Game for Trouble

by Karen Erickson

  Jared laughed and Nick sent him a withering stare, shutting him up.

  “I mean it. But you know, I can definitely make her think I’ve stopped chasing her for a little while and see if she lowers her guard.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Jared said with a nod.

  Nick frowned. What if this stupid plan didn’t work? Damn it, he really wanted to land Willow in his bed. Over and over again. Just to prove to her that they were good together. But could she stand being in a real relationship with him? What he did for a living was rough on relationships. He was always gone.

  Always. And she’d hate that. Resent it. Resent him.

  The last thing he wanted was for Willow to hate him.

  Again.

  Chapter Seven

  “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Mr. Whitmore,” Willow greeted warmly the moment he stepped into Sweet Treats, his daughter at his side.

  Great. She knew Amanda would recognize her from school. Not that they’d shared the same friends, what with their age difference, but Carmel High School wasn’t that big. Amanda would know who she was. Plus, everyone knew Willow’s father…

  “Aren’t you Willow Cavanaugh?” Amanda asked in a high-pitched voice, her gaze narrowed.

  Willow offered her a bland smile. “I am.”

  “What are you doing working a cheesy little set-up like this when your father represents half of the Monterey Bay?” Amanda sneered.

  “Mandy, please,” Phil Whitmore chastised before turning to Willow. “And it’s a lovely little set-up you have here, Miss Cavanaugh.”

  “Thank you. Won’t you please sit down?” She escorted them to her desk, her blood boiling in her veins at what Amanda said. God, she’d already faced this sort of problem before but on a much smaller scale. She was an idiot to forget the fact that Phillip Whitmore and Walter Cavanaugh definitely moved in the same social circles.

  They’d all wonder what the heck Willow was doing, trying to grow her own business when in their eyes, she didn’t need to.

  Once they were settled in their seats, Phil launched into a detailed explanation, talking so quickly his daughter couldn’t get a word in. Weird, considering in these types of situations normally it was the mother who helped organize a bridal shower. At the very least, the maid of honor and the bridesmaids were the ones she met up with to discuss bachelorette party details.

  But the bride and her father planning a Vegas bachelorette party together? That was a first.

  “The main reason we’re having such a large party for Mandy is because she’s launching a new business,” Phil said excitedly. “And we are inviting every female we know in the Monterey and Carmel area to come for the weekend. We’ll host a fabulous party, offer them swag bags and hopefully, have completed a lot of orders by Sunday afternoon.”

  Mandy rolled her eyes and smoothed her bright blond hair back from her face, her gigantic diamond ring catching the light and nearly blinding Willow. “So cheesy,” she murmured.

  Phil glared at his daughter. “We’ll see what you’re saying when the business truly starts gaining speed after your party.”

  “May I ask what sort of product you’re selling?” Willow tapped away at her iPad, taking copious notes. This wasn’t so much a celebration of Amanda’s impending marriage. More like an executive business decision—a party they could write off as an expense.

  Funny how Amanda was giving her nothing but grief when she was doing the very thing she’d hassled Willow over—starting a business on her own.

  “Hair extensions,” Amanda said with a heavy sigh.

  Willow paused her fingers above the keyboard, flicking her gaze up to watch the Whitmores carefully. “Extensions?”

  Phil nodded. “They’re the latest craze, you know.”

  “More like the latest craze three years ago,” Amanda retorted, her voice rising. Okay…clearly there was some tension between them.

  “As if you understand the current market. Your personal experience is with expensive extensions that cost what the average person makes in a year and they only last three months.” Phil waved his hand, shooting a smile in Willow’s direction. “We’re trying to sell quality extensions that any woman can afford.”

  Willow hated to even think it, but she had to agree with Amanda. There were so many other inexpensive hair extensions out there, why would they want to launch yet another one? They’d most likely get lost in the gigantic sea of brands already available on the market. “Sounds wonderful,” she said with a fake smile. She needed to steer them back to the matter at hand, not let them continue arguing. “So you’re serious when you say five hundred people will be in attendance?”

