She had been paying attention. I reached out and pulled her to me. “All that, huh?
“Ya know, so far, so good. For all I know, you could have a dungeon with whips and chains in the basement,” she teased.
I leaned down and brushed my lips against hers. “You would love that, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t start. We have things to do today that require us to be clothed.” She pushed away from me and backed up a step or two.
“I could work around that.” I crooked a finger.
“I’ll just bet you could.” She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “You don’t really have some sort of bondage room, do you?”
“No. But I can scare up a thing or two to get your freak flag flying,” I promised and took a step toward her.
“Carter!” she shrieked and whirled away running.
“Bedrooms are upstairs,” I called out, giving her a head start before I took off after her.
Don’t get me wrong: In the two weeks we’d been living together it wasn’t all slap, tickle, and giggles. Katrina and I were two strong personalities, so we bickered and we battled. We were two people who were used to getting our own way. Neither of us liked to concede a point, but at the end of the day we either agreed to disagree or deferred and moved on.
Katrina was a high maintenance woman and I was a hands-on kind of guy. If the relationship was to move forward, I had to steer us there. That sort of relationship upkeep required dedicated time and attention. Not to mention patience. And sometimes my patience ran short. I knew Katrina was worth it in the end. Getting there was going to take the best I had to give.
I stood at my office window near the Galleria in Dallas and watched the noonday traffic on the Tollway. I was considering calling Katrina to see if she had time for lunch when the intercom buzzed on my desk phone.
“Mr. Parks, your brother is on line two and your grandfather is on his way up.”
“Thanks, Shawn. Are you ever going to call me Carter?” I teased.
“Maybe, one day,” he declared before putting the call through.
“What’s up, Chris?” I switched the call to speakerphone and leaned back in my office chair.
“I am calling to say thank you!” he chirped enthusiastically.
I frowned down at the phone and waved my grandfather in as he appeared outside my door. Collin Parks marched into my office like the former military man he was. Back straight, salt-and-pepper hair trimmed low, looking fit in a pair of khakis and a polo shirt with a lightweight jacket over the top. I pointed at the phone and mouthed, “Chris.” Gramps nodded and sat down in one of the two chairs I had placed in front of the desk. “Thank me for what?”
“Sending your girlfriend and some of her friends out to practice today. They definitely brighten up the sideline.” Chris had decided to defer enrollment to business school and pursue football instead. He signed with Dallas and was attending minicamp in the facility across town. He was renting an apartment in Las Colinas and I enjoyed seeing him regularly.
“Katrina is out there?” I realized I had no idea what her schedule was today.
“Oh, yeah. We are definitely TeamKat around here.”
“Doing what?”
“She and some of the models she knows brought lunch out for the team and staff. They are also wearing some league gear that’s been designed for women.”
I knew BellaRich had turned in a bid to create clothing for the NFL for Women line but I didn’t realize it came through. “Oh, yeah? What’s for lunch?”
“Mexican. Turn on NFL Network; your girl is doing you proud.”
“I hope you are spending as much time working as you are looking at models,” Gramps cautioned his youngest grandson.
“Of course, Gramps. You know how I do,” Chris said.
“Yeah boy, I do. That’s why I’m reminding you of what you’re there for.”
“Yes, sir. Um . . . later Carter.” Chris hung up.
I picked up the remote and aimed it at the TV hanging on the far side of the room. When it powered on, I punched in the channel number for the NFL Network. They were showing a commercial.
“What brings you down, Gramps?”
He crossed his arms. “We gotta do the speech over at the First Chance Foundation.”
Gramps ran two of my charitable foundations. One worked with businesses across Louisiana and Texas to provide jobs and scholarships to young teens who may not have the opportunity otherwise. We also offered some tutoring and counseling to the kids. I’d named it the Carter First Chance Foundation. The other worked to reintegrate returning vets into the workplace. We also offered advanced training and counseling for the vets as well. That one we named the Carter Second Chance Foundation. “What’s up?”
“We’ve got a couple of knuckleheads in there talking mess. Stuff like they don’t need to worry about their grades because they’re going pro.” In order to participate in the First Chance programs, we held all the kids to a grade-point average. If they dropped below the average two grade periods in a row, we had them leave the program. Education was stressed as a cornerstone for advancement.
Every year we had a few kids come through with so much real athletic talent they thought that was going to be enough to see them through. They didn’t think about what might happen if they didn’t make it or got hurt. Those were the ones I worried about the most. “Okay, I’ll come out after-hours in a week and bring some of the fellas with me. We’ll serve a dinner and get the real story told.” I had a few former players who came out with me and we did our own version of Scared Straight.
“Bring your shiny new girlfriend with you, she’ll make an impression,” Gramps joked and pointed at the screen. “Ooo-wee boy, she is looking fancy.”
Sure enough, there was my shiny new girlfriend looking fancy in a sparkly tank top and tight hot pants with sky-high heels, smiling widely into the camera. I turned up the volume.
