Players

by Rachel Cross

  If only she weren’t terrified.

  Her hands shook slightly as she wound her hair up into a tight bun and pinned it in place. It was like being sixteen again and going to a school dance. What if no one danced with her? What if the other girls exchanged knowing looks and giggled as she walked past? One could only keep one’s chin up and shoulders back for so long before feeling a panicky need to flee.

  She was being ridiculous, she told herself firmly. She was not sixteen anymore, and this was a charity benefit, not the prom. People would be there tonight to support a good cause, not reestablish social strata.

  Besides, it was too late to come up with a good excuse not to go. She heard the sound of tires on gravel and knew Clarissa and her husband were here.

  Funny, but she found herself wishing Michael was coming tonight. It would have been comforting somehow. Her hand hovered over her cell phone momentarily as she felt a fleeting urge to call and invite him. Then she came to her senses and scooped up her phone and keys to drop them into her purse. They were partners, she reminded herself. Not friends.

  “Wish me luck,” she said to Bo with more cheer than she felt. He wagged his tail and licked her hand before leaping onto her bed and snuggling down into the comforter. “And no wild parties while I’m gone, young man, you hear?”

  He started to snore softly.

  When Shannon stepped out onto the porch, Clarissa gave her a quick hug. “Shannon, you remember Jeff, right?”

  “Yes, of course,” Shannon said politely to the middle-aged man fiddling with his tie as he stood beside his wife. “Christmas party, right?”

  “Yep. I was Santa.” He patted his generous stomach unselfconsciously and grinned. “Can’t imagine why, huh?”

  “Dear,” Clarissa said to Shannon, “you look lovely, but there’s something I just have to do. Please forgive me.”

  “What do you—hey!” Shannon’s mouth fell open as the older woman abruptly pulled the hairpins from Shannon’s hair and sent it tumbling down around her shoulders.

  “There. Much better,” Clarissa said smugly, carefully arranging fiery orange waves.

  “What are you doing?” She tried to wind her hair back up again, but Clarissa stubbornly refused to hand over the hairpins and instead stuffed them into her purse.

  “Honey, so help me, if you try to put that beautiful hair of yours back into a bun or a braid or even a ponytail, you’ll be riding to town in the trunk of the car instead of the back seat. Leave it down, trust me.”

  “I can’t wear it down! Someone’s liable to throw water on me because they think my head’s on fire. Seriously, Clarissa—”

  Her friend gently took Shannon’s hands in hers. “Shannon, I don’t know when or why you ever decided your hair was unsightly somehow, but it’s not. It’s full of vibrancy and color, and you shouldn’t try to hide it from the rest of the world.”

  To her shock, Shannon’s eyes were suddenly wet. How could a few kind words be enough to make her cry? Especially after a childhood full of unkind ones should have hardened her long ago. “I’m sorry,” she said with a shaky laugh as she quickly wiped her eyes. “This is silly. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m having flashbacks to school days, I guess. Don’t mind me.” Carrot-top was one of the gentler things kids had said about her then.

  Clarissa cupped her cheek for a moment and then gave her another hug. “Come on. Let’s go before all the good parking spots are gone and we have to walk five miles to even see the park. And I mean it, leave the hair down or I will have Jeff lock you in the car. He does what I tell him to, you know.”

  “It’s true,” Jeff agreed, frowning at an ink stain on his tie and wiping at it uselessly. Shannon laughed weakly but obediently left her hair alone as she followed them to their car.

  • • •

  Michael turned off the television after going through all the channels without really seeing any of them. He crossed the tiny motel room for about the tenth time in the last twenty minutes and stared out the window at his so-called view, restless as a caged animal. He could always take a drive into town and play a game of pool, maybe pick up a pretty girl and make a night of it . . .

  But somehow that held about as little interest for him as the television. He pulled the orange flyer he’d picked up from an earlier errand from his back pocket and read it again. Shannon was right; these things were like traffic cones. How had he ever missed them? Because he’d had too many other things on his mind, he supposed.

