“Indirectly.” Claire waved off Riley’s concern. “Someone is going after you. You’re being painted as an aggressive man vacuum.”
“That’s lovely.” Riley looked at the photo again. “I suppose it could be worse.”
“It is.”
“I don’t want to know, do I?”
“If I could spare you, I would.” Claire’s eyes were filled with sympathy. Scroll down.”
Resigned, and sporting a major knot in her stomach, Riley moved her thumb over the screen. There were five more pictures. With five different players. The content was similar to the others. Friendly smiles and casual touches.
Three of the players pictured were married, the other two in long-term, committed relationships.
Each caption was nastier than the last. Finally, under a photo montage, were two words. Team Bicycle?
“As in everybody’s had a ride?”
The phone belonged to Claire. Otherwise, it would be across the room, smashed against the wall. To be safe, Riley handed it back.
“I don’t give a flying leap what anyone thinks of me.” Riley didn’t simply say it. She meant it. “The first picture was one thing. I’m worried about the players’ wives. If things are uncomfortable at home, it could translate to the locker room. Then to the field.”
“Nip it in the bud.”
“How?”
Riley was frozen. Inside and out. Sensing her friend’s emotions, Claire gently led her to the sofa. Once she had her seated, she went to the kitchen.
“Be proactive,” Claire said as she filled the kettle.
Riley owned few appliances. She didn’t use them, why have them sitting around gathering dust? However, an electric kettle was a must. Coffee was her drink of choice. She spread the love to coffee shops all over the city. At home, she went for tea. In her opinion, making a good cup of coffee was an art that she left to the experts. Tea, on the other hand, required only hot water and a bag. Even she couldn’t screw that up.
“My grandfather was my first love. Football my second.” Closing her eyes, Riley rubbed her temples. A headache was imminent and it was going to be a doozy. “I lost him. Am I going to lose my team, too?”
“No.” Claire didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not. The players have your back, Riley. Most of the wives don’t know you. Call them. Arrange a meeting.”
“A meeting.” Riley ran the idea around in her head. It made sense. “This could be tricky. Casual girlfriends shouldn’t be included, but how can I determine the state of a relationship?”
“Or,” Claire set a steaming cup of tea on the glass table in front of Claire. “You go to the leaders. Every group has them. The Knights have Gaige and a few other guys, and wives have…?”
“Racine Fellows.”
Claire’s solution was brilliant. Single out the alpha. It worked in business. Why not in a sticky situation not of her making?
“Sol’s wife.” Claire smiled. “I like her. She shoots straight.”
Claire characterized Racine Fellows to perfection. She and Sol married straight out of high school. While he played college ball, Racine had a baby, held down a job, and went to school. By the time Sol was drafted by the Knights, Racine had her degree and two small children.
Most women would have relaxed and enjoyed her husband’s success. Not Racine. She started her own business and gave birth to twins. She was a good mother. A loving wife. A kick-ass CEO. And one of Riley’s all time favorite people.
Riley decided to wait until the next day to contact Racine. Sunday nights were sure to be busy. Four kids who had school the next day and a husband back from his weekly game. Riley didn’t want to be any more of a disruption. Especially when she needed a favor.
“Tomorrow is soon enough—” Riley picked up her phone. Looking at the caller ID, she smiled. “Hello, Racine. We were just talking about you.”
Ten minutes later, Riley felt as though everything was going to be okay.
“You did a lot of nodding and not much talking. I take it from your expression Racine has things under control.”
“She’s a wonder. And maybe a mind reader. We are going to lunch at her home tomorrow.”
“We?”
“She’s invited a few of her close friends. Plus the wives and girlfriends of the men in the pictures. The only way to fight stupidity is with intelligence. That’s a direct quote from Racine.”
“I think I’m in love.”
“Stand in line.” Riley took a sip of tea. It was cold, but she didn’t notice. “I don’t know if this is about the team or me.”
