose my heart to him a second time. No matter how sexy he is. The jaw of every woman in the room is hanging open as they stare in his direction, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off me.

  Now he stands there staring and has the nerve to say he didn’t know I was here? "You didn't know what? That I did what I said I was going to do? That I finished vet school, came back and tried to make a difference in the world? Just like I said I would. At least one of us keeps our promises, Jake.”

  Jake’s crystal blue eyes flash at me.

  "Okay, that's enough," Fi says, glaring at Jake and stepping in between the two of us again.

  "Thanks a lot, Jake. Now you've ruined Puppy-Thon." I clutch the injured pup to my chest, making eye contact with Jake one last time before I turn and weave my way back to where the clinic rooms are. Kaylee trails behind me. I know without a word being said that Fi's going to stay behind to escort Jake out.

  The puppy I'll deal with now. Jake's another story entirely.

  Chapter 2

  Jake

  Swallowing back the emotions, I stare into Angie's brown eyes. I honestly didn't know she'd be here.

  And I knew she wouldn't be happy with me when she saw me again after the way we left things. After the way I left things.

  But I have to admit I'm still surprised by the amount of anger burning there behind her eyes. I shouldn't be surprised. I know I fucked up.

  She’s sexy as hell, too, although back in the day I wasn’t paying attention enough to notice.

  I came home hoping to run into her. Just not like this. And now I've screwed everything up. Even worse, I have Angie's friend Fi to deal with.

  I watch Angie walk away angry and I want to apologize. But Fi steps in front of me, eyes blazing. Uh-oh, I know that look.

  "Get lost, Jake," she says. "Again. It's the only thing you're really good at."

  "Yeah?" I arch a brow at her and smirk, trying to hide the disappointment that has to be written all over my face. Luckily, Angie’s the only person here who can read me well enough to know.

  This smirk would have gotten me any girl I wanted in Phoenix. Fi's expression doesn't change.

  "I'm good at a lot of things,” I continue, craning my neck to try to see around Fi. “Football, for one." I take a step to the left, testing to see if Fi’s let her guard down.

  She hasn't. She sidesteps like she's reading my playbook. "Yeah, and how did that work out for you?"

  "Ouch," I say, catching a last glimpse of Angie’s blond ponytail swishing as she disappears down a hallway carrying the injured pup and with Kaylee trailing close behind.

  I feel my shoulders fall. Even if I get past guard number one in Fi, then guard number two, Kaylee, is waiting in the wings.

  I know that Kaylee and Fi are Angie’s best friends and will do anything and everything to protect her. Even from me.

  Out of options, I survey all the chaos before turning my attention back to Fi. "Look, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. What can I do to help?"

  "Oh no, there's no way you're sticking around to cause more damage. Out. And don’t try anything mister because my new boyfriend is a six-foot-four bouncer. Don’t make me text him."

  "Hey, I'm six-four too," I object. I have no idea why I'm even arguing with her. About size of all things. Maybe for old time’s sake?

  I've thought about Angie more than I've cared to admit to myself over the years. So many things trigger memories of when the two of us were inseparable. And that usually meant Fi and Kaylee were around too. Maybe I even miss her friends. What the hell is wrong with me?

  "Hey," Fi says, snapping her fingers in my face, or as close to it as her five-foot-five frame can reach. "Earth to Jake. Are you going to leave or am I going to have to start making phone calls?"

  Giving her a small salute, I turn to leave. I have definitely lost the first battle, but I have no intentions of losing this war.

  A war I didn't even know I was in until now. I didn't fully realize this is the war that I even wanted until I saw Angie again. But now that I know there'll be no getting her off my mind, the one thing I won't do is surrender.

  Chapter 3

  Angie

  I clutch the shivering pooch closer to my chest as I make my way down the hall.

  Kaylee follows. The hallway is a perky pale blue with artwork from patients and inspirational prints adorning the walls.

  It's cute, this place. It’s everything I ever wanted. And now I’m probably going to lose it all. And the one who finally pushed it over the edge was Jake. What are the odds?

  I shake my head, not believing how crazy life can be. But now it’s time to focus. "Blankets, there are clean ones in the cabinet to your left," I point behind Kaylee.

  Kaylee dashes in that direction. "I'm so sorry, Angie. We just found out a few minutes ago. We tried to get to you first." She hands me the towels.

  I comfort the pup. Then I sedate him and set him down on a gurney in the hallway, covering him with the clean blankets so that I can do a quick x-ray and see if anything's broken.

