Isabella chuckled and reached over to ruffle her son’s hair. “No, of course not.”
It all seemed so very natural. Amy looked from mother to son. Apparently Diego wasn’t the only actor in the family.
“Mama.” Diego produced the wrapped picture from behind his back. “This is for you.” He then slid a glance at Amy as if to say, See, I told you it would go well.
Isabella laughed and opened up the wrapping paper. “I love presents.”
“It’s only something small,” Diego said.
Isabella slid the picture of the happy couple into the open. Head down, she examined it intently for a long moment. So long that Amy grew anxious. So long that Diego finally reached over and pointed to a kid in the background. “That’s Mario Duenas, Maria del Carmen’s grandson.”
“Is it? My, he’s a big boy now.” Her gaze was still fixed on the photograph.
“And a good player.” Now Diego was beginning to sound anxious.
“Thank you for this, mijo.” His worried tone jolted her into giving him a quick hug. “And you too, Amy.” She turned to Amy. Isabella’s look spoke volumes.
She did know.
Amy tucked her hair into the back of her dress and pressed herself into the soft leather seat of Diego’s vintage Mustang convertible. She’d always thought she would like convertibles, but the stiff breeze whipped around the windshield and tangled her long hair. Thanks to the heatwave, the night hadn’t cooled yet. Sweat prickled her back and mixed uncomfortably with her hair. A hair shirt. The penance seemed appropriate.
“Thank you for that. I think it went well.” Diego seemed immune to both Amy’s and his mother’s discomfort. Amy bit the inside of her bottom lip. Should she or shouldn’t she tell him? She could hear Paul Knight shouting inside her head, Mind your own goddamn business!
Diego should know, she decided. He might even be happier for it, especially if he could live his life the way he wanted to, openly and without remorse. She turned toward him so her words would not be cut off by the wind. “I think your mother knows.”
“Knows what?” Diego asked.
“About you. And probably about us, too.”
Diego clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles went white and kept his eyes straight on the road ahead.
“No. She doesn’t,” he said finally, shifting the car into a lower gear to take the corner hard and fast.
Amy fixed her gaze on him. His expression had hardened. Denial oozed from every pore.
“I think—”
“There’s nothing to think or know. I’m not doing anything with anybody except you. And as we both know, that’s not really anything either.”
“Okay.” Amy got the message and dropped the subject. If her boss didn’t want to talk about the elephant in the room, then they wouldn’t. They drove on in silence. How was she going to repair this?
“Your parents’ house is lovely,” she said.
No answer.
“The food was really good.”
Diego sighed. “Mm.”
Not an actual word, but at least she was making a little bit of progress. Amy turned the pages of the afternoon over in her mind so she could put even more distance between them and the one topic that Diego wouldn’t acknowledge.
“I really liked your old coach. The one from UCLA. What was his name?”
Amy knew his name, but she needed an answer from Diego.
“Marcus.”
“It’s great that you’ve stayed in touch with him.”
“He’s a great guy.” A little bit of warmth crept into Diego’s voice. Not for her, but she would take whatever she could get at this point. “He’s always got my back.”
“How?”
“He found Casey for me.”
Amy’s stomach lurched. She absolutely shouldn’t bite. Two dangerous conversations in a row were two too many, and the minefields buried in this one were much harder to detect. She tried to beat down the curiosity rising in waves and actually opened her mouth to ask something about his great-grandmother. Instead, she heard herself say, “What do you mean found?”
“Marcus is involved with the woman’s program at UCLA. He knew Casey when she played there.”
The blue and gold Bruin soccer bag popped into Amy’s mind, and the puzzle pieces of Casey’s history started to slip together.
“She played there?” Amy echoed back.
“Yeah. She was the real deal too, until she blew out her knee.”
“I saw the brace.” What was wrong with her? She couldn’t stop herself talking about Casey. “I didn’t know they even made braces that big. It’s like a leg from the Iron Man costume.”
“You don’t even know the half of it. It was a terrible injury. And to make it all worse, she had just been called up to the women’s national team.”
“You’re kidding.” There wasn’t a girl alive who seriously kicked a ball down a soccer field and hadn’t dreamed about such a call.
“Not even a little bit. Got the call at the UCLA soccer office. Marcus actually picked up the phone. It was wild. Nobody expected it. You see, she was off their radar. She hadn’t come up through their youth program where they usually get their players. So she must have been amazing.”
“So what happened?”
“Casey did. UCLA had a summer scrimmage. Marcus told her not play, but Casey’s as loyal as a dog and she wasn’t going to leave her teammates high and dry.”
Amy sighed; she didn’t really need another reason to like Casey any more.
“I think it was the goalie from the other team who took her out. And that was it.” Diego smacked the steering wheel in frustration. “She tried to come back. The national team was even willing to give her another tryout. They’re pretty forgiving that way, but the knee was never the same.”
“Man. That’s tough.”
“You’re telling me. She would’ve made it too. That makes it far worse.”
“So you gave her a job?”