“Both?”
“Maybe. Racine is helping us divert potential disaster because her husband’s team is involved. And because she’s a friend.” Riley looked at Claire. “I seem to be blessed in that department.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Beats me.”
“You only have good friends if you’re willing to be one. I think I can speak for Racine when I say we’re lucky to have you.”
“I’m about to get weepy. I think we need something stronger than tea.”
“Amen.”
As Riley opened the cabinet where she kept the liquor, the intercom buzzed.
“Stuart, if they aren’t carrying a box with pizza in it, we are not home.”
“No pizza. Will egg rolls and fried rice do?”
Riley smiled. Pizza be damned. Chinese and Sean? Yes, please.
“I should go.”
“Is that Claire?” Sean asked. “Tell her to stay put. Logan and Gaige are right behind me.”
“Come on up. We’re about to break out a very old bottle of whiskey.”
“Are we celebrating?”
Riley heard the concern in Sean’s voice. He must have seen the pictures. Take-out and friends. He was surrounding her with plenty of support. If Riley hadn’t loved him before, her heart would be making a fast tumble.
“Bring me an egg roll and I’ll tell you about it.”
“You have a deal.”
THERE WAS NO doubt in Riley’s mind that women ruled the world. At least her world.
Lunch at Racine Fellow’s house wasn’t like the get-togethers Riley had witnessed growing up. There were no crustless sandwiches accompanied by tiny bowls of clear, tasteless consumé.
Racine served stick to your ribs fare, and she expected everyone to eat like they meant it. No picking at your food or worrying about calories. What was the point of living if you spent ninety percent of your time hungry and miserable?
“Try some of those sweet potatoes.” Riley noticed when Racine coaxed, her Georgia accent became thicker.
“My trainer would have a fit if she saw all this food.” Diane Porter sighed, then took another bite of fried chicken. The girlfriend of tight end Jamal Fisk was an internationally known model with her own reality show. “Oh, who the hell cares. I pay her, not the other way around.”
“There you go.” Racine clinked wine glasses with the other woman.
Riley appreciated the casual atmosphere. Jeans, sneakers, flats, ponytails, and minimal makeup ruled the day. Ten women with little in common except football. Or rather, the men who played the game.
They were members of an exclusive club. Thousands applied, few were accepted. And each was determined to hold on to what they had. It made Riley’s position awkward.
Girlfriend? She was reluctant to categorize her relationship with Sean. It was too new and precarious. Right now, she enjoyed all things Sean. His company. His sense of humor. His fabulous athletic body and the unbelievable way his slightest touch made her feel.
They hadn’t discussed what they were to each other or anything about the future. Riley wanted more. She wanted it all. However, she knew it could change on a dime. She enjoyed the here and now. As her grandfather used to say, worry about today. Tomorrow has a way of taking care of itself.
As with all of Douglas Preston’s advice, Riley took it to heart. Today wasn’t about Sean. It was about convincing a group of wo
men who didn’t know her or trust her. Every day they dealt with groupies trying to seduce their men. The pictures had to have stirred up some fierce emotions.”
“How are you doing?”
“No one has spit in my eye. Yet.” Riley smiled at Racine. “I’ve been mingling. When I join them, the temperature cools considerably.”
“You have three things going against you.”
“Only three?” Riley maintained her smile, but inwardly, she groaned.
“First. They don’t know you. Not your fault. Today is the first step in remedying that,” Racine assured her. “Second. You are management, which gives better access than your average groupie.”
“Groupie? Me?”
“Three,” Racine pushed on. “Your mother.”
Riley swallowed. Hard. She had thought of that but hoped it wouldn’t be an issue. Hearing it from Racine shot that hope all to hell.
“I wish I didn’t have to ask this. How many of their men has my mother…?”
“Hit on?”
“I’ll breathe a sigh of relief if that was as far as she got.”
“Nine women. Nine hits. No completions. That I know of. People lie. I doubt that comes as any surprise.”
