Kick It Up

by Carol Ericson

Your father is too cautious. I don’t think this investigation is going to turn fans away. Besides, Simon is the lynchpin holding this team together. We need him.” The Waves weren’t the only ones who needed Simon.

  She ate breakfast...alone...and then tried Simon’s home phone again.

  “Hello?”

  “Gemma, thank God someone’s home. Where’s Simon?”

  “Jessica?” Gemma yawned. “I don’t know. He left already.”

  “Did he say where he was going?” She dumped her dishes into the sink. “We were supposed to have breakfast together.”

  “I didn’t see him. He was gone before I got up. I had a late night.”

  Jessica groaned. If she had to pull Gemma out of any more tight spots, she’d use up all her favors in this town.

  “Not again. Haven’t you learned anything?”

  “Not that kind of late night. I got together with some mates from my acting class, and we stayed up all night drinking coffee and running lines.”

  “Good.” She rubbed the back of her neck. It still didn’t solve the mystery of Simon’s disappearance. “Did Simon leave a note or anything?”

  “No.” Gemma gasped. “Oh my God.”

  “What’s wrong?” Jessica’s heart did a three-sixty.

  “The mirror over the fireplace is broken.”

  “So, Simon will get it fixed.” Her pulse rate returned to normal. Gemma certainly had a flair for drama. If she didn’t make it as an actress, she should go into trial law.

  “I-it looks like...” Gemma’s voice faded away.

  “Gemma, are you there? Looks like what?”

  “It looks like Simon threw his phone at the mirror. It’s on the base of the fireplace all broken.” That explained why Jessica couldn’t reach him on his cell. Obviously, Simon didn’t like what someone had told him over the phone. She hoped it had nothing to do with the investigation.

  “Maybe it was just an accident, Gem. Are you going to the game with me?”

  “Absolutely. Are we sitting in the box seats?”

  “Yeah, the clubhouse caters food and everything.”

  “Sounds brilliant. Ivo will know just where to find me too.”

  Jessica ended the call and sucked in her lower lip.

  Simon would know just where to find her too...if he wanted to.

  ***

  “We love you, Simon.”

  “We believe you, Boss.”

  “Esta lo mejor.”

  “Tell the UEFA to shove it.”

  “You’re a cheat. Go back to Germany.” Oh well, one out of five wasn’t bad unless that Latino bloke had told him to bugger off. Simon ducked in the side door of the stadium, reserved for the players. He caught up to Ivo and Taye, and they exchanged fist bumps while Simon studied their faces. If they knew about any suspension, they weren’t giving anything away. Either they didn’t know about the suspension, or they had their minds on the game where his should be.

  on the game where his should be.

  Simon had slept well last night despite the turmoil whipping through his life like a brisk wind off the Thames.

  He usually stayed focused.

  Regardless of what happened in ten minutes, an hour, or after the match, right now he had a job to do. His teammates were counting on him, had put their trust and faith in him, and he refused to let them down. If Franco suspended him before the match, Simon would stick around to see the team through, even if he had to do it from the sidelines.

  Simon put on his kit, tensing every time the door opened. Still no sign of Franco. Looked like Jessica and her father planned to let him play the first match. He’d just have to show them what they were missing. Did Jessica realize how much she was losing by turning her back on him?

  Franco stuck his head in the locker room. “Time to warm-up, gentlemen. We have a full-house today.” Simon caught his eye. “Coach, are we still meeting today?”

  A flush flashed across Franco’s face, but he shook his head. “Not today.”

  Simon exhaled...a reprieve.

  He jogged out to the pitch with the other players, and the early-birds in the stands clapped and whistled. He knew the crowds at American soccer matches were a lot tamer than the Germans and especially the English–no chants, no songs, no throwing things on the pitch at players they hated.

  No sweat.

  While they warmed up, the stadium filled to capacity.

  Music blared and the towering screens behind the goals flashed ads and stats and promotions. Time for the line-up.

