Alan turned his head briefly to follow Chase’s gaze back to the front of the restaurant.
“That’s not the hostess,” Alan said indifferently. “She owns the place. She has no trouble turning on the bitch, but I hear the food is excellent.”
Chase immediately bristled at the use of the word bitch to describe any woman, much less the one whom he currently had his eye on. But if that was as bad as Alan got in his description of women this evening, he’d consider it a win. “Know anything else about her?”
“Oh, great,” Shaw griped. “I can tell already where this is going. If I answer your question, can we get down to business?”
Chase held up his hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“She’s got a rich daddy.”
“Daddy as in sugar?” Chase asked, feeling the disappointment of such a beauty going home to some shriveled-up geezer. But it would explain why she was so cantankerous.
“Daddy as in father,” Alan clarified and Chase brightened.
“There’s a rumor that he’s going after next year’s senate seat, and her mother is Essex County DA,” Alan continued. “And she’s single, which I’m sure is the only thing you really want to know anyway.”
So she had breeding, Chase thought, not bothering to confirm or deny. It was best not to get too familiar with your agent. Alan Shaw was business. His glance swept one more time in her direction. Amanda Cole looked to be all pleasure. “How do you find out all this stuff?”
“I’m only as good as the knowledge I hold,” Shaw scoffed.
“You always sound so shady,” Chase said, “like you just came up with something from the seedy underbelly.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Alan remarked before switching topics. “Where’s your security?”
“I told them to go get my car and bring it back. The crowd doesn’t look too rowdy here and I want to take off as soon as we’re done.”
“Take off where?” Alan questioned suspiciously.
“Wherever I feel like,” Chase replied easily, knowing it would aggravate him further. “It’s my day off tomorrow.”
“When are you going to learn you can’t just venture off alone anymore?”
“Watch me,” Chase said. “I don’t have to always live in a bubble. And I like it when you don’t know where I am, it keeps you on your toes. What’s the agenda this evening?”
“I heard from Trojan again—” Alan began.
“I told you, I’m not doing a condom ad,” Chase cut him off heatedly. “And if that’s our only business tonight, I’m leaving right now.”
“Relax, it’s not.” Alan was quick to defuse the mounting tension before adding, “but it’s an incredible amount of money. And they don’t just sell condoms.”
Chase didn’t bother responding and leaned back against the booth, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, signifying there would be no further discussion on the topic.
Nicki returned with their drinks, took their order, and left to go place it.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Nicki gushed to Amanda, who was standing with Eric at the bar. “I’ve never been so happy to wait on someone in my life. He called me darlin’. It sounded like something out of one of those Hallmark movies.”
Amanda rolled her eyes and considered telling her he had called her the same thing. But then she might end up confessing that, at least for a moment, it had produced the same giddy effect. It also proved that it was a term he probably threw out to countless women. But Nicki was probably just his type: perky, freewheeling, and always ready for her close-up. If he played his cards right, he could be banging with her before daybreak.
“He looks like he’s made of plastic. Why on earth would you want to get involved with someone who’s more Ken doll than actual person?” Amanda asked.
“Do you know what someone like Chase Walker could do for my career?” Nicki couldn’t contain her excitement.
“Make you forget all about it?” Amanda quipped, and Eric snickered. “Let me guess, they both want steak?”
“How did you know?” Nicki asked.
“A little bird told me,” Amanda replied, fully appreciating the irony.
Chase covertly studied Amanda throughout his meal. His agent droned on, and he listened for key words signaling his full attention, a trick he had learned from being pulled in too many directions at once. He watched her go about her business. She was graceful, moving fluidly from table to table. She took a vested interest in every single one, sitting down momentarily at some of them with a wholesome familiarity. She seemed diligent and serious about her work, but with an appealing smile always at the ready. Not the fake, tight smile she’d first given him, but the one that showed she knew how to work a room. He looked around the restaurant, which seated about a hundred. It was tastefully decorated without being ostentatious. There was a cozy ambiance without it being too dark. It was also spotless. And the employees working seemed relaxed and happy enough to be there. It proved she knew how to run a smooth operation. It all added up to the fact that Amanda Cole had gotten his attention.