Riley sighed. Well, crap. “Sol, too?”
“During his first training camp.”
Riley wished the floor would open up and swallow her alive.
“Racine. I don’t know what to say.”
“Sol turned her down. Flat.” Racine’s eyes grew hard when she thought about it. “But, even if he hadn’t, it wouldn’t be your fault, Riley.”
“We wouldn’t have become friends.”
“No. We wouldn’t have had the chance. I would have killed Sol. Then your mother. Right now, I would be serving a life sentence over in Walla Walla.”
“Is that the secret to a long marriage? The threat of death?”
“That and a whole lot of love.”
Riley felt a twinge of envy. Hell, more like a hard twist—right around her heart. Love wasn’t easy to find—or hold on to. Riley searched her memory for another couple she knew who had what Racine and Sol had. Claire and Logan. They were solid to the core.
That made two. Hardly encouraging numbers.
“Come on. They are full of food and good wine. Time to make our move.”
Riley followed Racine. She wasn’t going to stand in the corner like a naughty child. Shoulders back. Chin high. On the outside, she looked strong and confident. No one needed to know that her insides felt like melting Jell-O.
“Would everyone gather round? Don’t be shy. There are plenty of seats.”
Slowly, the women joined Racine and Riley in the spacious living room. A large moss green sectional filled the space in front of a floor to ceiling stone fireplace. Chairs in a lighter complimentary color were scattered around. It was inviting and homey, with a touch of sophistication. Just like Racine.
Racine didn’t waste time. Once everyone was seated, she addressed the elephant in the room with her usual candor.
“We’ve seen the pictures. I know without a second’s hesitation that they are completely innocent and as bogus as a three-dollar bill. Your men have said as much. Am I right?”
“Where there’s smoke, Racine,” Lynette Trenton said, crossing her arms.
It was a hostile gesture that told Riley the woman had already made up her mind. It didn’t help that Lynette’s husband Kyle was known for his roving eye. The defensive lineman had a reputation for fooling around on the road—and in Seattle.
“There is no smoke, Lynette. Take away the captions and none of us would look twice at the pictures.”
“I believe Miller when he says there’s nothing to it.” Piper Billings’ voice wasn’t loud but it was firm. Her husband was a rookie out of BYU, who made the team as a punt returner. She was sweet and shy. Grateful, Riley knew it must have been difficult for the young woman to speak up.
“Piper, you would believe your husband if he said the sky was green.”
“Oh, button it, Lynette.” Jeanie Skaggs squeezed Piper’s hand. Jeanie wasn’t there as a wronged wife. She, like Racine, was a respected football wife. “Most of us came here today because we felt it was a good idea to clear the air. You and Felicity are the only ones who think anything is going on. The rest of us trust our husbands.”
“I trust Neil,” Felicity Crandall insisted.
“I heard what you were saying, Felicity. You parroted Lynette’s sentiments word for word,” Jeanie sneered.
“I’m a supportive friend.”
“You’re a doormat with big size ten footprints on your back.”
“I do not wear a size ten,” Lynette protested. Unsuccessfully, she tried to tuck her feet under the sofa.
“Ladies.” To Riley, Racine whispered, “And I use the term loosely.”
Riley bit back a smile.
“Bickering isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“What about her mother?” Lynette threw that out with a smug smile.
“What about her?”
“Please, Racine. The term like mother, like daughter comes to mind.”
“It has nothing to do—”
“May I say something?”
“Please,” Racine said. “Riley didn’t have to come here. So please. Hear her out.”
“Racine has known me for ten years. Claire and I are new friends, but it feels like I’ve known her my whole life.”
“Good for you.” Lynette didn’t sneer her words, but it was a near thing. “Is this where we get the poor little rich girl routine?”
