by Bella Andre
He'd never been able to forget the look on Julie's face on the yacht when she'd said, "I hate you." Here it was again.
"Your image is no longer any concern of mine," she said. Then, just in case he wasn't clear that she was severing both their professional and personal relationships, she added, "I'll send your things by courier by this afternoon."
He watched her walk across the parking lot, get in her car, and drive away. Just hours ago she was naked on his lap. Now she was telling him what a worthless asshole he was. As if his father hadn't drummed that into his head every time he blew it on the field his entire childhood.
His phone rang. "What?"
Jay's voice boomed out of the earpiece. "Got a couple of things to discuss this fine morning."
"Make it quick," Ty growled.
"Care to confirm a serious relationship with a pretty blonde?"
"Negative." Even if it killed him to say it, he was going to get the words out. "We were just having fun. We're done now."
"Got it," Jay said, moving smoothly onto his second order of business. "Looks like one of the biggest companies in the world wants your name and face attached to their product."
"Whatever," Ty said, not in the mood to deal with business right now. "As long as the money's good, I'm in."
Jay was uncharacteristically silent for a moment. "Great! I told them you wouldn't have any problem with the product."
A warning bell went off. "What is it?"
"I know how you feel about alcohol, and you know the League won't let players promote it anyway, so that's one big moneymaker that's always had a red X through it. But I've found the next big thing and they want you to be their man."
He paused for effect, and Ty suddenly wondered why he hadn't found a new agent a long time ago.
"Buzzed Cola is going to pay you ten million dollars to do worldwide print and TV advertising for one year!"
Ty didn't need the money and he wasn't a huge fan of the new ultra-caffeine drink that everyone swigged like water. He knew exactly why the advertisers wanted him on board. As soon as kids saw him drinking Buzzed Cola, they'd be lining up to buy cases of it. Ten minutes ago, he would have said no without giving it a second thought.
Then again, ten minutes ago Julie hadn't looked at him like he was the scum of the earth.
Ten minutes ago, he thought that maybe, just maybe she was going to love him back.
Too bad he was such an idiot. Julie was never going to stop thinking of him as a fuck-up. And right now Ty couldn't think of a single reason not to act like one.
"I'll think about it," he said, hanging up on his agent and calling a local cab company. "Hey, I need a ride from Palo Alto to San Francisco." He nearly gave Julie's address, before he remembered he wasn't welcome there anymore. It was time to go back to his overinflated excuse for a home.
Alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
As a young child, Julie had mastered the art of numbing her emotions. She'd block out her mother's drunken scenes, she'd convince herself that her father's mistresses really were her nannies, just like he said. All of that practice came in handy as she drove Jack home on autopilot. She tried to go inside the beautiful stucco two-story house with him, but he barely let her hit the brakes before he jumped out of the backseat and ran through a side gate into his backyard.
Still, she missed his small, angry presence once he was gone and she was left sitting in her car, staring at the empty passenger seat that Ty had curled his tall, muscular body into for the past two weeks.
Ty's final words played on repeat inside her brain; "none of your damn business" jostling for first place on the leaderboard of shame with "You want to know why your dates aren't interested in you, babe?"
Even though she'd known all along that she was nothing special to him, that a guy like him couldn't possibly know the true meaning of the word love, she hadn't thought she would feel so much pain when he finally showed his true colors.
Julie drove back to the city, but before she went home, she needed to make an important pit stop. This time she was going to be the one to walk away first, to cut every single tie that bound them together.
She walked into the Outlaws headquarters and had security buzz Bobby. A guy like him worked 24-7 and she had a hunch she'd find him in his office, making his way through a list of the people whose lives he planned to ruin now that he'd finished with her.
"Bobby Wilson here."
"It's Julie Spencer. I need a word. Now."
She had to give him points for how quickly he masked his surprise. "I can always spare a moment for a pretty lady such as yourself."
Julie ground her teeth together. God, she hated being called "pretty lady" every other sentence. Maybe it was time to take some kickboxing lessons. That way she could knock the teeth out of the next guy who acted like she was a Thoroughbred for sale.
His door was open when she got off the elevator.
"Now, what can I do for you, my dear?"
She smiled sweetly. "I quit."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you referring to your job with my boy Ty?"
Julie wanted to tell Bobby that Ty was irredeemable. She wanted to say that there was no point in hiring another image consultant or PR agency to replace her, because working with Ty was an impossible task. But even in her current state, she knew those were the rantings of a woman done wrong.
Worse, they made her sound pathetic and lovelorn, something she swore she'd never be again.
"I'm afraid I took your client on under false pretenses. 1 had never worked with a professional athlete before and it turns out that an assignment like this is beyond the boundaries of my expertise. You will not be receiving an invoice from my company for the work already done."
Bobby sat back in his chair, then tilted his cowboy hat back on his shiny bald head. "Trouble in paradise?"
