by Maria Geraci
“But he’s out with this other woman? He sounds like a regular prince.”
Aubrey was expecting Charity to agree with her. Instead, the older woman regarded her with even greater disdain than before. “Boom-Boom can’t help it if women throw themselves at him.”
O-kay. Maybe it was time to change the subject. “So, Charity, I’m new in town, which, of course you know, but I was wondering. What does a girl do on a Saturday night around here?”
Charity smiled sweetly, which should have been a huge clue to what was coming next. “There’s absolutely nothing to do here. Mimosa Key is about as boring as boring gets. I suggest you and your partner skedaddle back to where you came from.”
Aubrey grit her teeth. Maybe the next time she needed gas she’d make the trek over the bridge to nearby Naples. Except, that would be giving up, and she wasn’t a quitter. Nope. Making Charity Grambling tolerate her wasn’t enough anymore. She’d make the old grump like her if it was the last thing she did on earth.
#
Aubrey parked her Jeep in back of the office she and Felicity and Jack had rented together. The space had been empty for over a year and it had taken the three of them almost two days to make it habitable. They’d dusted, cleaned and painted the three rooms and reception area, put in sleek white desks and a couple of leather couches and, thanks to Felicity’s mother, a local artist, they even had original artwork on the walls.
The dual office was trendy, chic and ready to go. Now all they needed was clients, which wouldn’t be a problem for Jack. His family’s law firm had their main office two hours away in Miami. Jack would spend two days a week there, and the rest of his time drumming up new business for his own firm, one that would handle the small problems of the everyday man. With Jack’s reputation, securing clients should be a walk in the park. But for Felicity and Aubrey, who were total unknowns? They were going to have to dig deep and work hard to bring in business.
Aubrey set the donuts next to the coffee machine and took a swig of her cold water. August in Florida was brutal. It was nine in the morning and she was sweating already. She dumped her tote bag on top of her desk and followed the sound of Jack and Felicity’s voices to the adjoining room.
“Hey, guys.”
They both looked up and smiled like two happy people in love. Jack had on a designer power suit that made the man look like a god. But Felicity hadn’t fallen in love with him for his looks. Besides being smart, he was compassionate and way into his family, traits that her friend had found hard to resist. Aubrey was happy for them. She really was. She just wished they would slow things down a bit.
“You aren’t going to believe what just fell into our laps.” Felicity’s brown eyes shone with an excitement Aubrey immediately recognized. It was her professional “things are looking up for us” grin.
“The Barefoot Brides signed a contract?” Aubrey held her breath waiting for her partner to give the thumbs up sign. If their fledging PR company could score the upscale wedding consultants as their first client, the rest of the nearby businesses would sit up and take notice.
“Not yet. This is something…different.”
Aubrey tried to hide her disappointment. “Oh. So what is it?”
“It’s not anything we’ve done before,” Felicity said, “which of course, makes it a great challenge and, if we succeed in making the client happy, I’m pretty sure he’ll throw more business our way.”
From the odd tone in her partner’s voice, Aubrey was beginning to suspect that she wasn’t going to love what came next. “Who’s the client?”
“Phil Durant.”
Aubrey tried to place the name, but came up blank. “What kind of business are we looking at?”
“He’s a sports agent,” Jack said. “A very successful one, too. He’s also an attorney. We went to Harvard Law together.”
“A sports agent who’s also an Ivy League attorney? Sounds glamorous. Okay, so does he need a marketing campaign to bring in more clients? Or—”
“It’s more like a…personal one-on-one job. He has a client who needs some major rehab to his rep.” Felicity’s smile was now definitely forced.
They’d never done damage control before, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She pulled out her notebook and a pen. This was the part of her job she loved and was so good at. Felicity was the creative one, but Aubrey was a master at details. “So who’s the client in need of rehab and when do we start?”