  As the announcer called out each player’s name, that player ran forward to the line accompanied by cheers and applause. Then the announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium. “And making his first appearance for Major League Soccer with the Los Angeles Waves, Simon The Boss Bosford.”

  Simon joined the line of his teammates as the stadium erupted in a thunderous roar. He raised his hands and flashed his grin, which the screen magnified. He could detect a few boos among the chorus of voices shouting,

  “Boss, Boss, Boss,” but overall the response elevated his spirits.

  If he had just one game with the Waves, he’d go out a winner.

  ***

  Jessica couldn’t take her eyes off of the tall blonde with the amazing thighs darting back and forth across the pitch.

  From the beginning of the game, Simon had commanded the field in every way. As the ball neared the other team’s goal, the plays formed around Simon like water flowing into an open space. He’d scored one goal already and had curled a corner kick into perfect position for Ivo to head it into the net for the second goal.

  And the crowd adored him. There had been a few boos when the announcer introduced him, but Simon had won over even those dissenters with his performance today.

  He’d won her over weeks ago.

  Gemma leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Who’s that bald guy in the next box over who’s been looking over here ever since he showed up late?”

  Jessica had noticed Evan’s arrival with his flashy wife and several guests when the game was more than half over, and she managed a tepid, beauty-queen wave. She didn’t think Simon should keep him on as his agent. Evan had more interest in making money off of Simon than handling his soccer career. She’d seen plenty of agents like that over the years with Dad’s football teams, and it always meant bad news for the athlete.

  “That’s Evan Chase, Simon’s agent.” She glanced over and Evan caught her eye. Damn. Now they’d have to chat.

  “Do you want to go over there and say hello?”

  “I guess so.”

  Jessica poked her head in the door leading to the luxury box. “Hi Evan, Gina.”

  They all did the kissy-face thing and introductions. Gina kept a wary eye on the two intruders, especially Gemma, who looked like a candy cane with her short, red-and-white striped skirt and white, knee-high boots. She’d topped her blond curls with a red beret.

  They exchanged small talk until Evan jerked his thumb toward the pitch. “I’m surprised to see Simon out there today.”

  “Why should you be? He told me you were trying to convince him to give up and sign on to some stupid reality TV series, but he refused the offer.”

  “He might come around after the suspension.”

  “Who told you the Waves planned to suspend Simon?” She placed a hand on her hip and tilted her chin. She’d enjoy shooting this man down.

  His brows shot up to his cleanly shaven head. “The man himself. Your father.”

  Dad must’ve been really sure of himself. He must’ve been really sure that she’d succumb to his authority. She folded her arms and straightened her spine. “Didn’t my father tell you? I have controlling interest in the Waves, and I vetoed that idea. I call the shots now.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Evan twisted the diamond stud in his ear. “Did you break the good news to Simon?”

  “Simon?” Her hands bunched the sleeves of her shirt, and her eyelid twitched. “My father never
informed Simon.

  Franco was going to do that this morning, but I phoned him last night to call it off.”

  “Simon must’ve been relieved to hear that. Maybe that’s why he’s playing so well now.” Evan didn’t look at all relieved at the news. He dragged a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow, his posture stiffening beneath the designer threads.

  “Simon didn’t need to hear anything from Franco.” She licked her lips, which were sticking to her teeth. “He never knew about the suspension.”

  “Sure he did. I told him yesterday. I mistakenly thought your father had primary authority.” He shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”

  The blood pounded in her ears as Evan’s smarmy face swam before her. Simon thought she’d planned to suspend him. Her gaze darted to the pitch, seeking the goldenhaired Adonis. What did he believe now? Did Franco tell him the Waves weren’t suspending him? If Franco didn’t know that Evan told Simon in the first place, why would he even mention it? Was Simon out there playing his heart out for a team he believed planned to suspend him anyway?

  “Simon thought he was facing suspension and he still didn’t agree to do the TV show?” Her harsh laugh scraped against her dry throat. “You lose.”