  “I certainly hope so,” he boomed, looking affronted. “The guest list has been cultivated, and invitations will be sent out soon. I wanted to confirm your participation first, though. I’d like you to create a signature drink for Mandy’s new business venture.”

  “All right. What were you thinking?” Shit. They’d probably want to name it something stupid, too.

  “Something similar to the cotton candy cocktail you serve currently but with a little more edge. I was thinking of calling it…” Phil grinned. “Hair on the dog. Or maybe…hair on the head. You know, a play on words and all that?”

  “Daddy, that sucks so bad, I can’t believe you said it.” Amanda rolled her eyes again, which helped them launch into another argument.

  Willow waited patiently, checking her email real quick on her iPad, letting them hammer out the angry details amongst themselves. Maybe she’d been too quick to agree to do this party. The potential for future clientele was enormous but at what price? She could already tell Phil Whitmore might be a bit of a handful. Not to mention his bitchy, confrontational daughter.

  At least her own dad didn’t push this hard and take over her business. She got tired of his constant, let me give you money, make sure you’re making the right decisions speeches, but at least he didn’t push himself on her.

  “May I ask you a question, Mr. Whitmore?” Willow asked once they’d stopped squabbling.

  “By all means.” He beamed at her, looking quite pleased with himself.

  “How exactly did you find out about my business?” She offered him a serene smile, her curiosity growing with every increasingly uncomfortable moment as he squirmed in his seat.

  “Um…” His voice trailed off. “Saw you on the Internet.”

  “Give me a break.” More eye rolling from Amanda. They’d fall right out of her head if she didn’t watch it. “Your dad talked to my dad. Thought it would be fun to keep us both entertained with our businesses and all, right Daddy?”

  Willow immediately saw red. No way would she allow herself to be compared to this dumb girl and her playing pretend with a business she didn’t even believe in. Sweet Treats was nothing like whatever the hell they were calling Mandy’s hair extensions business.

  “That isn’t how it happened at all,” Phil whispered harshly. “You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut.”

  “No really, I appreciate Mandy’s honesty.” Willow set the iPad on her desk and clasped her hands together. “Nice to know my father thinks it’s so cute that I’m playing with my business like a game of Monopoly.”

  “Now Willow…”

  “Oh Daddy, stop. I think you’ve stepped in it enough.” Good ol’ Mandy actually shot her a sympathetic glance. “We need to get going, but are we definitely confirmed for the weekend of December twentieth through the twenty-second? We plan on having a meet and greet on Friday night and would love it if you worked that event as well.”

  Willow nodded, making more notes. Funny how Amanda could be serious when she wanted to be. “Can I send you a contract agreement to the email address you provided?”

  “Sounds great.” Amanda stood, her father following her lead. “I’ll call you next week, and we can make firmer arrangements. Perhaps we can meet again and plan the logistics of the weekend?”

  “Sounds fabulous. Thanks so much.�
�� After shaking their hands, Willow watched them leave, curious as to the dynamics of the family. How they just behaved made no damn sense, but who was she to judge? She had her own warped relationship with her father. As a matter of fact…

  Whipping out her cell phone, she hit speed dial and waited for him to pick up. The moment his smooth voice sounded over the line, she exploded. “How dare you go out and solicit business for me from freaking Phillip Whitmore and his bitchy daughter!”

  “Whoa there, wait a second. You’d think my daughter would be happy I’m sending business her way.” Walter chuckled, like he had no idea how mad he’d just made her.

  “I told you I wanted to try and make it on my own, not count on you to send your business contacts my way.” She blew out a harsh breath, knowing she sounded like an ungrateful bitch. Worse, she sounded just like Amanda Whitmore.