“That’s just it,” Felicity said. “This isn’t really a we project. Right now I’m putting everything I have into the Barefoot Brides campaign, so this will have to be your baby. Plus, Phil Durant asked specifically for you. He read your bio on our website and was really impressed. I’m afraid this is going to consume almost all your time for the next four weeks. But if we do this right, Phil is willing to pay us a really top fee.”
He’d asked specifically for her? Aubrey didn’t know whether to be flattered or worried. She really hoped she wouldn’t muck this up. “How much money are we talking about?”
“Twenty-five thousand. Half up front now and the rest when the work is complete.”
It was exactly the kind of cash influx the firm needed. “I’m totally ready to do my part to make Reed and Adams the premier PR firm on Florida’s west coast. Besides, it’s not like I have a life,” she joked.
“Great!” Felicity pulled out a familiar looking magazine and flipped it open to the middle. “This is—”
“Brian Boom-Boom Callahan, baseball’s biggest, baddest playboy.”
Jack looked surprised. “I didn’t know you liked baseball.”
“I don’t. But I was just at the Super Min and Charity Grambling was going on and on about this guy and—wait. This is the damage control? Our client is Boom-Boom Callahan?”
“Not Boom-Boom exactly, more like Phil, his agent,” Felicity explained. “Unfortunately, this little indiscretion of his has made the Bombers’ new owners take action.”
Jack went on to clarify. “Brian has a morality clause in his contract and the new owners want to teach him a lesson, so they’ve sent him down to the minors for the next four weeks. He’s going to be playing for the Barefoot Bay Bucks, which is awesome for the Bucks, but of course, not so great for Brian. His contract is up for renewal and Phil doesn’t want to give the franchise any excuse to not give him exactly what he deserves. So, your job is to keep a close eye on Brian and make sure he doesn’t do anything dumb.”
They expected her to play babysitter to a spoiled, womanizing athlete for the next four weeks? She’d worked on million dollar accounts, could organize an office, and had even designed the agency’s new website. But if this is what Felicity needed her to do, then she’d do it, because she was a team player, and because they needed the money, and, really, how hard could it be to keep this Boom-Boom character out of the papers?
“No worries,” she reassured Felicity. “I got this.”
CHAPTER THREE
Fate had been damn good to Brian Callahan. He’d been born into a middle class family with a mom who’d stayed home and baked cookies and a dad who’d spent the weekends tossing him a baseball. He’d graduated from high school at the top of his class and earned a full athletic scholarship to the University of Arizona. He’d played eight years in the majors for the team of his dreams and he made more money than he knew what to do with.
But today, fate had turned its back on him, because today Brian had been sent down to a minor league team so inconsequential they didn’t even have a proper liaison to meet him at the airport. The baseball gods must be laughing from a skybox up high.
Of course, he couldn’t blame it all on fate. No one had forced him to take off all his clothes and run through a parking lot full of paparazzi. The only person he could blame for that was himself.
He hitched his equipment bag over his shoulder, then glanced around the small airport. How in hell had he ended up here? They hadn’t even sent him down to the Bombers’ triple A feeder team. At lea
st there he’d be with Marcus.
Who were these Barefoot Bay Bucks, anyway? Spending the next four weeks playing for a team still in its inaugural season was about as far as he could fall. He should be back home in Tucson. Sure, the Bombers weren’t going to make the playoffs, but he could help them end their season with some dignity.
According to his agent the new owners had been grumbling about renewing his contract. Phil could get him more money with another team, but Brian didn’t want to play for another team. And he sure as shit didn’t want to be traded for pitching talent. The fans wanted better pitchers but not at the expense of the big hits they’d come to expect from him.
The new owners had made a mistake. A mistake they’d realize when their ticket sales went down the crapper. They’d change their minds soon enough when the fans demanded Brian’s return.
He readjusted his sunglasses and made sure to keep his head low as he weaved his way through the small crowd toward the baggage claim. He watched as suitcase after suitcase went around the carousel, but his wasn’t on it.
