“He hasn’t done anything.”
“Then a paternity test will confirm that.”
“You’re delusional.”
“And you can explain to your client how pictures go viral.”
“Pictures of what? He was friendly to random girls-”
“Pretty girls,” Spencer interrupted.
“Very pretty girls,” Liam agreed, just because he was mad and he knew she wouldn’t like it. “He hasn’t done anything wrong. You’re crucifying him for being twenty-one and an athlete. You’re setting him up for some bullshit PR, and it’s going to be a cold day in hell before I let some Texas socialite princess force my client into doing anything he doesn’t want to.”
“You know what I would do, if Troy was my client?” When Liam didn’t answer, Spencer continued. “I would explain to him that this Texas socialite princess is a very reasonable person. She’s not trying to hurt his career. She’s trying to help him, by making a difficult situation go bye-bye as quickly and quietly as possible.
“If he takes a paternity test and he’s not the daddy, everyone goes home, and life continues for the Next Great All-American Virgin Football Hero. If he is, by chance, a father, which is a gift from God and some kind of miracle that’s only been repeated once in history, as far as I know, then we deal with things like adults—quickly and quietly. I would tell my client that Spencer Hightower wants a win-win. If he doesn’t agree, well, it makes him look like a hypocritical liar, and you know who likes hypocritical liars? Not Christians. Not sponsors. Not football teams. No one. No one likes a hypocritical liar.”
“Wait one second, Spencer. I hate to interrupt you, but I’m checking my dictionary…” Liam drew out the word. “Yep. There it is. Your picture right there next to the definition of ‘hypocritical liar’.”
Her shocked gasp said he’d hit his mark.
“What was it you said? ‘I’m not going to Scandals Magazine. I’m going to help you. I make problems go away. Win-win.’ Etc. Et al. Now I’m dealing with Scandals Magazine again. Because of you. Who’s the liar now?”
“Charity.” Frustration filled her voice. “You pulled a charity stunt. That’s just…low.”
Liam wished he could record that quote from Miss Children’s Hospital Benefit. She was fired up, and, God help him, he loved it. His juices were flowing, adrenaline pushing through him, like he was in a huddle, the first play of a playoff game. “You know what I would tell Dalynn, if she were my client?”
“What?” He heard a mix of snappishness and amusement. Awesome.
“I would tell her that she had very good taste in boyfriends. That Troy Duncan is a solid, dependable, upstanding young man. I would tell her that Troy Duncan loves Jesus, his country, and his mama, and that there is nothing that people love more than a football star who loves Jesus, his country, and his mama.” A mischievous smile tugged on Liam’s mouth. “Wait, I just remembered. There is something that people love more. That’s a football star who loves Jesus, the USA, his mama, and Miss Texas.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, it’s looking like a very romantic evening.”
…
Spencer yelled down the hallway. Nora was back in a flash with the details. “The reigning Miss Texas is Kaylee Finley. She’s a twenty-two year old graduate of Sam Houston State, communications major, has aspirations to be a news anchor.”
“Don’t they all,” Spencer sighed. “Call your pageant contacts; we need her coach now.”
Spencer dialed her phone and a familiar voice answered, “This is Roberta. What do you have for me, Ms. Hightower?”
An hour later, Kenny Rogers started singing on Spencer’s phone. “How the hell did you give Miss Texas appendicitis?” Liam growled when Spencer answered the phone.
“Really? Huh. That’s so sad. I heard she was getting something contagious. Like the West African Mosquito Measles.”
“Troy had a nice dinner set up with a beautiful woman, and you ruined it. That wasn’t nice.”
“I think they call it cock-blocking,” Spencer said seriously. “It sounds lethal. I hope Troy recovers soon.”
Liam just laughed softly in response, and Spencer was glad that he was taking this so well. She took the opportunity to clarify a few more things for him.
“Just so you know, I own this town. I own the PR people, I own the reporters. I own the people who deliver pizzas, and I own the people who mow the yards. You got your three days of prayer and community service, because I’m a big fan of those myself. But if you want anything else, it’s going to go through me.”