  He glanced over the events listed on the flyer, considering his options. Well, he did like chili, after all. There would be music, dancing, and lots of folks having a good time. What’s not to like? he thought. Maybe he would even get a chance to see how Shannon was doing with the “homework” he’d given her. See if she was having a good time with some new guy.

  Just as long as she wasn’t having too much fun. He pictured her clinging a little too closely to a man on the dance floor, and it made him frown.

  It shouldn’t bother him. It was her business after all, and even though she was inexperienced, she was hardly a child. Then again, he reminded himself, there were some guys out there who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of her naiveté around men. It was a mentor’s job to look out for his protégé, wasn’t it? He owed it to her to make sure she was okay. It was the ethical and responsible thing to do.

  Oh, yes, and his brother would be there. He had almost forgotten that. Maybe he would run into him, too.

  All right then, it looked like he was going out. Peeling off his t-shirt, Michael headed for the shower to make himself presentable for polite society.

  • • •

  It was a good turnout, Shannon thought, keeping a careful distance between her white dress and anyone carrying a bowl of chili. Between the food and the bachelor auction, it seemed likely they’d raise a respectable sum of money tonight for charity. She left Clarissa and Jeff to dance with each other on the temporary dance floor that had been set up near the band, smiling at the sight of the stout middle-aged man dipping his wife with surprising grace.

  Congratulating herself on her decision to wear the comfortable sandals tonight, she walked across the grass and through the crowd of jovial attendees. Her first instinct was to hide out off to the side somewhere, preferably in the shadows, but she forced herself to get out in the thick of things, nodding and smiling at people she passed.

  It seemed so easy for everybody else. Why was it so hard for her? She was probably overthinking it, she decided, self-consciously tucking a wayward lock of hair behind one ear. She should be casual and natural, just go with the flow and see where it took her.

  There, for example. Right by the edge of the stage where the bachelor auction would be starting soon. A man in a blue blazer and khaki pants stood by himself, scanning the crowd with his eyes and sipping something from a paper cup. He looked non-threatening and reasonably attractive, too. Why not just strike up a conversation with him?

  “Hi,” she greeted him cheerfully, coming to a stop near him. “Having a good time?”

  “What? Oh, sure,” he said, obviously distracted and not really seeing her. “Listen, do you know where the restrooms are around here? That chili packed a real punch, and I gotta hit the head in a real bad way, if you know what I mean.”

  Taken slightly aback, she pointed the way for him and he left, taking long, desperate strides.

  Not exactly what she expected, but at least she had made the effort. She heard the sound of someone tapping on a microphone then, and looked up to see the evening’s MC, a silver-haired radio personality, take center stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you all for coming out tonight to support some real worthwhile foundations in our fair city. The evening’s main event is about to begin, so ladies, grab your checkbooks and get ready to start some bidding wars. Could I have all of the bachelors backstage now, please?”

  As a crowd began to gather in front of the stage, Shannon glanced to the side and spotted Drew. He wa
s heading for the stage as directed, and on his arm was a woman who she presumed must be Lana. She was tall and willowy, dark-haired, and impeccably dressed. She also, Shannon noticed, had absolutely no trouble walking in high heels. Laughing at something Drew said, she turned his face toward hers with long and flawlessly manicured nails and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. It felt a bit like watching a traffic accident. She wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t, not even when Drew looked over and spotted her.

  In her head, she thought a very bad word. Outwardly, she smiled brightly and waved.

  To her dismay, he led his date over to her and made introductions. “Shannon, glad you could come out tonight. Lana Akers, this is Shannon Mahoney, my assistant. Shannon, this is Lana.”

  She kept her smile plastered onto her face. “Very nice to meet you.”

  “You, too,” Lana returned, smiling politely but indifferently.

  Neither woman extended her hand, but Drew didn’t seem to notice. “Well, I’d better get backstage. Wish me luck.”