“Marcus wanted her to start coaching once she graduated. Had even talked to UCLA, I think. She turned him down flat. Said it would be too hard to watch other players doing what she couldn’t anymore. So yeah, I gave her a job. I needed an assistant. She understood soccer, and she’s super smart. It was weird at first, and sometimes still is. But I seem to specialize in weird relationships and making them work.” He threw her a smile.
“Yes, I know.” She smiled back and blew out a breath of relief. She filed away the helpful fact that soccer cured all ills with Diego.
“I’m not sure her heart’s in the job, though. I mean how could it be? She was pre-med at UCLA. Finished all her courses while she was rehabbing. And now she’s an assistant?”
“There are a lot of reasons why people take jobs,” Amy said, thinking of her own experience at the Valley Arms.
“Hey, maybe you could get to know her. Become friends and find out if she’s happy or not? You think you could do that?”
“I could try. But I’m not sure she likes me much.”
“I heard her telling Tammy that you were great with her niece or cousin or somebody.”
“Her niece. Mia.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Her niece. Try to find out if she’s happy, would you? I don’t want to hold her back or anything.”
“I’ll see what I can find out.” Amy turned her gaze onto the road speeding by outside. The yellow dashes on the street blurred into one big line. No wonder there was an edge to Casey. Slapped down on the way to the national team. Life wasn’t fair, as Amy realized all too well. But still… Hadn’t her boss just given her a new assignment? She was being paid to do this job, and now the position included getting to know Casey. How could she say no to her employer?
“Oh, before I forget. Paul texted. He wants to talk to you about something at Caffeine Cowabunga tomorrow
. He’ll pick you up at ten?”
“Sure.” Damn. Not being able to say no to your boss was a double edged sword.
It’s easy for Diego, Atoms superstar forward, to juggle soccer and the love of his life, Amy Kimball. Life for them is a ball. #Amiego.
Knight showed her the Twitter feed off his phone.
“Hashtag Amiego? Who thought that up?” Amy said.
“Lucy, of course. I think we may be overusing the ball metaphor, but it’s still great publicity,” Knight answered.
“Don’t you think everyone’s spreading it on a little thick? What’s going to happen when we actually don’t get married?”
“We’ll cross that bridge later.” Knight handed her the phone again. There was a picture of her and Diego from the studio shoot splashed across it. “You guys look good.”
They did. Really good. Amy and Diego juggled the ball around the studio, but where the green screen had been there was now a gorgeous soccer field with snow covered mountains way in the background.
“Where are we supposed to be?” asked Amy.
“The land of true love.”
“So it’s just as fake as our relationship?”
“Shush! Someone will hear you.”
“No one’s listening.”
And it was true. Knight couldn’t have chosen a more ridiculous place for their meeting. Caffeine Cowabunga was a restaurant, a coffee house, and a surf shop all rolled into one, about twenty-five miles from the ocean. The coffee house rambled over a wooden deck close to a bubbling creek. Amy was pretty sure the creek was the only thing that reached the ocean from there. The surf shop catered to rich kids from the Valley who fancied themselves surfers, but Amy would have bet hard money that only a few of them ever made it to the beach with a board.
“You want a latte? I want a latte.” Knight called the waitress over without waiting for Amy’s answer.
“Hey, what’s going on with Simon?” Amy asked, wondering why they were here. Knight could have just e-mailed her the picture.
“He just booked his first gig at the Roadhouse in a couple of weeks, I think.”
“Really?” Amy frowned. Simon still hadn’t answered one of her texts. But she had no desire to admit that to Knight of all people
“He has no idea you set this all up, does he?”
“I’m sure you didn’t bring me here to tell me how to run my friendship with Simon.”
“No, I didn’t. But I’ll messenger over a couple of tickets to the show. You go if you want. Congratulate him in person. Bring Diego even. You two need more dates that seem organic and not a publicity stunt.” He took the phone back. “I’ll send a plant to take some pictures. Get them onto Facebook.”
Amy sighed. Count on Knight to take the one non-selfish thing she had done in a long time and turn it to his advantage.
“Why exactly are we here?” Amy asked.
He pulled a manila envelope with the Horowitz and Kane logo embossed on it from his briefcase and slid it across the table, keeping his palm flat on it.
“We’re all pretty happy with the way things are going. You know Diego told me that…” And here Knight lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “…if he wanted a girlfriend he would want it to be you.”
“Thanks, I guess.” A faint blush crept into her cheeks.
“Don’t go developing real feelings for him.”
“I’m not. Give me some credit here.” How could she tell Knight that when she fell asleep at night she dreamed about cool blue eyes and not warm brown ones, even if the owner of the blue eyes hadn’t said one word to her in the last two days.
“We haven’t told you the whole story.”
Here it was. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Amy marveled at the fact that in the wacky, mixed-up world she was living in, this creepy man was the only one she could speak to without measuring her words first.
“The situation,” Knight said, ignoring Amy’s sarcasm, “is much more complicated than we’ve led you to believe.”
“Again, not surprised.”
“Before I go any further, you need to remember that you’re under a confidentially contract that extends to this conversation as well.”