She refused to react to his taunting. But she wasn't going to lie either and say that she and Ty hadn't been an item; even though they hadn't lasted twenty-four hours in the public eye.
"Ty Calhoun and I are not a couple. And from this point on, he is no longer my client. Good luck with the team."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ishouldn't have resigned from the Outlaws account without talking it over with you first. I've put the entire company at risk," Julie said bitterly. Amy sat next to Julie on the couch in her office and rubbed her back. "I should never have let you take the assignment. Not after what you told me about your past."
Julie shook her head. "I needed the money. For the stupid building." Damn her pride for not billing Bobby for the time she'd put in. She was screwed. "I don't know how I'm going to pay the mortgage and everyone's salaries. I'm so sorry."
"If you're waiting for me to tell you that you did the wrong thing, forget it. Sometimes your principles have to come first. Besides," Amy added, "you did a great job. Ty was photographed at charity events, fund-raisers, and as a coach at a children's camp, plus he was the subject of several great, feel-good feature stories. You virtually eradicated his image as a good-for-nothing bad boy overnight. We're bound to get some great new clients."
Julie wished her friend's praise could make her feel better. But not only was her business on the verge of ruin, she felt hollow and cold. She had to figure out a way to stop loving Ty. Because even though he was a selfish bastard, she still couldn't stop thinking about him.
What if ten years of longing stretched into twenty?
What if she never got over him?
The only way she knew how to forget Ty was to bury herself in work. It had almost worked before. And until she could figure out another tactic, work was all she had.
Julie typed in her email password and let herself be buried beneath a flood of queries and demands that suddenly seemed utterly meaningless.
No matter how Ty tried to fill them, there were too many hours in the day. He got up early to sweat away his demons in the gym, he stayed late with the new round of kids at Tony's fo
otball camp, and ran for miles along the cliffs near his house.
During the week he'd been at Julie's, his house keeping staff told him the all-day parties had whittled away, leaving his house empty and silent as a tomb. Ty couldn't see the point in inviting his buddies back over, in having a bunch of bikini-clad women in his backyard anymore. And he definitely couldn't head down those steps beneath his garage and not revisit that first potent kiss, the one that proved ten years hadn't dulled their passion for each other in the least.
Thank God training camp started next Monday. He just needed to make it through the rest of the week, then he could bury his feelings in football and ice packs and strategy sessions.
For a couple of days he'd actually considered doing the Buzzed Cola ads. But spite and pride were damn stupid reasons for advocating something he despised.
He closed his eyes to get through his next set on the bench press, and when he opened them Dominic was standing behind him, spotting.
"Benching three hundred pounds isn't the smartest thing in the world to be doing by yourself," Dominic said.
"Gotta get ready for pre-season."
Dom nodded. "I'm glad you're here, actually. I wanted to chat for a minute."
Ty dragged his sorry ass over to the pull-up bar. "Shoot."
"I've been hearing things about your agent. Have been for some time, actually."
Ty wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn't. He'd been putting off dealing with Jay for way too long.
"Probably time to find a new agent."
Dom nodded. "Good plan." He paused for a moment, then caught Ty's eyes in the mirror behind the free weights. "You let me know if you need anything, okay? Wouldn't want you to drop three hundred pounds on your ribs."
Ty appreciated Dom's none-too-subtle offer. "Will do," he said, heading for the showers. It was time to take care of some overdue business.
All Julie wanted was a quiet evening at home to catch up on her emails. She was going to brew a pot of tea, put on her most comfortable sweats, and sit on the couch with her computer on her lap until she'd cleared out her inbox. She'd just put the kettle on when her cell phone rang.
She wasn't going to answer it, but when her mother's private number flashed on the screen, Julie's efficient evening flew out the window. Her mother called for only one reason: because she was sick from drink and no one else was willing to help her.
"Oh Julie, I'm so glad you're home. 1 have the stomach flu again. Estella can't stay the night."
Julie heard her mother's assistant in the background saying, "You need to get back into bed, Carol."
Thirty minutes later, Julie entered her mother's private wing. The lights had been dimmed and the room smelled like rum and vomit.
The last time Julie had been in her parents' house, Ty had been with her. He'd been so loving that night, so attuned to not only her embarrassment, but also the discomfort that wrapped around her whenever she set foot in this house.
She didn't want to think about him, didn't want to give him any credit--but if he'd been there for her when she needed him, why would he have turned on a scared little boy?
All week, an insistent little voice had been saying, Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you should have listened to Ty's side of the story.
Her mother was lying against a stack of pillows, groaning. "Julie, is that you?"
She sat down on the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Horrible. I must have had some bad seafood again."
Julie nodded, even though she knew damn well that salmonella had nothing whatsoever to do with her mother's predicament. Everyone knew Carol was an alcoholic, but no one had the nerve to tell her to take hold of her life and get some help.
Julie's heart squeezed tight in her chest as she finally faced a truth that had been nearly thirty years in coming: She'd never been brave enough to face her own personal demons, either.