  “You don’t need luck,” Lana told him with a coquettish wink, and Shannon tried not to roll her eyes. “You’ve got me. I promise you won’t get stuck with any nightmarish bidders, okay? Now, go on before they bump you from the list.”

  He waved goodbye and disappeared somewhere behind the stage, leaving the two women alone together.

  There was no help for it. She was going to have to make polite conversation with the woman. “So,” Shannon began, “what do you do for a living, Lana?”

  “What? Oh, I do financial advising. Stocks, annuities, portfolios . . . I’m sure you’d find it all a bit dry,” she answered absently, her eyes busy searching the crowd.

  Translation: I’m not smart enough to understand it. And yet phrased with barely a hint of condescension. Ms. Akers was very good at this. “And where did you meet Drew?”

  “At the country club. We’re both members. I don’t think I’ve seen you there, have I?” Without waiting for a response, Lana put a hand up suddenly and signaled someone else in the crowd. “Elizabeth! Over here!”

  A shapely blonde who was every bit Lana’s equal in style and stature made her way over to them. “Lana! I should have known you’d be up front.”

  “Absolutely. Drew’s going home with me tonight, and I’m not taking any chances otherwise. Oh, Elizabeth, this is Drew’s assistant—I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

  “Shannon.” It was not that hard a name to remember.

  “Right. Would you excuse me for just a second, Elizabeth?” Lana bent her head so that she could lean closer to Shannon’s ear. “Let’s be very clear with each other, all right, Shannon? I’m a very aggressive woman, and when I see something I want, I go after it until it’s mine.”

  Shannon drew back and frowned at her. “Your point being?”

  “Drew. I know when another woman wants the man I want. Drew may not realize it, but I do. If you think you have the advantage because you work for him, don’t kid yourself. You’re out of your league here.”

  Speechless, Shannon could only stare at her as heat flooded her cheeks.

  “So don’t even think about making a play for him, because you will only wind up embarrassing yourself.” Lana straightened and turned back to Elizabeth, effectively dismissing Shannon. “I think we understand each other.”

  • • •

  From atop a grassy knoll in the park, Michael spotted Shannon standing near the stage. The crowd was too noisy for him to hear the MC very well, but he caught enough of his announcements to understand the bachelor auction was about to get underway. He should have known he would find Shannon near wherever Drew was going to be.

  It was her hair that caught his attention first, even in the dwindling twilight. Finally free of any fetters, it fell over her shoulders like cascading fire, and the effect of it made his pulse quicken unexpectedly. She stood out from the rest of the crowd like a brilliant jewel in a pile of ordinary rubble, and the wonder of all wonders was how the people standing around her didn’t seem to see it.

  He saw a dark-haired woman lean in to say something to Shannon, and then watched as Shannon’s face burned with embarrassment. His jaw twitched, and he frowned.

  Girls can be catty. Wasn’t that what she had said before?

  The brunette turned her back on Shannon, as if she were second-hand news, leaving Shannon to try and recover from the obvious snub.

  Oh, hell no, he thought. Not on his watch.

  And Michael began to push his way through the sea of people.

  • • •

  It was like high school all over again. Shannon struggled to think of something to say, something clever or biting, but her mind drew an absolute blank. The shock of having her feelings exposed aloud and then essentially stomped beneath the stylish heel of a rival who clearly found her to be no threat at all left her feeling dizzy and shaken.

  The MC was saying something, and the crowd was starting to cheer, but Shannon didn’t hear much of anything except for a roaring sound in her ears.

  Part of her wanted to slink away and hide. Another part of her wanted to tap Lana Akers on the shoulder and then deck her.

  Before she could recover enough to come up with a third and more socially acceptable option, the crowd nearby parted to let someone pass, and her eyes widened at the sight of Michael appearing suddenly a few yards in front of her. His black t-shirt and jeans were nothing fancy, but somehow on him they made every other man within a ten-mile radius seem underdressed, and most of the women who had gathered around for the auction stared at him instead of at the stage.

