The Long Shot

by A. L. Brooks

  “So how come you’re skipping Miami this year?” Jenny’s next question seemed innocent enough, but there was something in her eyes that told Morgan she knew all about Naomi.

  “Well, when we worked out the schedule for this year, we took into account what happened last year.” Jenny’s eyebrows shot up, but Morgan plunged on before her obvious question. “Playing Miami, then flying straight out to the UK to play both the Scottish and British Opens was all a bit much. I arrived at Sunningdale feeling pretty tired, and we’re sure that played a part in me not winning there.”

  If Jenny was disappointed in the work-related answer and not the lowdown on the Naomi incident, she hid it well, to her credit.

  “Oh, yeah, that totally makes sense. It’s a pretty heavy season for you all.”

  “It is. It’s always a juggling act, working out who to disappoint each year.”

  “Well, I’m disappointed I won’t get to hang out with you more in Miami,” Jenny said with a smile that suddenly went a step beyond friendly. “But maybe we could do this again in the UK?”

  “Sure,” Morgan said but alarm bells clamored in her mind. She ostentatiously looked at her watch. “Damn, sorry, I think I’d better go. I’ve got a couple of calls to make before I go to bed.”

  Jenny looked crestfallen for a moment, then rallied and smiled perkily. “Oh, of course!” She stood as Morgan did. “It was great talking with you.”

  “It was.” Morgan smiled in a way she hoped was warm without being too warm. “I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

  “Yes, you will.” Jenny’s smile promised an awful lot if Morgan wanted to go there.

  Doing her best not to be too obvious about it, she walked away as fast as she could.

  “Okay,” Adrienne said as she reached for her purse. “I’m off to have a quick meeting with Morgan. I suspect you might be gone by the time I get back, so have a good trip.”

  Jenny smiled from across the room where she was busy stuffing her carry-on with notebooks, pens, and her laptop. “Thanks, boss. And say hi to Morgan for me, will you?”

  There was a gleam in Jenny’s eyes that created a small knot of unpleasantness in Adrienne’s belly.

  “Oh, um, sure.” Adrienne watched as Jenny grinned and continued packing her bag. “Jenny,” she began, then stopped. How could she phrase this without sounding like she was accusing Jenny of something she’d already said she wouldn’t do? She had to trust Jenny, didn’t she, or what kind of message would that send?

  “Hm?” Jenny didn’t look up, distracted by the fact that her large bag of peanut butter M&Ms wouldn’t quite fit in the side pocket of her bag.

  Adrienne exhaled slowly. “Nothing. Call me tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She gave her assistant one long last look and did her best to quash her discomfort. God knew she had enough to be uncomfortable about without adding Jenny and any possible inappropriateness into the mix.

  The two days of not seeing Morgan had been good, just what she needed to sort through the maelstrom of emotions, fears, and worries their heart-to-heart had created. That Morgan had respected her need for some distance only made her admire her more, and she’d had to accept that Morgan’s age meant nothing as far as her maturity went. In fact, in thinking things over, she’d come to realize that immediately judging Morgan for her relatively young age was probably just as bad as someone else judging her for her older age. Adrienne hated it when she was on the receiving end of it, so why had she thought it was okay to do the same to Morgan?

  Because it was an easy excuse to use. Yes, albeit with some merit—we are, after all, from an entirely different generation. But using Morgan’s age to immediately discount her, despite how strongly Adrienne was attracted to her—and vice versa—was a coward’s way out.

  And Adrienne Wyatt had never been a coward.

  As she exited the elevator in the hotel lobby, she inhaled a couple of deep breaths. Now composed, she walked around the corner to the bar. Morgan wasn’t yet there, so Adrienne took a table and ordered a pot of coffee from the waitress.

  “Hi, Adrienne.”

  She looked up, expecting to see Morgan even as her brain registered the voice wasn’t quite right.

  “Cindy,” Adrienne managed to reply, her entire being automatically going into a high state of alert. What the hell did Cindy Thomson want?

  “Waiting for someone?” Cindy motioned to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

  “Um, yes, actually.”

  “Oh, well, I won’t keep you. I just want to hear how the filming’s going.”

  Cindy looked and sounded pleasant enough, but there was an overly bright glint in her eyes that said something different and a hint of…triumph in her tone?

  “It’s going well, thank you.”

  “Excellent. I’m still available for all the voiceover slots, you know.”

  Over my dead body.

  “Thanks, but we already have Annika lined up for that.” You know, a real golfer. “But surely you must be busy enough with the Golf Channel?”

  That seemed to take some of the glimmer out of her gaze. “Oh, of course. I just thought you might need a favor, given how difficult things had been.”

