The woman placed her hand on the back of Clay’s shoulder as he said, “Hi Sydney.”
Noting none of his usual warmth, her heart constricted. “Hi.” She forced herself to keep it brief, else he detect the quiver in her voice. “How’s Q?” That was the reason she was here. To check on Q and then leave.
“He’s good. Asleep by the time I arrived.”
She nodded, trying to resist the impulse to stare at the woman standing next to him. But even from the periphery of her vision she couldn’t miss her. Particularly her eyes. Bluer than blue but three shades lighter than Clay’s, they were striking. Extraordinary.
Removing the hand from Clay’s shoulder, she extended it toward Sydney. “I’m Trish. Q’s mom,” she thrust, as in ownership.
So Sydney was right. It was Q’s mother. Meeting her halfway with an automatic handshake, she replied in turn, “Sydney.” She squeezed the slender hand and released quickly. Last thing she needed was this woman to feel the tremble in her grip.
“I’m sorry,” Clay said, as though poor manners had betrayed him. “This is Q’s mother. She’s here to see him swim in the events.” As he said the words, Sydney noted a scratch of irritation in his voice. Was he bothered the two women were together? Was it awkward for him that they met?
“Okay, well...” Sydney took a step back and cleared her throat. She struggled to temper the flush of blood pulsing between her ears. “I just wanted to see how he was doing.” Darting a glance toward his female friend, she turned to go, disturbed by the sense of possession this woman’s eyes held.
“Don’t go, Sydney.” Clay reached out and touched her hand.
The move sent fireworks through her system. She shifted away from him and said, “I’m afraid I have to. I need to see about some drinks.” See about some drinks? Not only are you the third wheel here, now you look like a fool!
“Sydney, wait—” Clay grabbed hold of her upper arm.
Surprised, she glanced to his hand and then to him. What was he doing?
“I’ll get out of your way,” the woman said. “Just let Q know I’m here.”
“Will do,” he said, but remained focused on Sydney.
Sydney trailed the woman’s backside into the bleachers. My God, the woman was petite—wearing four-inch wedge heels, her butt was high and tight and half the size of her own atop legs that bore not a speck of fat—unlike her own.
She turned to face Clay and her confidence withered. This woman once belonged to him. The two shared a life, a bed—
They shared a son. To this day, they shared a son. Fantasies of a life with Clay popped and sputtered. Her eyes stung as she fought back a sudden surge of tears.
“She wasn’t expected,” Clay said and cast a spiteful gaze toward his ex-wife. He let go of Sydney. “I don’t even know why she’s here.”
“Maybe she wants to cheer her son on to victory,” she mumbled, the mark left on her arm pulsating at his release.
“More like she wants to share some of the spotlight,” he said flatly.
“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” She hugged arms to her body. Though she wished it were true. She wished the woman was a she-devil in the flesh. It would make her feel better about herself at the moment.
“You don’t know Trish. Everything is about her and I mean everything.”
Was that the reason for Q’s sudden illness? Did his mother show up last night and cause trouble? “Does Q know she’s here?”
“No. And I’d rather not tell him.” He pitched another glance in her direction and Sydney thought he might spit. Clay swallowed and said, “But I’m sure she’ll make that impossible.”
Sydney wondered if she had come with a husband, or if she had designs on reuniting with Clay. Fighting the urge to look at the woman, she stared into Clay’s eyes. The two certainly looked cozy when she first walked in. But with her self-esteem flailing in the wind, she wasn’t about to ask. She already felt like a school girl in love with the football player, the one who only dated beautiful cheerleaders and not gargantuan tomboys.
“I’m glad you’re here. Q will be happy to know you stopped by to check on him.”
“Yes, well...” If it didn’t confuse him. Dropping her arms, it dawned upon her. What did he think about his dad spending time with a woman? Did he see Clay with many girlfriends, or were women a rarity in his life? Sydney shook the supposition away. He had to see him with women. Clay moved in too easily for dating to be something of a rarity for him. But of course she should have thought about asking these questions before letting him pull her in and lull her into submission. Last night she had felt rapture. Now she only felt trapped. “Listen, I really do need to get to work.” She slid a hand over her head and tamped back the flutter in her chest. “I’m glad Q’s okay. Is he competing today?”
“No. Today he has off. Tomorrow’s his big race.”
“Well, give him my best.”
“What—you’re not going to be here?”
Sydney found the look of shock on Clay’s face almost heartening. “I, uh...” She had planned on it, but now... She wasn’t so sure. Being part of a threesome was not her idea of a good time.
But before she could utter an excuse, Clay said, “Sydney, you have to come watch him win the gold. He’ll be crushed if you don’t.”
Crushed was laying it on a bit thick, but Clay was right. Q would most likely be expecting her. He knew she was interested in his events. He knew she wanted him to win. How could she finagle her way out of being caught between Clay and his ex without disappointing Q? She looked into Clay’s expectant gaze. She couldn’t. That was the problem. She sighed. “I’ll try.”
Clay took her into his arms and she went rigid. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She glanced about them. “I have to work to do, remember?”