Great. No suitcase, no team liaison, and absolutely no idea how to get to Mimosa Key or where he was supposed to bunk out tonight.
Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, he noticed a middle-aged man wearing a golf shirt and shorts staring at him. He should go to the airline counter and put in a claim on the suitcase, but there wasn’t anything in it he couldn’t easily replace. What he needed right now was to get the hell out of here before someone recognized him.
He started walking away, but it was too late. The man placed himself directly in Brian’s path. “Boom-Boom? Is that you?”
As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t very well deny who he was. Eventually, the whole baseball world was going to find out about his humiliation, but he wasn’t prepared for this, damn it. He pulled off his sunglasses, then gave the man the thousand-dollar smile that had graced dozens of sports magazines over the past eight years. “Yes, sir, that’s me.”
“Damn, boy! What are you doing here in Florida in the middle of the season?”
“I wish I could say I was on vacation, but I’m here because—”
“He’s going to be helping out the Barefoot Bay Bucks for the next few weeks!” came a cheerful female voice.
He turned to find a woman, probably mid-to-late twenties with shoulder-length brown hair, smiling up at him. Her narrow black skirt, four-inch stilettos and pearls made her stand out from the rest of the T-shirt and shorts-clad crowd.
“Hello!” She extended her hand toward him. “I’m Aubrey Adams, and of course, you’re Brian Callahan. Sorry I’m late! But don’t worry, I have everything under control.”
She was average height for a woman, which meant at six-four, even with her heels, he towered over her. She had green, wide-set eyes and her lightly tanned skin had just a smidge of freckles across a cute little nose. Add in the kind of legs that went on for forever and he was officially a goner. Innocent and sexy at the same time. It was an intoxicating combination and, for the first time in a week, Brian genuinely smiled. If this angel was who he thought she was, then fate had just thrown him a bone.
Her hand felt small and warm in his, and he was relieved to see a pretty flush of color spread across her cheeks. She was as aware of him as he was of her. Aubrey Adams of the Barefoot Bay Bucks, was going to be an extremely satisfying distraction for the next few weeks.
Golf shirt guy turned to him, clearly confused. “You’re playing for the Bucks? Is this some kind of joke? Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see prime talent such as yourself down here helping the new team, but there’s no way the Bombers would send you down to the minors. Unless they’re smoking the peyote weed out west.”
Exactly. Brian couldn’t have said it better himself.
Aubrey moistened her bottom lip and any thoughts of angels were completely wiped out of his mind. That mouth was made for sin and Brian wouldn’t mind being the one who’d have to make her hit the confessional. “The Barefoot Bay Bucks are fortunate to have Mr. Callahan on loan from the Bombers, just for the next month,” she explained. “I’m sure you can imagine how exciting this is for the community, having a premier player like him on our team.”
“Wow.” Golf shirt guy shook his head. “Boom-Boom Callahan playing for the Barefoot Bay Bucks! Say, you don’t mind if I get a picture, do you?” he asked, pulling his cell phone out of the front pocket of his shirt.
Before he could answer, Aubrey deftly plucked the phone from the guy’s hands. “Boom-Boom loves having pictures taken with his loyal fans!” She indicated where she wanted them to stand and began snapping a series of shots.
A couple of travelers stopped to watch and soon a small crowd had gathered. Everyone knew who he was and if they didn’t, Aubrey was quick to tell them. She knew everything about him, citing his latest stats and how he was the only Bomber to make the All Star Team the last four years in a row. If he was the type of guy to get a big head, then his skull should have exploded. She smiled directly at him, and Brian was once again hit with just how damn pretty she was. It was like she was a five-foot-four, walking and talking baseball encyclopedia and he was already halfway in love.
“Are you here because of this?” asked a female fan waving a magazine in the air. He recognized it as one of the dozen gossip rags that featured his naked run through The Bomb Shelter parking lot.
