He looked at me, and I knew I sounded desperate. I was desperate. This whole thing needed to work, otherwise I might as well pack up my diplomas and leave with my tail firmly between my legs and with the shame of letting my father down hanging around my neck. I already lacked the confidence of the majority of the coaches, and if my father got wind that I wasn’t having any success with the rest of the guys, I knew that would be the end of this little experiment. After all, my father wasn’t known for wasting money. I would be a failure, the one word I could not stomach. I was more than that.
“Why?”
“I… er, because.” How could I find the words to explain it all to him, to open myself up to that kind of scrutiny? This wasn’t my therapy session, for God’s sake.
“You really need for me to do this, don’t you?”
I cringed at the way he said it. I should just let him go, wallow in my self-pity, and move on. “I do,” I all but whispered, feeling a bit useless. “I really need this to work.”
A strange look crossed his face as he walked back toward the desk, his intense eyes staring into mine. “OK, fine. But on one condition.”
“What is it?” I asked, breathless with anticipation. Short of sleeping with him, I would do anything to keep him here.
He grinned then. “A date.”
“What?” I responded, surprised. A date? No I couldn’t go on a date with him! I had a strict no-player policy built into my contract. Besides, my father would kill me if he found out. “No I couldn’t possibly. It’s not allowed.”
“Oh well, then I can’t come visit you regularly,” he replied with a sad, exaggerated shrug. He was loving this. “Sorry, Doc, those are my terms.”
“One date?” I asked hesitantly. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go out with him. He was after all Jacob Maddox, handsome, cocky, and could kiss like the world was ending. I could only imagine what type of date we would have, but I had to stick to my guns, right? If I gave in just one time, I would be treading into some dangerous waters in more ways than one.
“One,” he replied, holding up one lone finger. “But sometimes you can’t just stop with one.”
I sighed loudly and sat back in my chair, glancing at the calendar before me. Could I make this work? I had to didn’t I?
“Fine, one date. I have an opening this Friday.” That was two days from now, giving me plenty of time to prepare for him and whatever antics he might try during the date.
“I’m free after eight,” he said, a grin appearing instantly on his face. I nodded and wrote down my address on a pink sticky note and handed it to him.
“Here, pick me up here.”
“See you then,” he said.
Before he could walk out the door, I quickly added, “There will be no kissing! Or… or touching!”
“Oh, Doc, I can’t promise anything of the sort.” He winked at me then started to whistle as he turned away.
I scrubbed my face with my hands and fought the urge to scream. What had I just done? I felt like I’d made a deal with the devil. Not only had I agreed to go out on a date with him, but he’d managed to wangle his way out of the therapy session we were having! I groaned. He’d played me. And I could lose my job over this—breaking my contract so openly—but if I didn’t get him on my side, I was done for anyway. Just one massive leap of faith, and perhaps the outcome would be worth it.
7
Jacob
I whistled as I walked out of Lucia’s office, feeling smug. I had just talked the woman deemed unfuckable into a date, even if I did have to resort to messing with her head a little.
Though—and I wouldn’t tell her—the desperation in her eyes had tugged on something deep inside me, reminding me of my own past. Lucia had some deep need to make her job work. And besides, I didn’t know if I could’ve still walked out had she turned down my offer.
She had determination, and I could relate to that feeling. But she had also revealed a weakness to me, which I supposed had given me a leg up on the competition, and really, I had gotten what I wanted in the end. I was well on my way to winning two grand and had a date with a hot chick. I had fucking enjoyed her kiss the night before, and I wanted more, a lot more. She was coy, though, I had to give her that. No wonder she had looked at me so oddly last night when I’d asked her about Lucia. She was Lucia. I still was struggling to grasp that concept. Yet looking down at the paper with her address and cell number on it, it didn’t matter anymore, and I couldn’t help but grin.
I walked to the locker room, where some of the guys had already gathered for the day’s late-morning practice session. It was the last thing I wanted to do with my head still buzzing, but I had no choice. A downside of the job, having to go out into the heat with a fucking hangover. At least in Minnesota I had a fifty-fifty chance of having some cool weather to practice in.
“Jacob, my man! How did you like the party last night? Wasn’t it everything I said it would be?”
I looked over to see Terrence coming toward me, the ever-present toothy grin on his face. “It was, it was! And actually it was exactly what I needed.”
“You sure are in a good mood. Hell, I have a hangover to end all hangovers. But I can’t wait to find out, did you find her?” Terrence asked as he threw his bag into his locker, the sound making us both wince. “When you left last night you were so determined.”
“Oh, I found her, all right,” I said with an eager grin, glad that I could at least give him that information. “And I got digits and a date.”
Terrence’s smile slid sideways, his eyes rounding slightly. “You’re fucking with me, right? I know you are. There is no possible way you could have gotten that far in one night.”
I shook my head and held up the piece of paper, not showing him the info. I didn’t need him encroaching on what I considered my territory. I was going to tame Lucia and enjoy every minute of it.