Chase also noticed that she left his table alone. The service was still impeccable, just not by her. She sent an attractive waitress to fawn over him. He liked that she wasn’t impressed by him, even if his ego did take a hit. She may have been fresh, but she was clearly also intelligent. She was class and sass, all perfectly packaged. Now he just needed to figure out if she was playing hard to get.
When they finished eating, Chase convinced Alan to leave with the promise that he was going to stay put for a while, have a few drinks, and let security drive him home. After a snide remark from Alan that if some tail was going to keep Chase from wandering off, he would take it and, with a leering smile in Amanda’s direction, he left. Chase then took a seat at the bar, ordered another beer, and started chatting it up with Eric. He continued to flirt with Nicki when she picked up orders. Soon customers began to approach him, camera phones in hand. Amanda tried to distance herself from it and focus on doing her job, but she could feel him watching her in between the polite conversation he made with any and all participants. He didn’t make any attempt to hide it. Whenever she glanced in his direction, he would give her a little wink, not the least bit concerned she caught him staring.
“You’re going to sit here all night and remind me of my bad manners, aren’t you?” Amanda said from behind him once the commotion had died down.
He turned around from his barstool to take her all in, appreciating what he saw. “I’m just waiting for security to come back with my car. I hope you don’t mind if I hang out.”
“They’ve been standing watch over a very nice Jaguar double-parked in front for the last half hour.”
“In that case, I’m just an oxymoron fishing for a date,” he said with a note of pure swagger.
“You know, one of those security guards is smaller than you,” she continued, deliberately ignoring his attempt to extend an invitation. “It looks sort of counterproductive.”
“He’s the one I use when women poke fun of me in public.”
“That hurt.”
“Guilty enough to join me for dinner?”
“You just ate.”
“Not tonight, tomorrow.”
“Sorry, I can’t. I have a business to run.”
“Then let’s do lunch? Or breakfast?”
“That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?” she said, finding herself teasing back.
“That’s what I’m talking about. What time are we getting off?” He was so annoyingly easygoing, not to mention gorgeous.
“Sorry, I don’t date guys I can see half naked with a Google search.”
“Geez, does that leave anyone else?”
“It leaves lots of people, Mr. Walker,” she retorted snippily, as if she were engaging in a political debate. “It leaves teachers and doctors and policemen. Men who are a little choosier about whom they let into their private lives, who can go out for a hamburger without it
making Page Six of the New York Post.”
“I’m about as choosy as they come when it’s about my privacy. It’s not my fault I can’t even spit dirt out of my mouth without someone taking a picture of it.”
“You really don’t spit all that much,” she mused before catching herself. Dagnabbit, it sounded like she knew too much about him. But he did have a lovely mouth.
He smiled again. “I promised my mother I would try to curb it. So you watch baseball?”
“Occasionally,” she fibbed, attempting to take another swipe at his swagger. “It’s hard to turn off Derek Jeter, he’s pretty dreamy.”
But he only grinned at her. “You can meet him at our wedding.”
“That’s laying it on a bit thick.”
“Maybe, but I’m just trying to illustrate how confident I am.”
“More like stubborn. Don’t worry, your interest in me will soon pass,” Amanda told him, disappointed that she knew she was speaking the truth, even though she wished she wasn’t. He was just killing time between models and debutantes. With the new day, this superstar would go back to his world of pomp and accolades. She wasn’t interested in the dubious distinction of sleeping with him just for claiming the honor of having done so.
“I don’t think so, angel,” he replied. “I’m a little more one-track-minded than that. All you have to do is say yes, it’ll make it easier for both of us.”
“I beg to differ, Mr. Walker,” she corrected him. “The way I see it, all I have to do is make it through to closing while dodging your cheesy advances.”