  "Thanks, Kaylee. It's not your fault. How did you even know he was in town? Did he come for the weekend just so he could destroy Puppy-Thon? I mean, you'd think a big-shot professional football player would have better things to do than come back to St. Tropic just to ruin one of the most important weekends of my life."

  Kaylee's silence tells me something's wrong. I turn to her. "What?"

  "He's back, Angie."

  "What do you mean, he's back?"

  "He's kind of back, back," she answers.

  "Like, back for good? Why the hell would he do that?"

  Kaylee's face turns to a frown. "Something about an injury. You’re telling me you seriously don’t know what’s going on with him? You never once googled him? Not even after everything went down?"

  Of course. I googled the hell out of him. I’m just not willi
ng to admit it. "The past is the past. What good would it have done me?" I exhale as I push the gurney with the pup down the hall to the end office with the x-ray machine.

  I specifically like having an on-site x-ray machine. It had been a big cash expenditure when I first got started, but it’s been worth its weight in gold as far as time and convenience. Now I'm regretting every single purchase I’ve ever made and kicking myself.

  Kaylee continues to follow me. Her black hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she’s in sweats and a tee. That’s when I realize she came from home.

  “Wow, you never googled him, I’m proud of you.”

  "But," I add. I know there’s something else that Kaylee isn’t telling me. She’s obviously holding out.

  Kaylee is a lot of things, but a closed book is not one of them. Of course, there was that time she got fake engaged to a freaking billionaire. She held out on Fi and I for almost twenty-four hours which is a Kaylee record.

  It turned out well, though, and now she and Chase are engaged and living in an ocean-front cottage. The two of them have an adorable story.

  Which is the opposite of me and Jake. I don’t have a cute story. I have a past with a wrecking ball. “Spit it out, Kaylee.”

  "Which part?" She asks.

  I knew it. "All of it. Summarize or something.” Then I stop in my tracks as the realization hits me. “Hey, why in the hell would you be stalking him if I'm not stalking him?"

  "Oh, Fi and I set alerts on our phone. Every time he hit the news wire or TMZ or ran afoul of the local press or traveled anywhere across Arizona state lines, Fi and I knew. The first few years anyway. I guess we got lax lately. He snuck up on all of us when we least expected.”

  Kaylee catches up and opens the door to the x-ray room, making eye contact with me. "Of course. He had a recent ankle injury that didn’t heal right. If you add that in with bad local press and complaints of his overly generous contract compared to his on-field production, then it makes sense that they cut him."

  I stop wheeling the bed. "They cut him?"

  "And according to the internet, now no team will touch him with a ten-foot pole."

  I digest this news while I wheel the bed into the room and switch on the light. "So, he's here for Dr. Kade." Dr. Kade is one of the best physical therapists in the country.

  Kaylee nods.

  That's when Gwen materializes in front of me, practically pushing Kaylee out of the way as gently as she can.

  "Gwen and I have it from here, Kaylee. Thanks for your help. Will you go check on Fi for me?"

  Chapter 4

  Jake

  The morning air is so different here at the beach than it was in Arizona. It fills me with hope that I can mount a comeback. I'm Jake Fucking Mann. I've got this.

  Pulling into a parking spot right in front of the bright yellow building, I hop out. I've been out of the ankle brace for months, and yet the scar tissue remains.

  As I approach, I can tell that the front desk receptionist knows exactly who I am. She's a knockout too, with dark hair pulled into a ponytail, silky blouse, and perky tits. As if reacting on its own, my face curls up into a flashy smile.

  She returns the smile and arches an eyebrow at me. "Mr. Mann?"

  "Please, you can call me Jake."

  "Well, Jake, Dr. Kade is ready for you. The office is right down that hallway." She points behind her. Then she pulls out a business card and writes something on the back.

  "Thank you, um."

  "Emma," she answers with a flirty smile. "Here, Jake. In case you need the office contact info."

  I accept the business card, knowing full well it's got her number on the back. "Thank you, Emma."

  The rest of the morning is filled with consultations, additional tests, action plans, and paperwork. Finally, I'm back in the car and headed to my condo when I pass a billboard I do not expect.

  The billboard itself isn't a surprise, it's always been there. In the past, it usually had a picture advertising a fast-food place or a beer company.

  Now it's a life-sized photo of Angie. And she's holding a small puppy in her arms.

  I stomp on the breaks and the car comes to a screeching stop. Above Angie, in big letters are the words: St. Tropic Veterinary Clinic. The absolute best care for the fur babies in your life.

  I smile. She did it. And I’m proud of her. I mean, I always knew she would. Never had a doubt.