  That was the slap of reality she needed. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just sensitive about everything right now. I’ve gotten this far without your help and the minute I move into a store front, you’re sending customers my way as if you’re afraid I might not make my rent payments.” Whipping off her black-framed glasses that she didn’t even need to wear, she wearily rubbed the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

  “I didn’t send Phil to you because I’m afraid your customer base might dry up. I sent Phil because I’m proud of you, sweetheart,” her dad explained. “You’ve come so far in such a short amount of time, and I want you to be a huge hit. I knew Phil’s party for his daughter’s silly new business would bring you a lot of attention—and business. That’s why I did it.”

  Her heart softened and she opened her eyes, leaned back in her chair. His words warmed her heart, as much as she hated to admit it. It was the respect, the gratification she’d been looking for from him for…years. Her father had always been there for her. Not her mother, never her mother, but she could always count on her dad. “I appreciate the referral so much, Dad. I really do. Maybe next time you could warn me though? His sudden call felt sort of out of left field.”

  “We’ve been playing golf together for years. In fact, I was on the golf course with him when he started talking about the hair extensions business he was funding for his daughter. He wants her to be on her own when she gets married. Her fiancé is a deadbeat, according to Phil.”

  “Really?” Oh, this was interesting.

  “Doesn’t want to work, extremely lazy. Mandy’s always begging for money so Phil thought he’d start a business for her, and she could take over. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a losing venture. Not that he would listen to me anyway.” Her dad chuckled. “They’re calling it Wig It.”

  Willow frowned. “But they’re selling extensions, not wigs.”

  “I know.” Walter sighed. “Trust me, I know. The daughter wanted to call it Wig Out, but Phil said a firm no on that suggestion.”

  Willow started to laugh, the tension slowly easing out of her shoulders. “I hope you never looked at my business like Phil Whitmore does for his daughter.”

  “I’ll confess, at first I wondered if starting a cotton candy catering business was the right thing to do. You do have to admit it sounds like a bit of a stretch. I was afraid you might be wasting your time.” His voice softened. “But you’ve made such a go of it, never giving up on your dreams. I’m proud of you, Willow. More than you’ll ever know.”

  Hearing him say those words eased the tightness in her chest, the icy cold grip on her heart. Her father believed in her. Was proud of her success. She never thought she would see this happen. That she could actually do something on her own, without her father’s help. “Thanks Dad,” she said softly. “I’m just following my dream.”

  “Of making sure everyone eats more cotton candy?” She could hear the humor in his voice, and it made her smile.

  “No, that I can create something that belongs just to me. That I don’t need to stand in the shadow of you or my mom or anyone else,” she answered.

  “How is your mother?” He always asked. She rarely could give him an answer, since she didn’t talk much to her mom.

  “I have no idea.” And didn’t that hurt? Her mom thought she was wasting her time living in Monterey. She’d begged Willow to come live with her in Europe when Willow had been a teen. She’d wanted her to become a model and live in Paris, walk the catwalk and become some couture designer’s muse.

  Willow’d had no interest. Fashion was so not her thing and she heard horror stories of how the girls were treated. Forget it. She’d rather make it on her smarts than her looks any day. She didn’t want to be just another pretty face.

  Though it never hurt to hear those sweet full-of-praise words Nick offered her so easily.

  Frowning, she shoved him from her mind. Their forced date was scheduled for tonight, and she hadn’t heard from him. Not even a simple text like he promised. Not that she wanted to focus on his crappy treatment of her, what with everything going on with her business, but still. He wasn’t making good on his promises.

  And that irritated the life out of her.

  “You should let her know about your latest success,” he encouraged. “I’m sure she’d be proud.”

  Yeah, right. She so didn’t want to talk about her mom right now. “I’ll call her,” she promised blithely, not meaning it whatsoever.

  “Good. So you’re not mad at me for sending you potential clients? You know you’re going to make a killing after you do the Whitmore party. The Wig It launch.” They both laughed.

  “I hope so.” She paused. “But it’s right before Christmas.”