But she had been wrong. The next day, Chase came back. Soon after opening, before the dinner rush, he arrived alone, wearing jeans and a button-down with his shirttail out. He’d dressed it up with an expensive-looking, soft gray leather vest that his biceps swelled out of. He took the same seat he had at the bar the night before. Then he proceeded to stay until closing.
“This is ridiculous,” Amanda told him a little after eight, after he’d been there for more than three hours. She wanted to sound annoyed, but was secretly flattered. Not only was he pleasant and wonderful to look at, but he was also just so good with the banter. They had developed an easy rapport that she was beginning to find engaging.
“I know.” Chase even managed to gripe with delight. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this. At least I’m getting the lowdown on you.”
Eric took that precise moment to find his way to the other end of the bar after an apologetic shrug and a sheepish “It was all good.” Amanda crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him as he walked away before turning back to Chase.
“Their opinions could be biased. They work for me.”
“Then you better let me take you out so I can draw my own conclusions. If you’d just give me your digits, I’d be on my way.”
“Then what?” she asked him.
“You’re going to have to say yes to find out,” he said, smiling.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’m going to have to keep coming back here until I change your mind.”
Amanda laughed. “I almost want to see that.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” he warned her.
And after politely rebuffing him again, Chase went about the business of doing just that. Every day he was in town, he found his way to the Cold Creek Grille. She started keeping his table open, and he began having all his dinners there. He sometimes dined with his security, and sometimes they discreetly sat at the bar or a nearby table while he hosted teammates or held other meetings. Kings games and their replays became a staple on the bar’s television.
Chase got to meet Amanda’s parents one night, when they came in after hearing the rumor that Amanda had an unconventional celebrity stalker. Chase had finished eating, but invited them for dessert, fully prepared to plead his case to the judge and the DA. They joined him, giving him a brief and prudent once-over. They were sophisticated and well put together, the DA in a no-nonsense business suit straight out of the courtroom; the judge’s attire straight off the golf course. They spoke about philanthropy and baseball, and Chase asked permission to date their daughter.
“Mr. Walker,” Catherine Cole said in the same sassy tone Amanda used when addressing him by his formal name. What followed it was usually direct and pointed. And the same was true of her mother, even if she was impressed by his candor and manners. “My daughter is a grown woman, she makes her own decisions.”
“Of course, ma’am,” he said, laughing nervously. “But I was really hoping that I could get you to put in a good word.”
Judge Rupert Cole chuckled with humor from across the table. Chase had integrity and humility, traits that were hard to fake if insincere. “Just remember, I can get a restraining order against you at a moment’s notice.”
“She’s hasn’t called the police on me yet, sir.”
And when the verdict came in, they didn’t think Amanda was going to. She was just being cautious, as they agreed she had reason to be. It didn’t stop her parents from telling her they liked him.
CHAPTER 4
CHASE BECAME A permanent fixture at the Cold Creek. After the first week, word started to spread and there was a constant influx of people going there to dine in the hopes of seeing Chase Walker. And they weren’t disappointed. He had dozens of pictures taken and signed countless napkins and random scraps of paper. He even autographed a few body parts. All with one single purpose: trying to score a date with Amanda Cole. The bar stayed crowded the whole time he was there. He learned the names of all the employees and went out of his way to engage them. If he was faking the Average Joe routine, he was an exceptional actor. Two weeks in, it became apparent he wasn’t going to go away.
And it was impossible to deny: He was a wonderful flirt. He was also quick, intelligent, and confident, and every conversation ended with him asking her to join him somewhere, from Bora Bora to the coffee shop around the corner. He looked at her honestly when he did it, like he was soaking her in with his eyes.
Week three of Chase’s staged sit-in began with a snafu that ended up working in his favor. It started on a Wednesday night with a dozen long-stemmed roses surrounded by baby’s breath and arranged in a vase, delivered by the head of his security team. Blue roses, precisely dyed to match the color of Amanda’s eyes, arriving a half hour before he did¸ and a handwritten note that read:
Blue roses symbolize something that is impossible to achieve. Not in my vocabulary. I apologize for the next two hours.