Alarm scored his features. “Sydney, what’s going on?”
“I told you, nothing is going on.” She broke free from his grasp and wondered who might be taking note of this interaction. All she needed now was for the Special Olympics staff to report back to Javier about her mild altercation with one of the swim parents. “I just can’t give you a firm commitment, that’s all.”
“It’s not Trish, is it?”
“Of course not,” she snapped.
“Whoa...” Realization transformed his expression. “That sounded convincing.”
“This isn’t the place for this—” This what? Discussion? Lover’s quarrel? What the hell was she doing? Sydney took several steps away and said, “We can talk about this later.”
“Sydney, c’mon. What about last night?”
“What about it?” You copped a feel—great. Her body reacted with a mix of pleasurable recollection and horrific mortification. Didn’t mean anything and if they keep it to last night, it never has to.
“Didn’t you have fun?”
“It was great. I had a nice time.” She struggled to remain detached, above the fray of the emotion currently tangling inside her. “But you and I both know this isn’t going anywhere. You don’t have—”
“I don’t have what?” He stepped toward her. “I can make it happen.” Blue eyes bored into her. “Whatever you need, I can make it happen.”
This was absurd! Sydney pressed thumb and forefinger to her temples. They were talking in circles, generalities. They were playing games. Neither one of them had the ability to see this through. She wasn’t moving. Nor was he. He had a life and a network of support in South Carolina. He had family, a career. He didn’t need her. Tears threatened to betray her façade, but Sydney forced them back. She wasn’t doing this. Not here, maybe not ever. “Can I get back to work, please?”
“That’s it?”
She nodded. Another wave of tears threatened as she tried to ignore the hurt in his eyes. Yes, that’s it. So close, yet so far.
Clay exhaled heavy and tight. “I’m not giving up that easily.”
She turned, but stopped. “Why not? What’s the point?”
“You’re the point. Only you don’t see it yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sydney rounded the turn for the hall leading to Javier’s office and glowered at the sight of Morgan. Dressed in a pale pink vest and floral mini, her stiletto heels wholly unprofessional, much like the hair teased high and combed out past her shoulders, she trotted in her direction. Strolling to a stop before her, she said, “Well, if it isn’t the speech goddess herself.”
“Not now,” Sydney grumbled, tightening the grip on her leather binder. She was in no mood for this woman’s games.
“Tomorrow’s your grand finale, isn’t it?”
Sydney took in the immediate vicinity. Javier was nowhere to be seen. Associates were out of earshot. Morgan had no audience. Why bother?
“My computer software show begins next week and I’m so excited,” she chirped, a malicious luster shimmering in her eyes.
News flash sister: it’s not your software show. It’s the Pan-American Expo for software giants across North and South America—the one she wanted but Javier gave to Morgan instead.
“Javier and I are having dinner with the president of Azevedo Tech. You know, the leading software company out of Brazil? I think he wants us to play a key role in his organization, maybe represent his exhibits worldwide. Isn’t that incredible?”
“Amazing,” Sydney replied, irritated that her path had been intentionally blocked. Though if she had to shove Morgan out of the way, nothing would give her more pleasure.
“You know he’s dating that actress, Mona Lynn,” she transferred her weight from heel to heel, quickly slanting to the side as Sydney made a move to pass. “I’m sure she’ll be dining with us as well,” she added, angling her head in an attempt to capture Sydney’s attention.
“And I’m sure you two will have plenty to talk about,” she said, prepared to push her aside.
Morgan smiled tritely. “Would you like me to see if I can get you her autograph?”
“Not hardly.” Sydney paused, as the thought occurred to her. “But your friend Manny might enjoy one. Maybe you can give it to him as a gift over your next dinner together.” Morgan’s smirk disappeared. “After all, he so enjoys the company of young women. Seems to me he might enjoy his name scrawled across the photograph of one.”
Morgan froze. Only for a second, but Sydney savored the victory just the same.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Suddenly uninterested in detouring around Morgan, Sydney folded the notebook within her arms and held it against her chest. “You tell me,” she clipped.
“Nothing to tell,” she lied, and rolled glossy lips together.
“Oh c’mon, Morgan. Don’t sell yourself so short. I bet you two have some pretty juicy stories to tell.”
Ice splintered her gaze. “If you have something to say Flores, say it.”
Sydney chuckled. It was a nice change to see Morgan squirm. After her little stunt with opening ceremonies, she deserved it. Taking her time, Sydney wanted her to suffer over what may come next. “Let’s just say Javier wouldn’t appreciate knowing about your relationship with the Mayor. Manny, isn’t that what you call him?”
“Keep your voice down,” she hissed. Morgan flogged her with a glare, sideswiping the immediate vicinity with a hot, angry gaze.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this a problem for you?”
Fury thrashed through her eyes, chilling them to the core. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like nothing more than to cause me trouble.”
“That’s comical, Morgan. Coming from you, anyway.” She peered down at her. Even in heels she was a shrimp. “But actually, it’s Javier I don’t want to cause trouble for—something you apparently don’t seem to mind.”