“Shit, man,” Terrence said, eyeing the note, apparently trusting me as a man of my word. “How did you do that?”
“Charm, my man, charm,” I laughed, placing it back into my pocket for safekeeping. “Why didn’t you tell me she was the performance therapist? I would have prepared myself before she started picking my brain apart.”
“Oh, you know,” Terrence drawled as he pulled on his pads, “that would’ve been too easy. Besides, if we had told you, would you still have gone after her?”
I thought about that for a moment, thinking of how the lull of her missing identity made it all the more intriguing. Just the missing link had been enough to push me. “Nah, probably not.”
“Well,” Terrence said as I pulled on my own pads and laced my cleats. “You won, dude. No need to go through with the date now. It’s all over.” When I didn’t respond, he leaned up against the locker with his forearm. “Wait. You aren’t seriously considering going through it, right?”
“Why the hell not? I still need to get her into my bed,” I shrugged, slapping him on the back for good measure. I had worked this hard to find out who she was, and that kiss, the one that Terrence didn’t know about, was still on my mind. If she had blown me away with just a kiss, I could only imagine how it would be to get under the sheets with her. Under that prim and professional look of hers, I was betting on her being a wild ride. She just needed the right guy to bring it out of her, and I wanted to be that man. She was a conquest now, like a game I was told I couldn’t win. There was no way in hell I was going to back down at this stage.
“Shit man,” Terrence said as we started to walk toward the exit. “If you do this, you might not come back out. She will have you spouting that therapy crap before the end of the season, and then you can kiss a starting position goodbye. Ain’t nobody gonna survive when her fa—”
“Stop worrying. Have more faith in me than that, Terrence,” I interrupted, shielding my eyes as we stepped out into the sunshine. By the end of the season, I planned to have her in my bed and out of my system, and I’d be in that starting position. It was a good play.
8
Lucia
I looked at the dress with a critical eye, turning it a few ways before throwing it onto the growing pile on my bed. For the last hour I’d attempted to find something to wear for the date, going through most of my closet before coming to the conclusion that one, I had nothing remotely sexy in it, and two, I needed to shop more. My clothes were either professional or comfortable. There was no in-between. I finally decided that it showed how unbelievably pathetic my life was.
With a grimace, I picked up my first choice, a strappy sundress that was many years out of fashion; it fell just above my knees and showed off the arms I had been working so hard on in the gym. The color was perfect for the hot weather, even if I thought it was a bit too revealing. I slid it on and left my hair down, taking a look in the mirror once more. I hated it—I looked fake, like I was trying too hard or as if I were attempting to slip on another personality—it just wasn’t me… but it would have to do.
There was a reason I had such a pitiful wardrobe, and it all had to do with the fact that I felt comfortable dressing professionally. I was taken seriously most of the time in a good suit; it was a badge of security in a world that was dominated by men, especially in the football industry. In my suits and pencil skirts, I felt like I belonged amongst them. But in something like this, they would see me as an object meant to be seen and not heard. I couldn’t stand that. I had worked and studied too hard to be seen as a floozy with a great rack.
Turning away from the mirror, I put my hand on my stomach, feeling the worry starting to knot up again. The thought of calling to cancel crossed my mind for the billionth time that day. I had a great deal on the line, and if anyone found out that I was out with a player socially, I would lose all credibility amongst the staff. The entire organization, for that matter. But the thought, the small thought, that if I did this that it would turn my career around still loomed in the back of my mind. Those damn ‘what ifs’. They always made people do stupid things.
I walked into the open plan kitchen, hunting for a cracker to nibble on so I could calm my jumbled nerves. The guest house was fifteen hundred square feet, more like a regular-sized house. It had three bedrooms with adjoining baths, much too big for one person. But the rent was free, and when one only needed a place to crash at the end of the day, it worked out just fine. Plus it kept me close to my family, close to the people who knew me best. It was safe and uncomplicated.
I opened a cabinet and frowned, seeing nothing peering back at me. Damn. When was the last time I had bought groceries anyway? The clock over the stove told me I still had about an hour before Jacob was due to pick me up, which admittedly wasn’t the best plan in the world. But I planned to be waiting right outside the driveway to bar any reason for him to come up the drive and knock on the door. The last thing I needed was him to cause a stir with my father. He for one could not know that I was going out with a player tonight.
All of my life I had been around football; my father’s love of the sport made sure of that. When he had made enough money from his very successful brokerage firm, my father had jumped at the chance at buying a local team, haggling out a price to keep them right here in Jupiter. I could still remember the day that he looked at me and told me the news, how we were going to create and leave a legacy. “Everyone will know our name, Lucia,” he had said as we stood in the owner’s suite overlooking the field. “I will stock this place with such fine talent that no one will ever question my existence.” And he had. My father had brought in more players with unquestionable ability in the last ten years than any other football team in the nation. And most of them came from our home state—home-grown—which made it all the sweeter, not to mention the stadium was almost always packed.