There was a screech from the direction of the conference room that distracted her when Liam said, “Good to know you won’t cock-block charity works and church-going.”
Someone was yelling her name. Nora. Spencer hustled down the hall, keeping the phone between her cheek and shoulder. She still had to put Mr. Liam Connelly in his place.
“One, there’s something wrong with that statement. Two.” Spencer smirked. “Honey, you could have Troy photographed helping paraplegic blind nuns, I don’t care. Have all the charitable works you want. It’s not stopping this train.”
Spencer found Nora with a bowl of microwave macaroni and cheese standing in front of the TV. “I was hungry,” Nora explained, on the defensive. “I thought I’d see… But then… I see him! Look!” She pointed at the local broadcast. Troy Duncan’s handsome, earnest face was filling the screen. The camera panned back and showed a litter of kittens climbing all over him, and Ashley Cadence—the platinum blonde, pixie-faced sweetheart of country music, beloved by sixteen year old girls (and their moms) across America who adored her innocent lyrics and her outspoken vow of chastity. Spencer turned up the volume. “…While Mr. Duncan and Miss Cadence are just friends, Troy sure looks happy to be volunteering for Ashley’s favorite stray animal charity.”
“Watching Channel Ten?” Liam asked.
Spencer made a few attempts at speech. “How? You! Fucking kittens?”
Nora gasped in shock. Then there was that uber-annoying chuckle on the other end of the line. “You really think I’d set him up with Miss Texas? With her slutty reputation?”
“You…” Spencer searched for just the right name to call him.
Nora made a face and glanced back at the news, now covering a city council meeting. “It makes sense, given their PR strategy. You know, the whole virginity thing.”
Liam’s voice was friendly. “Spencer, here’s one thing I’ll teach you about football. Trick plays. You gotta know how to fake out the other side, sweetheart.”
She stood there, fuming about all that energy she’d put into bribing Miss Texas with a temporary gig at the television station while Liam was faking her out.
Liam’s voice came over the phone again. “What was that you were saying? About owning this town? Tell me more about that, sweetheart.”
“Don’t. Call me. Sweetheart,” was all she could say before hanging up on the only Kenny Rogers-loving jerk who could cock-block her.
Chapter Nineteen
Liam was used to hustling days. The kind where he didn’t stop, didn’t let go. Today had been one of those days. Wheeling, dealing, making plans, and battling Spencer Hightower. All day, he’d wondered about her. The woman made him smile. The woman made him fume. Just knowing she was out there, somewhere, on the top of her game, putting him on the top of his. She threw for a touchdown. He intercepted. Damn, but it was sexy as hell.
Spencer was a quick, clever adversary. Yeah, he liked her. Damn sure lusted after her. But he didn’t know her. He didn’t know what lengths she would go to, to get what her client wanted. And until he knew for sure who she was, he couldn’t risk his whole career on a pretty face and a mouth that brought him to his knees.
This was going to be a tough one.
Liam leaned back in his office chair and propped his feet on his desk. He always plotted better when he was comfortable. The file that Spencer had left with her so-called evi
dence still sat there, mocking him. In truth, he hadn’t really cared what was in the damn thing. No papers or pictures were going to change his ultimate goal of protecting Troy Duncan’s career come hell or high water.
But he needed to know what they were dealing with. The best way to defeat the defense was with a good offense.
Flipping open the file, Liam reviewed the stack of print outs, texts, e-mails, and nude selfies. Sure, it didn’t look good for a guy who was hanging his reputation on an already-iffy claim of sexual purity. But none of it proved that Troy had impregnated anyone.
For the first time in Liam’s happily heterosexual life, he did a double take at a picture of a nude man. Sometimes, he was amazed at his own brilliance.
He picked up the phone and dialed JT Buchanan’s number.
“Do I want to know why you’re asking this?” JT asked.
“I’d rather not say,” Liam hedged.