  Evan leaned in, his heavy cologne gagging her. “I have other means of persuasion at my disposal.”

  “You don’t have the power or influence to convince Simon to do something against his better judgment. If he didn’t agree to do the show after you told him about the suspension, he never will. He’s stronger than that.” Angry sparks flew from Evan’s eyes and his mouth tightened into a snarl before he tamed it into a wicked smile. “He may be stronger than that, but I think he’d like to protect his sister.”

  Gemma, who had been following the conversation with wide eyes, jumped. “What?”

  “Let’s just say I have a videotape of you, honey, and you’re definitely ready for your close-up.” Gemma’s lips trembled, and her baby blue eyes filled with instant tears.

  “You piece of shit.” A white, hot rage flashed through Jessica’s body, and she clenched her fist. “I thought Megan arranged that criminal act for her own purposes, but she did it for you.”

  “What do you know about it?” Evan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and a red flush crept up his face and spread across his bald dome.

  “I have the DVD because I have some pretty powerful methods of persuasion at my disposal too...asshole.” Evan gulped. “You have the DVD? Impossible.”

  “Oh it’s very possible. I guess Megan forgot to tell you she lost it.” She grabbed Gemma’s hand. “Let’s go. The stench in here is unbearable.”

  Gemma jerked forward and spiked her knee into Evan’s crotch. He howled, and his wife spun around.

  “What the hell did you do to my husband?” Gemma opened her eyes wide, allowing one big tear to splash down her cheek. “The wanker pinched me bum.”

  As they stumbled out of the box, they heard Gina scream, “You bastard!”

  Gemma sagged against the wall, rubbing a hand under her nose, her hair creating a veil around her face. “I can’t believe Simon’s agent set me up to blackmail Simon, and I made it easy for him. I feel awful.”

  “You feel awful?” Jessica paced in front of Gemma, grinding her teeth like a cartoon character. All she needed was the steam blowing out of her ears. “Simon thinks I suspended him. After all our hard work together, he thinks I betrayed him.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Jessica,” she looked up and shoved the hair out of her face, “but it looks like he recovered already. I haven’t seen him play football like this since he left England.”

  Her heart jumped and she grabbed Gemma’s shoulders. “You’re right. And he did it himself. He didn’t cut loose when he found out about the suspension, and he didn’t go on a wild drinking, womanizing binge.” She shook Gemma. “Don’t you see? He believes in himself again, and that’s the ultimate aphrodisiac.”

  She released her grip on Gemma and skipped down the hallway.

  “Where are you going?” Gemma called after her.

  “I’m going to tell Simon I love him.”

  “He’s in the middle of a match.”

  “I’m the freakin’ owner of the team. I can do what I want.”

  Jessica ran down the hallway of luxury boxes that the Waves sold out for the season when they’d announced the acquisition of Simon The Boss Bosford. She tripped down two flights of stairs and hung a right at the tunnel leading to the locker rooms.

  “Excuse me. You can’t go this way.” A looming security guard held up his hand.

  She flashed her badge, jiggling it impatiently in his face.

  “Sorry, Ms. Brett. Go right ahead.”

  “Thanks,” she squinted at his nameplate, “Adam. You just earned yourself a raise.”

  She ran through the locker room, which more closely resembled an exclusive gym and didn’t even smell like sweat, and pushed through the doors that led to the pitch.

  She encountered a bigger security guard on the other side of the doors. Another salary increase later and she found herself on the sidelines, heading toward the benches, her heels sinking into the rubber beneath the artificial turf.

  A huge roar from the crowd nearly blew her off her feet, and she looked up at the screen. Simon, his hands held up in acknowledgement, jogged off the pitch to a thundering chant of, “Boss, Boss, Boss, Boss.”

  Perfect timing. Alignment of the stars. Fate.

  He perched on the edge of a chair, still waving to the crowd. When he sank back and grabbed a bottle of water, she made her move.