And yet she'd expected Ty to come clean and face all of his in the public eye.
And he had. Ty didn't lie about cutting ties with his alcoholic father, a man who had refused treatment time and time again, even though it would have been on Ty's dime.
Sure, Ty had gotten swept up in the money and the fame that came with being a pro athlete. But at least he'd been honest about where he'd come from.
Whereas she'd spent her whole life hiding behind the facade of perfection, in both her personal and business lives. It wasn't right to expect Ty to change if she wouldn't step up to the plate and deal with her own big problems.
Julie stood up and started opening the thick drapes one by one. The sun hadn't yet set and the sky was a clear, beautiful blue.
"Too bright!" her mother complained, but Julie ignored her.
"Where's Daddy tonight?"
Her mother grimaced and covered her eyes with her hand. "He's got a late business meeting."
Julie grabbed her phone out of her purse and dialed her father's cell. "This is your daughter, Julie. I'll be at your office in fifteen minutes. You and I need to have a quick chat."
Carol sat up in bed, knocking off several pillows. "What are you doing?"
"What 1 should have done a long time ago. Whatever relationship you and my father have agreed to is none of my business, but I'm not a little girl anymore and I'm not going to act like one. You don't really have the stomach flu."
Carol went completely white. "What are you talking about? Of course I do."
Julie moved to the bed and took her mother's hands into her own. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. Drinking has never solved any of your problems. Please, let me help you."
Carol's tears fell onto the back of Julie's hand. "I don't know if can."
Julie smiled. "I love you, Mom. You're a strong woman. We both are."
"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy." Julie knew one of the reasons her mother had stayed with her father was because she thought it was the best thing for Julie. "Are you happy, honey?"
Julie took a deep breath. "I'm getting there." She kissed her mother on the forehead. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? We'll make some plans."
Her father was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk when she arrived. His "assistant" was the only other person in the office, and Julie was certain that she'd interrupted a night out on the town.
"I don't like being given orders, Julie," her father said.
Julie walked over to the window along the back wall, watching the sun setting over the Bay.
More than anything, she wanted to see Ty again and beg for his forgiveness for being such a cold, judgmental bitch. But first she had to own up to her life's loose ends.
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," she said, her back to her father. Some of his faults resided within her: his pride, his stubbornness. They'd helped her build a business, but they'd nearly destroyed her personal life.
"If this is about you breaking up with that football player, go cry to your mother about it. I'm a busy man."
Julie turned to face her father. How nice to know he cared. "But not too busy to sleep with your assistant on a regular basis, right?"
Blake's face turned a nasty shade of red. "You know nothing whatsoever about my personal life."
She nodded. "You're right. I don't. Because you've never shared one single thing with me."
He pushed his chair back. "We're through here."
She moved toward him, steady and confident in front of him for the first time. She felt different on the inside. Sure, she'd always displayed an outer confidence, but it no longer felt like it was just a part she was playing to get ahead, to win clients and money. "Not quite."
Unaccustomed to the powerful woman standing before him, Blake sat back down.
"I came here to tell you that Mom has agreed to enter a treatment program for her alcoholism, and if you do one single thing to throw her off course, you'll regret it." She forced her lips into a farce of a smile. "Good night. Have a nice date."
It wasn't until she got behind the wheel of he
r car that she realized that her hands were shaking.
Now only two items were left on her to-do list. Figure out a way to save her business and convince Ty to give her another chance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Ty walked into his agent's posh office unannounced. By the time Jay's pretty young assistant figured out how to operate the intercom, Ty had already made himself comfortable on Jay's suede guest chair. Quickly masking his surprise, Jay flicked off the split-screen horse races on his Bang & Olufsen sixty-inch plasma and yanked off his earpiece. "You winning?" Ty asked.
Frankly, he wouldn't be all that surprised to find out that his agent was knee-deep in bookies or debt. He and Jay had never been friends. No one could argue that Jay was a master at making the deal, and the money had always been incredible. But although Ty had never confirmed his suspicions about Jay's predilections for hookers and drugs, he wondered if he'd been wise to let someone just this side of legal represent him for so many years.
Jay tightened his tie and grabbed a folder off his desk.
"Glad you're here. I just got the contracts for Buzzed Cola. Ever wanted to buy a French chateau?"
"That much money, huh?"
Jay smacked his lips. "The royalties are going to be pouring in for years." He was practically dancing at the prospect of closing this deal. And no wonder: Ten percent of ten million was a million. Someone had to pay for Jay's big-screen TVs, prime location in Union Square, and gambling debts.
But he wasn't going to be the one doing it anymore.
Ty flipped through the thick contract Jay handed him. No question, the numbers looked good. But he already had more money than he could spend. Especially since a French chateau wasn't on his need-to-buy list.
"You really think this is a good move? Won't a lot of kids be getting wired on this crap?"
Jay snorted. "So what? Trust me on this, it's a hot product and you're perfect for it."
"I hear what you're saying. There's only one problem."