“Uh huh.” JT didn’t sound convinced. But, as Liam knew he would, JT the lawyer couldn’t resist giving his legal opinion, and then, because Liam wasn’t licensed to practice law in Texas, he asked his old buddy for a favor.
“Thanks man,” Liam said. “I owe you one.”
“Big time. Like Cowboys tickets big,” JT stressed.
The thrill of setting up a play coursed through him when he hung up the phone. Now all he had to do was wait and see what kind of person Spencer Hightower really was.
…
“You have a visitor,” Phil, the firm runner, informed her.
“Who wants to see me?” Spencer glanced up from her computer.
Phil read off the business card he’d been given.
Well, she had no choice but to say yes.
Five minutes later, Spencer had reviewed the delivered documents twice, just to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
Nora and Rainey joined her soon after hearing the office gossip that a process server had visited Spencer.
Spencer handed the letter over and waited.
Nora examined the piece of paper. “The hell?”
Spencer waited for Rainey’s response. Rainey’s mouth settled into a grim line.
“That’s what I thought. Check and mate.”
“Kiddie porn?” The volume of Nora’s voice rose to a dangerous level. “Is he joking? That was a grown man in those pictures!”
Spencer read from the letter. “Examination of the private pictures of the complainant reveals that he may have been a minor at the time of capture. Therefore, further dissemination or publication of said photographs would constitute an illegal distribution of child pornography under all applicable federal and state laws. Yadda yadda cease and desist. We win. You lose. The end.”
Nora tapped her chin. “I’ll have to inspect those pictures again. Just to see what we’re working with.” When Rainey choked back a cough, Nora shrugged her shoulders. “What? How else are we supposed to tell how old the hot, naked football player is?”
“That was our ultimate weapon,” Spencer mused, lost in thought. “The last PR tool to cast doubt on Troy’s character and pressure them to saying yes to the test.” She tossed the letter on her desk. “There’s no way we can touch those pictures with a ten foot pole, now.”
Nora snickered at the word “pole.”
Rainey lifted a quizzical brow. “Could we release them anonymously?”
Spencer shook her head. “They’d know it was us. Since I gave them to Liam.”
“Ah,” Rainey said, understanding. “Mr. Jerkwad.”
Spencer’s first response was to agree, but she stopped herself. Liam had calculated to cut off the opponent from her weapons, render her toothless and ineffective. God, he was good. There was every chance that Troy was over eighteen in those naked pictures. But no one in their right mind would submit themselves to legal action over it.
She kicked herself mentally.
Why had she given him that file? Because she’d assumed he’d agree to anything because he kissed her under a starry Texas sky? Because he’d held her stupid hand during a stupid tornado? Liam Connelly obviously meant business. On one level, she had to respect the balls of this move. On another, she was pissed she hadn’t prepared for it.
“I have to hand it to him,” Rainey said. “At least he’s not a pushover.”
Spencer’s head jerked. “What did you say?”
“I thought after you guys went out, he’d be crawling all over himself to do whatever you wanted. But he actually stood up to you.”
“True,” Nora agreed. “Guess he’s not your type after all.”
An acute discomfort crept over Spencer. Were they wrong? Had non-pushover jerkwads actually been her type all along?
…
Five o’clock came and went, and no call from Spencer. No journalists had called on her behalf, no answering legal pleas had been delivered. The silence was disconcerting.
He waited until nine to be safe, to make sure she wasn’t planning another attack today. His next play had two prongs and had to be perfect. A swing to the left, and then the handoff to the right. Time to pass the ball. He picked up the phone, and she answered on the first ring.
“Hello.” Spencer’s voice was low, sexy.
“Hey.”
“Kittens?” She asked.
“Troy loves animals.”
“Ashley Cadence?”
“He’s been to three concerts.”
“So they’re dating?” She was incredulous.
“You, of all people, should know that the press makes up stuff every day.” He paused to enjoy her low laugh over the phone. “So… Are we good?” For some reason, her answer had quickly become important. As crazy as it seemed, he didn’t want to lose her. If he hadn’t already.