His mind went back to the rehearsed speech he’d given at the press conference his agent had forced him to do a few days ago, something about being immature and being sorry that he’d embarrassed the team, but before he could recite it, Aubrey spoke up. “Boom-Boom has quite the uh, physique, doesn’t he?”
The crowd laughed and the woman with the magazine made a loud predatory growling sound that made his ears turn red. Aubrey laughed along with them. “Unfortunately, yes, the article you’re referring to is the reason Mr. Callahan is here, but isn’t it lucky for us? I, for one, can’t wait to see him play his first game as a Buck.”
This last part was met with a unanimous murmur of approval. Brian went back to signing autographs while Aubrey handed out free tickets to the Bucks games, smiled like crazy and worked the crowd like a pro. Somehow, she’d managed to take what he’d anticipated as a bad situation and made the whole thing…fun.
After a little while, she neatly separated him from the crowd in a way that made him look reluctant, which he was. He could be here all day talking baseball to his fans. He grinned and waved goodbye to the onlookers. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time. Certainly not since the parking lot debacle at The Bomb Shelter.
He took back the foul thoughts he’d been having about the Bucks. The organization wasn’t as backward as he’d thought. Not with a professional like Aubrey Adams working for them.
What was her official job title, he wondered. PR? Office staff? Whatever it was she did, he’d see to it that she got a raise. Or better yet, maybe he could get her a job with the Bombers. Working for a small minor league team must be her stepping stone to the majors and if he could be the one to help her…
He’d have to be careful. He’d never gotten involved with anyone he worked with. It would be tricky, but it was obvious by the warm smiles and the admiration in her voice that she had a thing for him. And the feeling was more than mutual.
#
Aubrey felt like her face was going to fall off but she kept smiling anyway. She’d stayed up all night reading everything she could get her hands on about Brian Callahan. The man was nothing but ego. Freud would have had a field day with him. A few well-memorized stats and a constant smile, and he’d be putty in her hands.
Still, if the crowd here at the airport was any indication, keeping “Boom-Boom” out of the papers might be tricky. The man was like the Pied Piper. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the crowd following him and it was obvious he loved the attention, so keeping him away from the media would probably be impossible. But if she could keep the focus positive and upbeat (which meant h
e’d have to keep his clothes on), then that could only help his reputation, right?
The next four weeks would be exhausting, but the money they’d make on this job would give them a nice little nest egg to carry them over the next few months. And if they could just get the Barefoot Brides account, the firm would be in decent shape.
She turned and looked up at him. Dear lord, the man was tall. And yes, she could admit, incredibly handsome. During last night’s crunch study of Brian Callahan, she’d run across the People magazine Charity had referenced. World’s Sexiest Man seemed like an almost tame description. With his dark blond hair and whiskey-colored eyes he looked more like Josh Duhamel than the actor himself.
If he wasn’t who he was, Aubrey would have been smitten. But spoiled, womanizing star athletes weren’t her type, not to mention he was way out of her league. Plus, there was the fact that he was dating Taylor Swift! Maybe if the next four weeks went well, he could get her a complimentary ticket to one of her concerts.
“So, I think that went fabulously. Don’t you?” she asked. They were still in the airport, but it was the first time she’d gotten to speak to him without a horde of people around them.
He smiled and her insides went all gooey. Maybe spoiled, womanizing athletes were her type after all.
No. No. No. He was a job and she was the help. She’d noticed the way he’d checked her out upon meeting her. So he found her attractive. Big deal. He probably found all women under the age of sixty attractive. If she let her guard down for even one second… Aubrey Adams wasn’t anyone’s groupie. She was a professional and he was the client. She could handle this.
“It went great. You’re good, but then you probably know that already.”
“Thanks.” She noticed that all he had was an oddly shaped bag slung over one shoulder. “Where’s the rest of your luggage?”
“I checked a bag but it didn’t arrive. I was on my way to the airline counter when you showed up.”