Fighting for Redemption (The Elite Book 4)

by Nicole Flockton

  Cassandra didn’t wait to see who recognized Brett; she slipped into the empty elevator and pressed the button for her floor. As the doors glided shut, she spied Brett’s shocked and disappointed face at having left him to handle the group of people now surrounding him.

  Laying her head against the mirrored wall, she let out a long, deep breath. She was being a bitch. No two ways about it. She shouldn’t have left Brett alone. It hadn’t been fair, and as part of her job, she should’ve stayed and helped him with the crowd.

  The doors opened on her floor, and she hesitated. The right thing to do would be to go back to the lobby and make sure Brett was coping with the situation. Problem was, she wanted to go to her room and sort out the jumbled thoughts zooming around her mind.

  Her professionalism kicked in. Brett and his public image were her responsibility. Stepping back, she hit the disc for the lobby. She used the few seconds it took for her to descend to focus her thoughts on the situation at hand—ensuring Brett interacted with the public with no issues and didn’t mention the show.

  As the doors opened, she saw the crowd had grown and Brett wasn’t by himself—the others from dinner had joined him. They all stood together smiling as pictures were taken.

  Cassandra stood to the side and observed the body language of the five people. Mitch had an arm slung around Julia’s shoulder and she leaned into him, her arm resting protectively across Mitch’s stomach. Drake and Tamara’s pose was similar, although Tamara seemed a little apprehensive with all the attention. As an athletic trainer, she was more a behind-the-scenes type person than one used to the limelight, like the others. Brett was beside Tamara. Though his smile looked easy and happy, Cassandra could tell he was anything but. His eyes weren’t sparkling the way they had earlier this evening when he’d looked at her. His back was ramrod straight, not the relaxed pose of someone happy to have their photo taken.

  Whether he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye or not, his gaze zeroed in on where she stood. His mouth moved and she made out what he was saying to her.

  Help.

  A chuckle erupted out of her. She nodded her understanding and moved away from the congregation of people. Cassandra made her way to the concierge.

  “Good evening, how can I help you?”

  “Hi.” She flicked her eyes down to his nametag and then back to his face. “Adam. My name’s Cassandra Fielder. I work with Star Image Consultants. I was hoping you could get some security to head over to the elevators. A group has congregated around some athletes I’m here with. I think they’d like to adjourn to their rooms for the evening.”

  “Certainly, Ms. Fielder, we’ll have the situation rectified in a jiffy.”

  “Thank you.”

  With a nod, she turned and headed back to where the impromptu photo session was still underway. When she got to Brett, she found him surrounded by a group of women all wanting selfies with him.

  Jealousy, sharp and hot, pierced her stomach, surprising her with its intensity.

  This is not good.

  She couldn’t be developing any sort of romantic attachment to Brett, could she? More to the point, why the hell would she? They hadn’t spent that much time together. Sure, he seemed to be acting completely differently than when she’d first met him. It didn’t mean he’d changed though. It would be just as easy for him to put on a front to get through the necessary tasks to get the job done in placating his sponsors.

  So what if he seemed to genuinely care about the kids on the television show? Hadn’t she’d thought Michael cared for her? Hell, even loved her? That had turned out so well for her. Married at twenty-two, divorced at twenty-four. God, that stung. She hadn’t planned on being one of the failed marriages statistics.

  No.

  Cassandra shoved the thoughts of her divorce away. That was seven years ago. She was older and wiser now—wasn’t she? When she looked up and found Brett’s worried eyes on her, she wondered if she’d learned anything at all. Perhaps for the duration of her time with Brett, she’d be better off remembering what louses professional athletes could be. Besides, she had a job to do, and it started with attempting to disperse the crowd, with the help of the arriving security.

  There could be no future with Brett Hunter. A fact she would do well to remember.

  12

  The second day of filming was upon them and Brett hadn’t had a chance to talk to Cassandra about the previous evening and how she’d gone hot and cold on him. He’d expected them to travel together so they could talk, but she left a message saying she’d meet him on location.

  Was she avoiding him?

  Geez, why was he even worrying about it? Getting involved with someone wasn’t in his plans. If Naomi and Dean couldn’t have their happy ever after, he didn’t deserve one either.

  “Yo, Brett, how are you?”

  Brett looked up from the piece of paper he’d been studying and found Drake standing next to him.

  “Hey man, I’m good. How are you?”

  “Fantastic, ready to start the day. Crazy end to the evening last night, wasn’t it?”

  “Tell me about it. How did a group of six people coming out of the elevator evolve into a fan photo session?”

  “Who knows, but Cassandra was pretty slick with getting security there to break it up.”

  A small smile formed before he gave it a conscious thought. “Yeah, she handled it well. Then again, it’s her job. She’s very impressive.”

  “Don’t tell me bad boy Brett is on the road to being tamed.”

  Brett’s immediate reaction was to laugh, but it hit him—he didn’t want to laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion. For so long, pushing the limits had been what he’d felt compelled to do. Now he didn’t know. All he knew was, he was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of the misconceptions, even though it had been what he’d wanted. Did he even know who he really was?