“Liam…” Spencer took a deep breath. “This isn’t personal. This is business.”
This isn’t personal. This is business. Holy cow. She was separating the two. That strange emotion wound itself around in his chest again, something between hope and more. A loud boom sounded on her end of the phone.
“Where are you?”
“At home,” Spencer said. “In bed.” Liam rubbed his hand over his face. He should not be this bothered by two little words.
But he was. More than he should be.
“I heard something.” That sounded lame.
“I’m watching a movie. Independence Day. I needed a movie with guns in it.”
That explained the explosions, Liam thought. “Have you seen the part where the President makes the big speech and rallies everyone to fight the aliens?”
“I love that part. It just came on.”
Liam chuckled at the memory of Spencer’s rousing speeches earlier. It was a shame she didn’t want to go into politics. She could bring the Capital down with just that “hypocritical liar” line.
“Nice move on the cease and desist letter,” she admitted.
Damn. Liam was proud of her. Congratulations didn’t come easy for competitors like them.
“Thanks. You know, I’ve been a little worried about your response.”
“You’ve kind of tied my hands.”
The image of a tied up Spencer, naked and writhing, made Liam glad they were on the phone. He hardened just at what his imagination conjured up. Reality would do him in.
“Yeah?” His word sounded strangled, even to himself.
“I still have one play left.”
“Let’s go ahead and get it out of the way, then,” Liam said. “Hit me.”
“An ultimatum. Paternity test by NFL Draft. Or we go public.”
It was a dirty move. And the best one she had now. Just the suggestion that Troy wasn’t the All-American innocent golden boy would tarnish his reputation. If the test was positive? It could bring down Troy’s career in one crazy, huge public relations disaster.
And at the end of the day, Liam didn’t want to gamble his career on just the dubious, at-best chance that Troy was a one-in-a-million-sex-drive-free athlete. That wasn’t even co
unting any other tricks she had up her sleeve, because there was no way she only had one more play.
In a flash, Liam realized she’d been holding out. She could have pulled out this ultimatum at the beginning, played her strongest and highest card. But the fact was she hadn’t showed that she had wanted to play fair and give Troy a shot at doing the right thing.
He had to stall, so he could to talk to Troy, maybe get some straight answers.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“Okay.” Her answer was deceptively simple, but, for tonight, he’d take it.
The distinctive Will Smith cackle rose in the background. “Headed up to the space ship?”
“Yeah and oh, wait—this is a good part, too.” The volume rose, and Liam heard the line that always made him laugh. “Hello, boys, I’m ba-ack.”
“That is a dumb movie,” Liam said, propping his feet on his desk, thinking about her in bed.
“It’s like a mini-candy bar. Bad, yet irresistible,” Spencer said as the volume of the movie decreased to a normal tone.
Liam couldn’t help himself. “Like me.” He leaned back and fiddled with a pen, tossing it and catching it between his fingers.
“Pretty much.” Her dry, southern humor always caught him off guard.
“If I can get Troy to agree…” Liam found himself dry mouthed.
“What?” Spencer’s voice was soft.
“Can we have a second date do-over?”
“I’m not sure we had an official first date.”
“Well, I took you out to dinner, and you kissed me. That was definitely a date.” Spencer made an mmm-sound. “Then the second date, you came over for dinner and kissed me.”
“So I’m the one doing all the kissing?”
“Pretty much. It would be unprofessional for me to make a move.”
Spencer made that mm-hmm sound again. Liam continued. “Of course, the second date didn’t go the way I’d planned.”
“Oh? What was the plan?” Spencer’s voice had gone husky. Bright alarms and DANGER signs flashed in Liam’s head.
Run. Run as fast as you can.
But he didn’t listen.
“First, you would have slowly…stripped off…the packing tape and unpacked some boxes.” He said it lustily, smiling when he got the laugh he’d been hoping for. It was good to laugh with her again.
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