It was vague and ambiguous, and he was already making apologies. The bodyguard, Jack, who often accompanied Chase, dropped them off with the same poker-faced expression he always wore and immediately left. Amanda didn’t bother trying to interrogate him. Jack took his job seriously, and they both knew who signed his paycheck. The note and flowers set her on edge. Unless Chase had planted some vermin and called the health inspector, what could he possibly be sorry for? As the vibrant flowers were admired by everyone who passed them, Amanda’s nerves stretched tighter, despite all her efforts to quell them. When Chase walked through the door, his message became as clear as the imported crystal the roses were presented in. She didn’t know whether to feel insulted or relieved. He gave her a quick, crooked smile while the three other members of his dining party entered after him.
“Well, what do we have here?” Eric snickered quietly from behind the roses at the end of the bar nearest to Amanda’s podium workstation, the only spot roomy enough to keep them from getting in the way. Amanda was suddenly bemused.
Chase Walker had brought a date to the Cold Creek, a date of the waiflike supermodel variety. She was long and lean and stood naturally on six-inch stilettos, making her nearly as tall as he was. Her skirt was a respectable length, but the sequined, belly-button-ringed-revealing tank top was the complete epitome of skimpy. Her skin was porcelain. She looked disinterested, if not snobbish, and in Amanda’s opinion, hungry, as did the other woman who was with them. The only
difference was Chase’s date had a mane of flaxen, stylish hair, while the other woman’s was more platinum highlighted. Their superfluous, wispy giggles were exactly the same.
Amanda kept her poise, smiling brightly as the four approached. He was free to bring whomever he wanted to dinner, but flaunting his desirability wasn’t how to earn brownie points with her.
“Good evening, Mr. Walker. I have your table ready.”
“Hi, Amanda,” he greeted her, only the slightest evidence of his discomfort betrayed by his hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar expression. “I’d like to introduce you to my good friend Logan Montgomery.”
The remaining person in their group stepped forward, hidden behind that first gust of charisma that accompanied Chase. Logan Montgomery was probably the most handsome man on the planet. He was dark and swarthy, with jet-black hair and expressive brown eyes. His skin was so tan it suggested he’d just returned from some exotic island. His face was classically chiseled and his physique nothing short of astounding. She couldn’t help but stare. His smile was easy as he joined them, but if she’d known him better, she would have noticed he was also suffering from his own faux pas.
Amanda also would have been able to tell by the quickly concealed, edgy glare Chase shot at him, but Logan had the sort of looks that when you saw them for the first time, you needed a moment to take them in. “Logan, this is Amanda Cole, the woman I obviously didn’t tell you enough about.”
“My pleasure, Amanda,” Logan drawled before returning Chase’s look with an amused one of his own. “Sometimes, when texting, one doesn’t get a full picture. For some reason, my host still insisted on dining here.”
Amanda didn’t see the need in letting the introductions continue. Clearly a miscommunication had taken place, and Chase had made his choice with regard to the situation. He apologized ahead of time, which was rather egotistical for someone she wouldn’t give her phone number to, yet incredibly romantic in a peculiar sort of way. And she didn’t want to know anything about either man’s date. Still, he had to have some reason for bringing a date here. Maybe it was a last-ditch effort to illustrate she was missing her opportunity, and Amanda was interested in seeing how the evening played out. She nodded a hello and, grabbing four menus, asked them to please follow her. As she led them to Chase’s regular booth, no mention was made of the glorious bouquet taking up one end of the bar, by either of them. The gentlemen motioned for the ladies to be seated on the inside, and as they slid in, Chase and Amanda’s gazes met and locked. A brief moment passed as Chase took her in, having not seen her for the last two days, Mondays and Tuesdays being the Cold Creek’s “weekend” and was closed. It was the look that he gave her when she was across the room, too far away for them to have a real conversation. The look that suggested he was deep in thought, hinting that some of those thoughts were indecent. Then he did what any gallant gentleman would do.
The Sweet Spot Page 3