My stomach rumbled again and I slipped on a pair of sandals, grabbing my purse just in case I did not make it back to the guest house in time. The main kitchen was always stocked well, so I knew I could find something to eat in there and hopefully not run into my father. Normally in the early evenings he was poring over the books or going over films of potential prospects in some conference room with the rest of his operations staff. While some team owners had no buy-in other than making money, my father was always heavily involved in the minutia of the team.
I closed the door behind me and followed the path by the pool to the main house, and entered through the back door that led to the kitchen. The house was quiet, the housekeeper gone for the day, and as I walked into the large kitchen that looked like it had been pulled out of one of those food magazines, I breathed a sigh of relief that my father was not there.
Merry, my stepmother, sat at the granite island, a cup of coffee beside her as she looked over a stack of thick papers and folders before her. Merry was my dad’s second wife. He married her a few years after my mother died of cancer. I was three when Mom died, and I vaguely remembered her leaning over me, the smell of her crisp citrusy perfume enveloping me as she picked me up with a smile. My dad never talked about her, and I suspected he was devastated when she died. But he was lucky to find love again. He and Merry got married when I was ten, and I was very fortunate that she loved me just like I was her very own child. No evil stepmother for me, I thought with a smile as I gave her a quick hug. I had a close bond with her, and she had always been my cheerleader throughout all of my education.
“Hey, sweetie,” she said as our embrace ended. “You look pretty tonight. Got a hot date?”
“I do, actually,” I laughed as I leaned against the island. “Do you have any crackers?”
“I think we do,” Merry replied, pursing her lips. “If not, there’s some leftover spaghetti in the fridge. I cooked it last night.”
“That’s too heavy,” I said, walking over to the cabinet and starting my hunt. “I don’t even know if I can keep these down.” Finding what I was looking for, I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and joined her at the island, the smell of coffee wafting through the air. “So, what’s up?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I want to hear all about this mystery date.”
“Maybe later,” I replied as I took a sip of the water.
“Fine, be all secretive. Anyway, I’m thinking about remodeling the den,” Merry frowned, revealing that the stack of papers were sketches. “I’m getting that itch, you know?”
I smiled, taking a bite of a cracker, knowing full well that Merry couldn’t stop remodeling the house. She had been an interior designer before marrying my father, which by happenstance was the way they had met all those years ago. I remembered the day we’d viewed this house, and Merry had been brought in to listen and observe in case there was something that my dad didn’t like about it. It had definitely been a mutual attraction from the start, and they were married a year later. Since then, Merry had made it her personal mission to make the house exactly like they wanted it, which often resulted in grumblings from my dad about the cost and the mess. But he let her do it, regardless. “How many times does this make?” I teased, receiving a swat on the shoulder in return.
“Come on,” she said as I took another cracker out of the box. “Tell me more about this date, I’m dying to know. It’ll take my mind off all of these swatches. I’m so glad to see you are getting out of that guest house, Lucia. You work too hard, just like your dad. You need to go live a little. So, tell me, is it anyone we know?”
I shook my head, inwardly cringing at what she might think if she knew who the date was with. “No, he’s just a friend from college.” I hated lying to her. Merry was not only my stepmom, but also a very close friend for me, a confidant who knew just about everything about me and what went on in my life. And though I knew I could trust her, I held back, not wanting to see the disappointment in her eyes as she learned I was going out with a player. The guys on the team that weren’t married had reputations for, well, being playboys. I was certain that Jacob was probably the same, but something in me craved that type of attention. It was wholly out of my comfort zone, and for once
in my life, I wanted to be able to throw the caution to the wind so to speak.
“Well, I am sure he’s fabulous,” Merry continued, taking a sip of her coffee. “Where are you going? Is this just a dinner date?”
“What date?”
I closed my eyes briefly as I heard my father’s voice echo behind me. I had hoped to escape this house without him knowing I was going out, but apparently he was back earlier than I had anticipated.
“Honey! You’re home early! Just in time to help me choose a new color scheme for the den!” Merry exclaimed as my dad came over to kiss her affectionately. “And how was the meeting?”
“Horrible as usual, but we’re making progress on the campaign. Tomorrow we’re good to go,” he responded, his gray eyes landing on me. “What’s this I hear about a date, Lucia?”
“It’s just dinner,” I said casually, though inside my stomach was back in those tight and twisting knots again. “Nothing important.”
My dad frowned, his bushy eyebrows knitted close together. “Do I know this fellow?”
I resisted the urge to bite my lip and shook my head, sticking to my original plan to keep this one a secret. I had to. If my dad found out, I would be out of the organization faster than I could pack those diplomas back up. He never liked the idea of me being around the players when I was growing up, but I had always been treated with respect. No one was brave enough to ask me out. It was like they knew I was off limits. But here I was, going out on a limb, going behind my dad’s back and having a date with a player. This was insane. Had I lost my ever-loving mind?
The Playbook Page 5