  She crouched behind him and tugged on the sleeve of his damp jersey. He swung his head around, flinging beads of sweat from his hair onto her face.

  His eyes glinted, and she could almost feel the chill descend between her and his hot, steaming body.

  “Come down here to suspend me, did you?”

  “No. I never planned to suspend you, Simon.”

  “Nice try.” He chugged down the water, swished some in his mouth, and spit it out. His gaze tracked the action on the pitch. “Evan told me, and then Franco verified it by requesting a meeting with me today.”

  She dug her heels into the grass. “Did you have that meeting?”

  He turned and glanced at her over his left shoulder.

  “Not yet.”

  “And you’re not going to.”

  “Why? Because of today’s performance? You and Daddy get cold feet once you saw how much my fans support me? Too bad you don’t have one ounce of the faith in me that these complete strangers do.”

  “I have faith in you, Simon.” She blew out a breath and grabbed his forearm, which tensed beneath her fingers.

  “My father invited me over last night to fill me in that the Waves were suspending you, and he told Franco to inform you today. Only one problem with that plan. Nobody told me.”

  “You didn’t know about it?”

  “Not only did I not know about it, I didn’t approve it. I overrode my father’s decision.”

  Simon searched her face, looking for the truth. Could he see it in her eyes? Maybe not.

  “Hey, Franco.” She stood up and waved her arms.

  “Franco.”

  Franco, his head bent in discussion with another coach, looked up, his brows colliding over his nose. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

  “I’m the boss, remember? Why did I call you last night?”

  Franco’s gaze shifted to Simon and back to her.

  “It’s okay. Simon knows everything. Why did I call you?” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “To tell me Simon’s suspension was off.” His assistant coach grabbed his arm, and Franco jumped up and down. “Pass, pass.” She turned back to Simon, who had leaped out of his chair, yelling, “To the goal.”

  Jessica tipped her head toward the screen to watch Ivo head the ball into the net for the Waves’ third goal of the night.Clapping, Simon twisted his head back and looked into her eyes. His ow
n softened, turning the color of the blue Pacific where she’d parked his car.

  She pulled her heels out of the Astroturf and threw herself at his sweaty chest. He wrapped his arms around her so tightly, she lost her breath, but she had enough left to squeeze out the words, “I love you, Boss.”

  ***

  As the picture of Jessica and Simon kissing on the sidelines flashed on the big screen, the announcer in the booth said, “Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like the Boss’s female fans follow him even onto the soccer pitch.” The crowd roared its approval as Gemma kicked up her heels on the wall of the box, munching a piece of chocolate cake from the dessert cart.

  “Ah, this is the life.”

  Epilogue

  Simon nuzzled Jessica’s soft shoulder and kissed the nape of her neck, allowing a silky lock of hair to tickle his nose. He inhaled her sweet, musky scent, running his tongue along the edge of her earlobe to savor it. She murmured and wiggled her backside against him, hitting a strategic spot. Hooking his leg over her hip, he molded her body to his, pretending he could capture her forever.

  Her fingernails skimmed the length of his thigh, and she turned her head over her shoulder, opening one sleepy, raccoon eye. She’d never bothered to remove her eye make-up last night. Their urgency to get their hands on each other trumped everything...even food.

  They’d celebrated the Waves’ first victory by going back to his place and ripping each other’s clothes off. Then they ordered pizza and resumed the main event. That must’ve been enough thrills and excitement for Jessica because he didn’t hear any complaining. Except for the one time he brought her to the very edge and then turned his attention...and his tongue...to her toes.

  “Sorry, did I wake you?” He kissed the corner of her mouth just as she started to yawn.

  “Bollocks.” She squirmed in his arms to face him and swept the hair back from his brow with her palms. “You had every intention of waking me up so you could have your way with me again.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. You know how you Yanks are crazy about lawsuits? I think I have a good case for sexual harassment here. You are the boss, and if I start losing playing time, maybe I can chalk it up to retaliation for not satisfying you in bed.”