  Not wanting to clue Drake in on the confusing thoughts, he punched the guy lightly on the arm. “Nah, just giving credit where credit is due.”

  Drake laughed out loud. “You keep telling yourself that. Anyway, I’ll see you on set. God only knows what they’ve got in store for us today.”

  “I hope it’s something fun.”

  “Here’s hoping.”

  He returned Drake's one handed wave and turned his attention back to the sheet of paper in his hand.

  The facility where Naomi was staying had contacted him to let him know she’d had a fall out of her bed. She wasn’t hurt too badly, just bumps and bruises. The email was a timely reminder that while he was out here having fun, she was stuck in limbo where she didn’t even know what year it was. Alive, but not living in the real sense of the word.

  It should’ve been him. Naomi had been a sweet sixteen-year-old girl when her life had been irrevocably changed. He’d been eighteen and figured he was invincible. He and Dean had been dreaming about going to the Olympics together, taking gold and silver in every race. In fact, they’d joked about it the night of the accident.

  Brett had taken his eyes off the road for a second as they shared a laugh and that’s when it happened, when the deer leaped out onto the road in front of him. He’d swerved to miss it, but swerving had been the wrong thing to do.

  Brett closed his eyes in an attempt to banish the memory of the accident that had taken his best friend and ruined his best friend’s sister’s life. The girl he’d had a crush on. Dean hadn’t known about Brett’s crush and neither had Naomi. He hadn’t said anything because he hadn’t wanted to ruin the friendship they shared. One night had changed the history of three people.

  He was the one who had to live with it every day. Remember it every anniversary. Even his parents had no idea how deep the guilt was he carried about that one night. He was all Naomi had left as her parents had died before the accident, Dean joining them in the afterlife.

  What would Dean think of the life Brett was living now? He knew the answer to that. Dean would be angry at him for wasting the
opportunities he’d been presented. Another guilt he had to live with, knowing he was willingly letting his best friend down.

  “Brett? Are you all right?”

  Clapping penetrated the dark tunnel he’d fallen into. The black mist covering his eyes dissipated and Cassandra’s worried features came into focus.

  She’s so beautiful.

  The unbidden thought preceded him milliseconds before his hand reached out and cupped her cheek. He wasn’t thinking clearly. All he knew was he needed to feel something tangible. Something real. And that tangible, real, thing was Cassandra.

  Brett breathed deeply, his senses coming alive as he inhaled the fresh scent Cassandra wore. Part of his mind told him to stop. He ignored it.

  Taking a step toward her, his free arm closed about her waist and pulled her close.

  “What are you doing?”

  It was a warning if he’d ever heard one. He was just choosing to disregard it. The gap narrowed between them as he lowered his head to her lips.

  One touch and he’d feel like himself again. One touch to rid himself of the never-ending guilt that constantly shrouded him. One touch and he would let her go.

  The moment his lips connected, all felt right within him. A momentary relief all too quickly gone when Cassandra pushed against his chest and he let her go.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” She ground the question out through clenched teeth, her shock and anger reaching out to him.

  “I don’t know.”

  He swiveled around and walked away. Away from the set. Away from Cassandra. If only he could walk away from his guilt as easily.

  * * *

  Brett threw a rock and watched as it skipped over the top of the small pond behind the hotel. Today had been a royal clusterfuck. But somehow he’d managed to put on a happy face and get through the shooting that needed to be done. Tomorrow they’d head back to Colorado to start working on the projects. That was when it would get interesting. He was excited to begin the work. The past two days had all been interviews and getting to know the kids and their families. All filler stuff they would use on the show in between the actual working shots. He was still determined to beat Mitch and Drake.

  He hadn’t seen Cassandra since he’d kissed her. He knew she’d been around, but she’d kept her distance.

  The sound of his stomach grumbling reminded him it had been a while since he’d had anything to eat. There would be no group dinner tonight. Room service and a movie seemed like a good way to spend the evening.

  With one last throw of a rock over the smooth surface, he slapped his jean-clad legs to rid himself of the dirt lingering on his hands. Turning, he moved toward the entrance to the hotel, stopping about halfway when he noticed Cassandra standing at the top of the small rise.

  He remained rooted to the spot, watching as she made her way to where he stood.

  She stopped about three feet from him. Brett stuck his hands in his pockets to resist reaching out to touch her.

  “You look sad.”

  Well, those weren’t the words he expected to hear.

  “No, not sad, just thinking.”

  “About today? I thought it went well. There didn’t seem to be any issues. Unless something happened and you need to tell me about it.”

  “No, nothing to tell. It’s going to be great working with the kids. I’m excited about it all.” He winked at her, hoping he could fool her that everything was fine and she wouldn’t press him for more information. He had no plans to let Cassandra know about Naomi. He hadn’t spent the last few years focusing on the present and not his past for nothing. If Cassandra somehow came across his relationship with Naomi, he suspected she’d want to use it to show the public a different side to him. No way would he let Naomi be exploited. He’d ruined her life once. He had no plans to ruin it again.

  “Are you sure everything’s okay? I need to know. I don’t want to be getting emails or texts from Frank with snapshots of headlines with your name starring front and center.”