  “What day exactly?” he asked.

  She told him the dates, heard the disappointment in his voice. “I’m going to Aspen. I leave the twentieth and won’t be back until just before the New Year. I’d hoped you could go with me.”

  “That’s sweet, Dad, but there’s no way that’s possible.” Great, she was going to spend Christmas all alone. Oh, she bet Sheridan would take her in, but did she want to hang out with the two lovebirds and watch them slobber all over each other on Christmas Day?

  Plus, it would only remind her of Nick. And how he really wasn’t hers and he was blackmailing her to go on a string of dates with him. Which was freaking crazy if she thought about it for too long.

  So she didn’t.

  “We might be able to plan something.” Her dad sounded hopeful but she figured he was just saying that for her benefit, to try to make her feel better.

  “That would be nice.” They talked for a few minutes and then she hung up, feeling both happy and a little sad. Happy her father was so proud of her. Sad that she might not be able to spend the holiday with him, when she always did.

  Huh. And irritated that Nick hadn’t called or texted her yet regarding their upcoming date. Odd. He always made sure he contacted her when he said he would. She refused to text him first though. No way did she want to give him the upper hand.

  No way.

  Chapter Eight

  Nick smiled when his cell buzzed again. He knew who it was. And he wasn’t one to usually play games but hell, he was perplexed as to how to go about this situation with Willow. Listening to Jared had been the best advice he’d taken in a long while.

  Grabbing his phone, he glanced at the screen.

  Are we going out tonight or what?

  He chuckled and shook his head. Her first text had asked if he was ignoring her. He’d replied with a simple nope. Got a lot going on.

  She clearly hadn’t appreciated that.

  Not that he was lying. He’d been asked to come in and have a meeting with Harvey Price, the Hawks’ lead publicist. If anything made him more nervous than dealing with an irritable Willow Cavanaugh, it was dealing with a smooth-as-you-please Harvey Price.

  The man, quite frankly, gave Nick the heebie-jeebies.

  He sat in Harvey’s office waiting for him to show up, surprised no one else seemed to be around. Usually at least one of the coaches liked to step in during these ty
pes of meetings, as a buffer more than anything else.

  Maybe he should text Willow back. She was probably furious. Deciding he’d better text her, he grabbed his phone at the same time the door opened, revealing Harvey standing with a really pretty, really young-looking woman.

  Shoving his phone in his pocket, Nick stood, smiling at the both of them. “Harvey, tell me this pretty young thing doesn’t have to work for you.”

  She blushed and came toward him, her hand extended. “Hi, Nick. I’m Aubrey.”

  “Well, hello there, Aubrey.” He flashed her a full wattage smile and shook her hand, amused by her pink cheeks. She had long, dark red hair and golden brown eyes, a pert nose and a becoming smile. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nick.” Harvey’s voice was full of warning. “Aubrey is your new publicist. I’m handing you over to her.”

  “Well, aren’t I lucky? She sure is a lot prettier than you, Harvey.” He winked at Aubrey and she flashed him a pretty smile in return.

  Damn, his charm seemed to work on this woman. So why wouldn’t it work on Willow? He didn’t get it. Why the hell did everything go south when he got into the vicinity of the woman he wanted more than anyone else?

  Pushing all thoughts of Willow out of his head, he turned to Harvey. “So why you giving me away, Harv? I thought I was your favorite player.”

  Harvey rolled his eyes and gestured for them all to sit. “We recently hired Aubrey to take care of some of the players, and I thought you and she would be a good match.”

  “Watch out, darlin’. I just might blow your mind when you watch me play out on the field,” he drawled. Well hell, why did he go and say that? It was like he couldn’t help himself. Not that he was interested. His brain and body were tuned into all Willow, all the time.

  Aubrey sat across from him. Her cheeks were still a faint pink when she met his gaze, though her expression was all business. “I was given fair warning about you and your lethal charm.”