  “Please tell me we can bid on him,” someone murmured appreciatively from nearby.

  A heart-stopping smile made his perfect mouth curve slowly upward, and his eyes never left Shannon’s as he made his way between a stunned Lana and Elizabeth to reach her. “Hello, sweetheart,” he said in a voice that could have melted chocolate, completely ignoring the other women. He twined her fingers in his for a moment and then slid his hands up her arms to cup her face, sending a jolt of unexpected fire through her body. “Sorry I’m late. Parking was insane.”

  And then he pulled her in closer to put those sinful lips of his on hers.

  Chapter Seven

  Shannon stiffened in shock, but her shock slowly melted into something else. Or maybe she melted into Michael. All she really knew was that his hands found their way to her hips, which made it feel like the most natural thing in the world to let her arms slide up over his shoulders and around his neck in return.

  His hands tightened gently around her waist, pulling her closer to him, and she went very willingly. Dear God, he was good at this. Granted, she didn’t have much to compare it with, but surely most men weren’t able to do the things he was able to with just his mouth. It couldn’t be natural for a man to fill a woman with fire like this within the space of about three seconds.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled the knowing looks girls in school had exchanged when they talked about Michael Kingston. Now she understood what it was all about.

  The sounds of the auction slowly brought her back to awareness, and she rather dazedly separated her lips from his.

  “So, anyway, that’s why I’m late,” Michael said easily, as if such kisses happened all the time. Maybe they did for him. Heedless of who might be watching, he traced her mouth with his finger and smiled that wicked smile of his. “Promise I’ll make it up to you later, though.”

  Her heart pounded. Oh, yes. He was very good at this.

  She didn’t dare look him in the eye for fear he would see just how out of her element she really felt at that moment. To her embarrassment, her knees were unsteady and about to give out. She willed them to stiffen and turned her eyes away from Michael’s face to look over his shoulder. That was when she saw Lana’s jaw practically on the ground.

  And, right or wrong, that gave her a delicious feeling of satisfaction.

  He had seen it, she realized suddenly.
The snub. And he had kissed her to help her stick it to Lana. It was wrong of her to be pleased by that, she was sure, but she couldn’t bring herself to be sorry just yet. Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe in fifty years.

  “Checking out my competition?” Michael gave a quick nod in the direction of the stage. “Not thinking of replacing me, I hope?”

  She finally found her voice, but it wavered slightly as she tried to form a coherent response. “Uh, no. No, of course not.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” He put an arm around her shoulders, a sideways embrace that felt warm and natural. “If it’s all the same to you, though, I’d like to remove you from temptation’s path. Why don’t you say good night to your friends and let me take you home?”

  “What? Oh. Good night, Lana.” She started to turn away and then froze as she realized Drew was the bachelor up for auction onstage, and his attention was most definitely on the two of them.

  Shannon felt sudden tension in Michael’s arm and knew he had just realized it, too. His brother wore a poorly disguised look of shock on his face, and were it not for the fact he was in a very public place, Shannon had a feeling he had a few choice words to say to Michael.

  Well, she wanted to get his attention. It looked like she succeeded. She had mixed feelings about that.

  “Sold! To the lovely lady in red. You can pay for your bachelor at that table to the left of the stage, ma’am. Our next bachelor . . . ”

  Beside them, Lana did a double take as she realized she had missed the bidding on Drew. A gleeful gray-haired socialite blew him a kiss instead as she made her way up to the table to write out a check. Had her mouth not suddenly gone dry when she realized Drew had witnessed her kiss his brother, Shannon might have enjoyed the look on Lana’s face a little more. As it was, she felt like squirming under his gaze.

  “Let’s get out of here before he comes down from that stage,” Michael murmured into her ear, and she willingly let him lead her away through the crowd, wondering what on earth she was going to say when she saw Drew the next morning.