“Hell, no.” Riley stood up straighter. “My grandfather was Douglas Preston. He was the finest man I have ever known. I live my life by the example he set. Sometimes I fall short. But understand this. I am proud of who he was and the legacy he left me. Poor little rich girl? Grandpa would laugh his ass off over that term. And kick mine if he thought for a second that was how I portrayed myself.”
The trepidation that had plagued her had vanished in the face of Lynette’s ill-disguised contempt. She wanted the support of the women, but she wasn’t apologizing to anyone for who she was.
“You tell her, Riley,” Jeanie called out.
“It comes down to this.” Riley purposefully looked each woman in the eye. “Football—the Knights—is what gives all of you the lifestyle you rightfully enjoy. Someone is trying to screw with that.”
“Don’t say it, Lynette,” Racine warned.
Screwed. Not the best choice of words. Riley laughed.
“I tried to be delicate and look where it got me,” Riley laughed. “Someone is fucking with the Knights and I refuse to let them. I love this team. I hope you feel the same.”
“I do,” Piper declared. Riley’s curse word had turned her cheeks pink, but her voice was strong. “The Knights took a chance on Mark when no other team wanted him. I’m with you, Riley.”
The other women called out their support, even Felicity Crandall. Lynette didn’t want the issue to die that easily.
“What is this, a Girl Scout Jamboree? Where’s the campfire so we can join hands and sing Kumbaya?”
“I haven’t said anything because most of you don’t know me.” Ignoring Lynette’s taunt, Claire walked over to Riley. “Riley isn’t trying to get into your men’s pants.”
The phrasing sent a ripple of laughter through the room.
“We either trust her, and our men, or we don’t. I trust mine. And I trust Riley. How about you?”
“I trust Sol. And Riley,” Racine stated emphatically.
From there, it quickly snowballed until Lynette was the only one left who hadn’t declared her support.
“Kyle doesn’t screw around. Anymore.”
Riley knew it was as close as the woman would get to jumping on the bandwagon. The important thing was, a potential crisis had been diverted and Riley had established some new friendships.
“Well done, Riley.” Racine hugged her. “Wives and girlfriends have a lot of sway with th
eir men. It never hurts to have them on your side.”
“Something tells me when I’m running the team, these good feelings will be tempered during contract negotiations.”
“No doubt.” Racine laughed.
Her husband faced a new deal at the end of the season. However, that had little to do with Riley. In all likelihood, Sol would be retired before team ownership changed hands.
Riley believed their friendship would survive a contentious negotiation, but she was glad they wouldn’t have to find out.
“That went well,” Riley said when she and Claire headed home.
“Racine knew what she was doing. The women who attended will spread the word. Riley Preston can be trusted with our men.”
“God.” Riley blew out a puff of air. “How did it come to this? I wouldn’t know how to seduce all those men if I wanted to.”
“Seduce? Riley, you’re young and beautiful. Men are easy. With most of them, unintended eye contact is all it takes.”
“I’m glad you didn’t share that opinion today.”
Claire grinned. “I had a great time. Good eats, plenty of juicy gossip, and some old-fashioned snark. Felt like a church social back in Iowa.”
“I’ve never been to a church social.”
Riley changed lanes. The freeway traffic was relatively mild. In an hour, it would be back to back commuters. Racine and Sol lived in Bellevue. The clever woman planned the get-together so anyone headed back to Seattle would miss the late afternoon bottleneck.
“I went for the food and left before anyone tried to save my soul.”
“Was your soul in danger?” Riley enjoyed the stories Claire told about Iowa. She loved Seattle. However, she had always thought living in a small town would be nice. Claire made her rethink that. Neighbors who knew every intimate detail of your personal business? No, thank you.
“Compared to some of my friends, I was an angel. That didn’t stop the true believers from trying to suck me in. I like my religion in small doses—if at all.”
They rode in silence, happy with their own thoughts. Half an hour later, Riley pulled to a stop outside of Claire’s apartment building.
After All These Years (One Pass Away #2) Page 14