“Miss Montgomery, you’ve been in the news a lot lately. In light of some of your recent troubles, do you think it’s a good idea for the NFL to partner with your company to design sexy clothing?”
Katrina smiled even wider. “First of all, I don’t have recent troubles. I have an ex-boyfriend who plays dirty, which reflects poorly on him, not me. Secondly, what is wrong with sexy clothing as long as it’s well made and flattering?”
“You have to know that your ex is going to say that you slept with someone to get this contract. Are you sleeping with someone affiliated with the NFL?”
Gramps and I exchanged a look. A mischievous grin crossed Katrina’s face and her eyes twinkled. She tossed her hair over her shoulder in a gesture I was familiar with. “Uh-oh, this means trouble,” I muttered.
She leaned in closer to the interviewer. “Actually, Mark, I am.”
Mark’s mouth fell open and the other reporters standing around scrambled to get closer as they sensed a story brewing. “Um, I beg your pardon? You are admitting to sleeping with an NFL official?”
She shook her head. “That is not what I said.”
“What are you saying?”
“Mark, I don’t know why it’s any of your business, but I am exclusively enjoying the favors of Carter Parks, retired NFL player and current real estate mogul. He has nothing to do with sexy clothes unless you count the fact that he loves taking them off me. And I don’t mind letting him. Hey, babe.” She blew a kiss from her glossed-up lips into the camera.
Gramps snickered. “Boy, your business is in the streets.”
“Yeah. It is.” I couldn’t stop my grin from spreading if I tried. I knew I should feel some sort of way about it, but I was kind of proud she claimed me.
“You gonna keep this one, son, or throw her back like the others?”
“C’mon now, I don’t do that.”
“Sure you do,” he scolded me.
“Does that look like a woman who gets thrown anywhere she doesn’t want to go?”
“Son, I raised you since you were a puppy. You th
ink I don’t know when you’re ducking a direct answer?”
“I don’t know, Gramps. I’d like it to work out for us, go the distance. I don’t know if she’s ready for that. Either at all or with me. I don’t know.”
“You know what? You’ve fought for and won everything you ever wanted in life. This is no different. You make a plan, you execute, and you win. That’s who you are.”
I’d never heard my granddad talk to me like this. It was quite a day of revelations. “Well, thanks.”
“Don’t thank me for telling the truth. Now what’s your plan?”
“About that . . . I don’t really have one yet.”
Gramps got up and sent me a disapproving look. “Get on it. Woman like that doesn’t come on the market but once in your lifetime. If she recognizes you for the good man you are, you need to do like that singer says.”
“What singer?”
“That hot number from Houston that never wears pants, married to the rapper, sings pretty good.”
“Beyoncé?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “That’s the one. She says if you like it, then you need to put a ring on it. That’s what you need to do, Carter, you put a ring on it.”
He’d been watching VH1 again. “All right, Gramps. A ring on it. I’m going to work on that.”
The intercom on the office phone buzzed again. “Ms. Montgomery on line two,” Shawn announced.
“Tell her I’ll be one second.” I got up and went around the desk to hug my grandfather.
He slapped me on the back. “I’m going to head out, go to that pretty townhouse you bought for me, and watch your life unfold on SportsCenter.”
“You’re having a little bit too much fun with this, Gramps.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, I am. Gonna get me some great-grandkids before too long. I’d like a girl the first time out if you can manage it.”
I was at a loss for words. “You might be getting a little further down the road than Kit-Kat and me. But I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You do that, son. You do that. Your girl is waiting on line two.” He smiled and walked out.
I sat back down and pressed the speakerphone. “Exclusively enjoying my favors, are you?”
Katrina’s laugh rang out over the speaker. “You saw that, did you?”
“Indeed I did. You were looking right. I like the new designs.”
“I thought you might. Listen, I’m thinking about cutting out of here early.”
“You’ve already had quite a full day.”
“Haven’t I, though? Maybe you’ve got some ideas on how to fill in the rest of my day.”
“Are you propositioning me, Kitty?”
“Trying my damnedest to get more of those favors of yours. Think you can help me out?”
I opened up my calendar on my laptop. I had two meetings this afternoon. Neither one was crucial. “I can be home in half an hour.”
“See you there,” Katrina purred.
“Bet.” I started looking for my keys.
“Oh—and Carter?”
“Yeah?”
“Hurry.” She put so much heated inflection into that one word.
“Already there.” I slammed the phone down. “Shawn!” I called out as I stuffed my laptop, tablet, and cell into my messenger bag.
“Yes?” He stood at the door and watched in surprise as I shoved my arms into my jacket and pulled my car keys out of the top drawer.
“I need you to have Irene sit in on my two o’clock meeting today.”
“Okay.” He jotted a note.
“And I want you to sit in on the four o’clock.”
Shawn paused in surprise. “Me?”
“Yep.”
“You want me to go to a meeting in your place?” The kid looked terrified.
“Shawn, all you have to do is listen and offer an opinion every now and then. Don’t sign anything.”
“I wouldn’t!”