  Anger built inside of him, boiling through his blood. He couldn’t believe she still didn’t trust him or his word. “Seriously? You can’t take my word for it? We’ve been working together for a few weeks now. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. That’s still not enough for you to be reassured that when I say everything is okay, I mean everything is okay.”

  Cassandra’s hand landed on his arm. A bolt of desire fired through him, vying with his anger. “Brett, I’m sor—”

  “Don’t.” He shook her hand off his arm. “Don’t say anything else. I need to go.”

  “Go where.”

  No way in hell was he going to tell her his planned destination. He needed to make sure Naomi was okay. He had to protect her, keep her safe. Make sure nothing bad touched her again. So what if what he really wanted to do was to grab Cassandra and lose himself in her?

  It could never happen.

  It should never happen.

  God, how he wanted it to happen.

  13

  What the hell just happened?

  Cassandra rolled the question around in her mind and couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation. The whole day had been one she’d wanted to start over.

  The moment she'd arrived on set, things had been off. Then Brett had kissed her, in front of everyone. But it was the look on his face when she walked up to him tonight that stayed with her. His look of utter sadness had her fighting the urge to wrap him up in her arms and hold him. Reassure him that whatever was wrong she was there for him, always would be.

  Always would be.

  Where on earth had that thought come from? This was crazy thinking. Absolutely crazy. She couldn't deny her growing attraction to him.

  There must be something wrong with her to be attracted to someone who had the power to hurt her like Michael had done. Brett's reputation as a bad boy player preceded him. Why would he change for her? He appeared to be doing and saying all the right things, convincing others he wanted to improve his image. Part of her couldn't help feeling it was all an act.

  A slight breeze blew up, ruffling her hair around her face. A shiver wracked her body. The day had been warm, but the night had turned cold. With one last look at the pond, as though it would give her the answers she sought in understanding Brett's mood, she turned and headed back to the warmth of the hotel.

  * * *

  Her hand hovered inches from Brett's door. It was probably wiser to wait until tomorrow to face him again. Give him the night to get over whatever demons he was fighting. Yeah, if only she'd listen to that sensible part of her brain, then she wouldn't be standing here.

  Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her knuckles lightly on the door. Her knock echoed around the hallway. Or maybe she just thought it did.

  A minute passed and she tried again.

  Why wasn't he answering? Had he gone to the bar instead of his room? Or maybe out to eat with the others? Or maybe he’d gone to swim some laps. Work off whatever had stressed him out at the lake.

  She made her way back downstairs and entered the restaurant where they'd eaten the previous evening. Even with the lights dimmed, she could make out most of the patrons eating, and none looked like Brett.

  He wasn’t at the bar or the pool. Cassandra headed to the main desk, thinking they might have an idea where he was. It was a long shot, but she was beginning to worry. She wasn’t Brett's keeper, but she had to make sure he wasn't getting himself into situations that would jeopardize all the good work they'd done over the past few weeks.

  "Good evening. Can I help you?"

  Cassandra smiled at the young woman who'd addressed her. "Hi, I was wondering if you could tell me if Brett Hunter left a message for me. I'm Cassandra Fielder."

  The chances of him leaving her a message were extremely slim, but it was a better approach than saying, do you know where Brett Hunter is?

  The urge to drum her fingers on the granite counter top was strong, but she suppressed it. Nothing worse than se
eming impatient for the person who was doing the searching for you to go even slower.

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Fielder, there's no message for you and…" the other woman paused, checking the computer. All Cassandra’s senses went on high alert. "Our records show Mr. Hunter checked out almost an hour ago."

  "Checked out? Are you sure?"

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  This was not good. What would Frank say if he knew she'd lost a client? What the heck was Brett thinking to leave and not tell her?

  "Right. Do you happen to know where he was heading?" Cassandra asked.

  Oh God, what a stupid question. Of course the receptionist wouldn't know where Brett was heading.

  "No, I don't, but if you check with the concierge, they may know."

  "Thanks.” Cassandra nodded and headed to the concierge's desk.

  Five minutes later, she was back in her room in a state of disbelief. Brett had left for the airport. They had a return flight in the morning. Had something happened which required him to leave immediately? If that was the case, why hadn't he told her? Of all the irresponsible things to do, this rated up there as a major one. Where the heck was he heading? She could only hope that it was back to Colorado.

  Grabbing her phone from the side table, she dialed Brett's number, the call immediately when to voicemail.

  Damn, she’d have to leave a message. The last thing she wanted to do because he could easily delete it without listening to it.

  He couldn't be on a flight already, could he? More than likely he’d turned off his phone, which meant she wouldn’t be able to locate him on the App she’d installed on his phone. Something she did with all of her clients. A tinge of guilt pierced her for not mentioning it to Brett. Dan had told her and Frank to do whatever necessary to ensure Brett stayed on the straight and narrow. None of that mattered now. Whether he was on a flight or not, she wanted him to know he wasn't in her good books for walking away without a word to her.

  "Brett, it's Cassandra. I don't know where you are or what you're doing, but I'm not happy that you left without telling me. Call me when you get this message, even if it's the middle of the night."