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it,” she spat. “You still want him, don’t you? You’ve been jealous of me since day one, Flores, because you know I’m ten times better than you’ll ever be and now you’re mad because he’s with me, giving me the choice assignments.”
“You’re twisted, you know that?”
“You’re jealous.”
“Of you?” Sydney barked an empty laugh. “Hardly. But I do care about Javier.”
“I knew it.”
Oh, please—if Morgan thought she was mooning over Javier then she was a bigger fool than Sydney first thought. Suddenly, she’d had enough. Tucking the notebook under an arm, she dodged around her and headed for Javier’s office.
“Where are you going?” Morgan demanded from behind her.
“To see Javier,” she replied over her shoulder.
“What?” Morgan’s heels clambered up behind her, but stopped short.
Sydney smiled at the image, relishing the desperation in her voice. Did she think she could escort her to his office and prevent the news from spilling? She laughed under her breath and rounded the corner. Let her wonder. Sydney detested the fact that Morgan was cheating on Javier, not to mention using the Mayor to make her look bad, but delivering said message was not something she wanted to do. Despite their personal issues, telling Javier that Morgan was a cheat was not on her list of must-dos. She was more interested in her career—and the direction of said career—than airing Morgan’s trashy laundry. If she could manage to cease Morgan’s interference without hurting Javier in the process, then that’s what she’d do. But if she couldn’t, then it wasn’t her problem, anyway. Chalk it up to a bad choice of bed partners—on his part.
Cutting off into Javier’s front office, Sydney wondered what kind of mood he’d be in today. No secretary to play block for him today, she poked her head into his doorway. “Javier? You ready for me?”
Sitting behind his desk, he smiled at the sight of her. “Yes, Sydney.” Dark eyes softened in affection as he set his pen down. “C’mon in.”
She took her usual seat and opened the binder to her notepad.
Javier leaned back, sliding arms along the rests of his chair. Donning no suit at the moment, the creamy coral of his shirt enhanced the brown of his skin. “How are the events coming along?”
“Great. Everybody’s set and looking forward to finals tomorrow.”
“It’s very exciting, no? To watch these athletes compete? Their enthusiasm is contagious.”
“It is.” But talking about the games would only make her think of Clay and Q—and Trish—something she was loathe to do. She had requested this meeting for different reasons.
Javier held Sydney in the scope of his gaze. “But you’re not here to talk about your current assignment.” He paused and slid into a knowing grin. “This is about your next one.”
“Yes Javier, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” The fact that there may not be a next one, she thought and tamped down a rush of nerves.
“I’d like to discuss the possibility of working with LBD International.” She’d done her research. The shipbuilding magnate had an event scheduled in Miami late next year and if she could get involved from the ground up, she could make connections with the in-house staff and hopefully secure a job for herself. Based in London, it would be a dream opportunity. She could experience a whole new culture by living abroad and better yet, travel internationally. LBD was a global company with most of their exhibits held in coastal regions and major ports. Best of all, their native tongue was English. No language training required. Living in London would be a nice change of venue for her, and make it easy for her to explore Europe. She’d never been, but had always wanted to go. The lack of beach volleyball was the only downside. But life was about compromise, wasn’t it? She cleared her throat and said, “It’s my understanding they have a meeting set for December of next year.”
Javier crossed one leg over the other, the leather wingback creaking beneath the weight of him. “And you’d like to take part in handling the event?”
She nodded. Angst jumped in her chest. “I would.”
“Well, I haven’t actually assigned anyone to that event as yet, but James has
already expressed his interest.”
James was a senior associate and usually received the assignments he put in for, but Sydney hoped with the advance notice, she could change Javier’s mind. She had the experience. Her track record was just as good as James’. There was no reason she couldn’t be given this event. “I’d like to be considered along with him, if possible.”
“I see...” He tented his fingers. “Morgan has also indicated she’d like to work the convention.”
Resentment percolated. What convention doesn’t she want? Grubby, two-timing wench. But then again, she doesn’t have to compete for events with the rest of them. Sydney’s gaze dodged to the notebook perched on her knee.
“If you recall, she has connections with LBD.”
Of course she does. Sydney stared at him, disbelief curdling her hope into a pit in her stomach. Because you let her work the boat expo with James! Prancing around in her so-called “boat” clothes during the exhibit didn’t take long to get her noticed. Didn’t take a genius to know a female showing some skin would be cause for attention. But dinner with the vice-chairman of the company still counted as a connection, no matter how non-business oriented it was and Morgan soaked the meal for every drop of recognition she could.
Fighting a well of frustration, Sydney tried, “Well, I’d still like to be considered. If there’s any possibility...”
Though it was likely she was wasting her time. Unless Javier dumped Morgan. But he wouldn’t do that until she gave him good reason. On second thought, maybe dropping the bomb about Morgan’s extracurricular activities would be helpful right about now. Setting her hands on the armrests of her chair, she prepared to rise. But spitting out that morsel of info unplanned would only harm her cause. Disappointment careened through her. Hers.
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