Despite herself, Amy tilted her head waiting for Knight to continue. When he didn’t, she said, “How can I forget. It seems to be your catch phrase.”
“Good. So the whole crazy idea of inserting you into Diego’s life came about because of these.” He tapped the manila envelope with his fingers. “A couple of months ago, we got the first one.” He lifted his hand. “Please look at them, but be discreet.”
“Okay.” Amy had no idea what to expect. She dropped the envelope to her lap. It was stuffed with photographs. She slid the first one out.
“Shit,” she said, softly.
“Yeah. Not good. Not good at all.”
She slid the picture out an inch more to make sure she had seen it correctly. Diego, gorgeous in a teal shirt, was kissing a man on the cheek. In another, he had his arms looped around two handsome men outside the soccer stadium. She flipped through the rest of the pictures. They were all of Diego with different men, at the beach, on a boat, even by his own pool, and not one snapshot left his sexual preference in doubt. Amy’s stomach sank. She’d actually begun to enjoy her role as Diego’s girl, but if any of these pictures were made public, it would end all that. What’s more, she had actually believed Diego when he had told her there was no one in his life, and that he would do nothing to jeopardize his family’s happiness. Obviously, that didn’t include taking up with any Tom, Dick, or Harry that came his way.
“How could he be so stupid?” Amy asked. Was this why he was so nonchalant at his parents’ house? Mr. Nice Guy was just an act, and he was playing everyone. She was the stupid one, it seemed.
“Well, that’s the odd part. He claims he wasn’t.”
“Of course, he would. He got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. What else would he say?” The bitterness in her voice surprised her. She had trusted Diego. She shoved the photos back in the envelope.
“That’s what I thought, too. We all did. But he says that he doesn’t know any of these men. He’s never seen any of them before in his life.”
“I would say he’s lying.”
“At first glance, yes. But we had an expert at the firm examine them, and all of them are photoshopped,” Knight said. “Not one of these is real. Diego’s telling the truth.”
“What firm? Horowitz and Kane?”
“Yeah. They have all sorts of people there.” Knight dismissed the question. He wrapped both hands around his coffee and leaned towards her conspiratorially. “You see, a couple of months ago, Horowitz got the first picture. And we’ve been getting one nearly every week since.”
“Blackmail?”
Knight shrugged. “So far there’s been no demands. Just the pictures.”
“So it’s not blackmail?” Amy was surprised.
“No. At least, not yet. Creating a picture like this is not illegal. And we can’t go to the police because there’s no extortion. We tried to figure out where they’re coming from, but the firm’s investigator drew a blank on that, too. Except that whoever it is, they’re not getting the pictures off the internet. There’s got to be an inside source. So basically, we got nothing to go on, so far.” He squeezed the coffee cup so tightly, Amy wondered if it might shatter. She leaned back in her seat.
“And you’re worried that this crazy, who enjoys playing with pictures of Diego, will do something worse than demand money? Is that it?”
Knight threw Amy a grateful look. “Yes. That’s it exactly. All it takes is one of these, just one, posted to the internet. And it doesn’t matter if it’s fake, Diego’s endorsement deals will dry up. Gay men don’t sell shit in the Latino market.”
She didn’t like Knight. She was pretty sure she nev
er would. She just couldn’t get past that creepy vibe. But the worried tone in his voice, the care with the envelope, it wasn’t just his usual dramatics. He had real affection for Diego.
“I get it. The pictures are why he was playing so badly and why we had to rush into our engagement.”
“Yes.” Knight scowled. “If the truth ever got out, we, well I, thought we could hide it with a lie. And if we got our lie out there first…”
Amy nodded her head. In this day and age of social media, his crazy plan made perfect sense. “But that’s not why you brought me here. To tell me all this.”
“No. We want you to take on something else for us,” he said.
Amy closed her eyes and sighed. She was feeling sorry for Diego, and maybe even for Knight, just the tiniest little bit, but she was in deep enough. “What?” she asked curtly.
“Last week the pictures changed from cute vacation photos to this.” He pulled a second envelope from his briefcase. “Prepare yourself.” He passed the envelope over.
“Oh my God!” Diego still had a starring role. This time, however, there was nothing left to the imagination. “These aren’t real either, are they?”
“No, but this is gay porn. We’re in a different league now, as you can see. It’s imperative we find out who is responsible.”
“So now you want me to be a fake detective as well as a fake girlfriend?”
“Yes.” Knight didn’t hear her sarcasm. “We think it’s someone close to him. Probably someone who has access to the house. We want you to keep your ears and eyes open. Just look around and see what you can find out.”
“I don’t know. Whoever it is seems like a real nut job.”
“Look, if we can ID this person, we get them out of Diego’s life.”
Amy pursed her lips and said nothing.
“I hear from the grapevine that the national team is sniffing around. This would be the absolute worst time for anything like this to break. You owe it to him.”
Knight was wrong. She didn’t owe Diego anything. But she did like the man, and if she could help him chase his dream, then she should.
The Set Piece Page 9