I clapped him on the shoulder on my way to the elevator. “I know, Shawn. That was a joke. I have the utmost faith in you.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No, why do you ask?” I pressed the down button and wondered what Katrina had on under those tight pants that she didn’t have a visible panty line. I pressed the button again. She had told me to hurry. I did not plan to disappoint.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you leave the office early,” he said in confusion.
“Well then it’s high time, don’t you think?” I flashed him a grin and stepped onto the elevator.
He put his hand in the door as it was about to close. “If something comes up, can I call you?”
I thought about it for a second and then shook my head. “No. I’ll see you in the morning.” The door closed on his stunned face. I jingled my keys in my hand, watching the descending numbers. Getting a life felt pretty damn good.
16
It’s time to pull out the big guns
Katrina—Tuesday, June 22—8:50 a.m.
“Katrina, one second,” Danila requested as I swept past her office on the way to mine at BellaRich. The offices were near the fashion district and took up two floors of a converted manufacturing flat. Downstairs were our sales and display offices. This floor was designed like an open loft, with a wall of windows across the back wall that housed our conference rooms, larger offices to the right, and cubicles to the left. We’d recently updated the break room and made it into a small, full-service kitchen, break room, and lounge. I waved to a few people hovering near the coffee machines as I neared.
I pretended that I didn’t hear Danila calling me.
“We have a small problem,” she announced, clearly expecting me to pop in there.
“I’m not trying to hear it!” I tossed over my shoulder, lengthened my stride, and kept moving down the hallway. I was in a happy place and planning to stay that way. My hot new boyfriend had me feeling good, our NFL designs were sold out, and there had been no more Kevin drama. Life. Was. Good.
We had filed suit against Kevin for defamation of character and we demanded that any other accusers either show proof or retract their statements. The only thing we hadn’t been able to do was prove that Kevin planted cameras in my condo or determine if he was acting alone. I was content to ride out the last of the snide comments and questions to make the whole thing go away. The other night, I’d run into some people who I’d thought were friends of mine, but they were downright nasty and a little too thrilled that some dirt had been thrown in my direction.
I considered it a wake-up call. Not everybody who you are friendly with is necessarily your friend. This whole experience with Kevin let me know that for too long I’d let what other people thought of me define me. I also realized that there were very few people in the world who truly knew me. My family, my sisters-in-law, Yazlyn, and Carter. They knew the real Audelia Katrina. They’d seen me at my best and my worst and they were okay with me either way. So if Kevin being a complete dick meant that I was able to weed through fake friends to figure who was genuine, it was a small enough price to pay. So, yes, life was good and I was aiming to keep it that way.
“Katrina!” she called out again, leaping out of her chair to catch up with me. I smiled at Tara, the summer intern who was assisting me while my regular admin was on maternity leave. I pushed open the door to my corner office and set my laptop case down on my glass-top desk. I walked over to the small Keurig on the credenza and programmed my second cup of coffee for the day. Living with Carter had many, many privileges, but sleeping in was not one of them. Not that I was complaining. He had the most delicious ways of keeping me awake at night and waking me up in the morning. I languidly stirred creamer into my cup and reminisced over the amazing way he’d woken me up this morning. It involved an ingenious use of cherries and scarves and napkin rings.
Danila came running in behind me. I whirled around and flounced down into my chair with a sigh. “Fine. What’s today’s drama?”
&nb
sp; “Just a second, Beau and Belle are coming.”
“Aw hell.” I kicked my feet up on the desk.
“Exactly.” She sat down at the small round table in the corner and flipped the cover open on her iPad.
I heard Belle and Beau coming down the hallway.
“Delaney Mirabella Montgomery, that is not what I said.” Beau’s heated voice rose beyond polite levels. “All I said is that you might have mentioned that twins run in your family before we decided to scale bareback mountain.”
“Oh jeez,” I muttered, wondering not for the first time if working this closely with family was such a good idea.
“And I said that not only have you met my twin sisters, it was your damned idea to throw both caution and condoms to the wind. Literally,” she snapped back and pushed past him into my office. She gave me a kiss on the cheek, took a sip of my coffee, and sat down on my sofa with her arms and legs crossed. Beau stood in the doorway, looking slightly ill.
“Good morning, family!” I trilled with a wide smile. “Are we going to be designing a line of baby clothes?”
Beau blanched. “We don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have been shouting in the middle of the workplace about scaling bareback mountain,” I suggested.
“Tacky ass.” Belle shot him a look.
I glanced back and forth between the two of them. This was not the first time I was stuck in between the two of them and their flare-ups. It didn’t bother me. When two people were passionate about each other, it spilled over into a lot of different areas. Poor Danila, who was new to this, shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearly wondering what side she was supposed to be on. “Newlyweds, chill. You both want kids. Whether it’s two now or one later, you’ll be great parents. Now, let’s allow Danila to break the bad news. You’re freaking her out.”
Beau went to sit next to his wife and slid his arm around her. He kissed her on the forehead. “Sorry, babe. Go ahead, Danila—what is it now?”
“Renee Nightingale.”
Any Man I Want Page 11