  I pull the car forward onto the side of the road so that I can Google her. I spend a good half hour electronically finding out what she's been up to. I don’t find out much. If she does anything other than work, there’s no evidence of it online.

  I need a new angle. It's not going to be easy finding a way to get past the impression I made last night.

  Then I see an article. Oh, no. The economic downturn has had a big effect on her practice. And that was before a major competitor moved in. The article states that even though she’s the only small practice in town, she’s on the rocks financially.

  According to the billboard, she’s being represented by Cara Carrera’s Agency. Wow, she must have been very desperate to hire the most cantankerous, expensive, and effective marketing expert in town. Carrera. That's it, that's my opportunity. Things are finally looking up.

  My own agent has been nagging me for years to do some outreach or volunteer work. Anything to improve my standing in the community. But until now, I wasn’t really interested. But that all changed when I saw Angie again.

  I dial the phone and Cara Carrera picks up herself. Yes, that's really her name. And she answers in that thick southern accent of hers.

  "You've got Cara."

  "Hey, Cara. It's Jake Mann. You know, the football player."

  There's a pause on the line before she continues. "I know who you are. And I can guess what you want if you're calling me. What the fuck have you done now? And what the hell happened to your manager that you’re calling me to do something about it?"

  She hasn’t changed a bit. "I'm not calling about what I've done," I answer smugly, "I'm calling about what I can do for you. More specifically, what I can do for a client of yours."

  A few minutes later, I hang up the phone. That went exactly as planned. Now there’s only one thing left to do and that’s get the boys back together.

  Chapter 5

  Angie

  I wake bleary eyed and in need of strong coffee. Stretching, I walk through my living room and into the kitchen.

  Despite my best efforts to relax after last night's Jake and Puppy-Thon debacle, I had a hard time shaking it all. Now I’m tired and standing here in my Pittsburg Steelers tee staring at the coffee pot as if willing it to work. I know it won’t.

  My frustrated exhale is a cry for help as well as caffeine. The coffee pot is broken. It’s just the most recent thing in my life to break.

  There’s my career that’s in a death spiral and my sex life has been on the rocks for at least a year while I tried to perform daily CPR on my business.

  Activism and volunteer work do not pay the bills. And there simply isn't a cheaper building to be had than the abandoned warehouse I rehabbed.

  Between student loans and falling profits due to the new, heartless McVet moving into my territory, I feel like every day is two steps back, then another two steps back.

  I remember now that the coffee pot broke yesterday morning on the way out the door. In retrospect, maybe I should have taken that as I sign that yesterday was going to super suck. Run, Angie, this day is going to be a total disaster.

  I wonder if anything better will come today. Probably not. That’s when I decide that if I'm going to go down broke and with my career in flaming ruins, I might as well do it with a cup of decent coffee in my hands.

  Ocean Wave Coffee. It's my favorite. I haven't treated myself in months, and this morning I'm feeling just the right amount of sorry for myself to do it despite the objections of my bank account. Being a responsible adult be damned.

  After a quick shower, I
head out. My favorite drink is called a Tropical Disturbance. It's a delicious coconut strawberry latte, Ocean Wave's own creation, and it manages to be delicious and refreshing and invigorating all at the same time.

  I get there in no time and smile as I open the door into a room of distressed wood, ocean-themed décor, and a hippie feel.

  Also, it smells like heaven. The line's not even too long. Yay me. I order my Tropical Disturbance and take the first heavenly sip before heading out the door. As soon as I get back into the car, my cell rings. It's Cara.

  Cara Carrera is the woman I hired to help me beat back the competition. She's the absolute best at what she does, and she's expensive. It would be fair to say that paying her is either going to hasten my career demise or it’ll save me. There’s no way to know for sure.

  Hiring her seemed like a long shot at the time, but it’s my only hope. I have to try. And now that hope is dimming. But I wonder why she’s calling me now.

  The way things have been going lately, a wave of fear washes over me. Did I forget to pay her? Did the check bounce? I don't remember paying her. And if I did send her a check in the last few days, there is no doubt in my mind that it will indeed bounce.

  I take a deep breath and answer. "Hi, Cara." Whew. That wasn't so bad. I debate telling her she's breaking up, or that I'm going through a tunnel or being eaten by a pack of angry, rabid wombats.

  Any of those things would be better than me blurting out the worst possible thing in the half a second of silence that follows. "I'm sorry, I'll get a new payment out to you right away."

  I barely get the words out before Cara also starts talking. "Hey, Angie. I have great news."

  "Wait, what?" Cara drawls at me, her attitude way too perky for this time of the morning. I wonder what kind of coffee high-powered marketing specialists order.