  “Difficult?”

  Now Cindy’s smile turned feral. “Oh, yes, with Morgan Spencer. Such a diva,” she whispered conspiratorially. “I’m surprised you haven’t walked away already.”

  Flummoxed, Adrienne used all her experience of working in the industry to affect a casual air. “Oh, I think you’re misinformed. Morgan’s a joy to work with.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Cindy leaned forward and patted Adrienne’s shoulder, and it took all her strength not to flinch. She noticed Cindy’s way-too-perfect hair didn’t move one strand as she chuckled nastily, her shoulders jiggling. Was it spray-painted on?

  “Well,” Cindy continued, “actually, yes, I imagine you two would work well together, all things considered.”

  What the—?

  “Cindy, I—” Adrienne attempted to rise from her seat.

  “Oh, gosh, is that the time? I need to get going. Ciao.”

  She threw Adrienne a vicious grin, and then she was gone before Adrienne could wrestle her to the ground and beat the answer out of her. Just what the hell had she meant by all that?

  “What did she want?” Morgan asked a few moments later as she approached the table, deep suspicion in her tone.

  “I have no idea,” Adrienne said tightly. The exchange had rattled her, and that annoyed her.

  Morgan sat down and smiled at her, which helped. A lot.

  “Sorry.” Adrienne exhaled loudly. “She just… God, I don’t even know how to explain it. I think she was accusing me of something, but if it’s what I think it is, how could she know?”

  “Huh?”

  Morgan looked so confused, her forehead scrunched into a deep frown, that Adrienne couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

  “God, sorry, ignore me! I’m probably imagining it.”

  “Okayyy.”

  Adrienne sighed and leaned forward. They’d said they’d be honest, so… “I think she was obliquely accusing me of having some involvement with you that isn’t entirely work related.”

  Morgan’s eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath. “Seriously?”

  Adrienne nodded and reached across the table for the coffee pot, then poured them each a cup, relieved her hands didn’t shake.

  “But how could she know?”

  Adrienne smiled wanly. “I don’t know. And it’s not like there’s a lot to know.”

  Morgan grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. There was one rather heated moment in an elevator, I seem to recall,” she said quietly.

  Adrienne’s face warmed, and she shook her head. “Stop that.”

  Morgan laughed as
she picked up her coffee. “Can’t. Won’t,” she said, before taking a sip.

  There was a new confidence in her that was deeply attractive and had Adrienne in need of a fan.

  “You seem…different,” she said eventually.

  Now it was Morgan’s turn to blush. “Maybe I am. A little.”

  Adrienne bit at her bottom lip. She needed to steer this back to easier ground. “You had a good last couple of rounds. Are you happy with how it went? I know it’s another major gone by, but…”

  “No, I’m good. I screwed up in the first round, and I probably wasn’t ever going to get back from that. But I am pleased with what I did this weekend. And now, with a week off, I think I’m going to go to Britain in much better shape than I did last year.”

  “I’m pleased for you, then. That’s good.”

  “Thank you.” Morgan sipped a couple of times from her coffee, then set the cup down. “So, um, how are you?”

  “I’m…good.”

  Adrienne’s gaze wandered over Morgan’s features. She hadn’t realized until now just how much she’d missed seeing her and being able to soak up her beauty. Especially since the tender moments they’d shared the last time they’d been together. And remembering that jogged her into action. “Listen, I have been doing that thinking I promised.”

  “You have?” Morgan sounded nervous.

  Adrienne nodded and smiled, trying to infuse it with as much warmth as possible. “I have. And I… Well, I have decided that perhaps you, and Charlie, are possibly correct.”

  Morgan’s mouth quirked up at one side, and her eyes crinkled. “‘Possibly correct’?” she mimicked.

  Rolling her eyes, Adrienne leaned forward. “Yes.” She nodded slowly. “There might be something here,” she said. She gestured between them and chuckled when Morgan snorted. “And it possibly is something we should pursue.” As Morgan’s face lit up, Adrienne held up a hand. “But not until after we’ve finished the project.”

  Morgan slumped back in her chair, but she smiled. “I guess that’s as good as I could have hoped if I’m honest. And I completely understand.”

  “You sure? I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on, or—”

  “Adrienne, no, I don’t think that at all.”

  God, the way she says my name…

  “Okay,” Adrienne croaked.

  Morgan leaned forward again, her gaze intent. “But please don’t tell me I can’t spend time with you. I want to get to know you, to hear about your life, your dreams, your world.” She fiddled with her coffee cup. “I’m not very good at talking about feelings and all that, and I don’t want to sound like some sappy movie, but when I’m around you, I like how I feel. And I want to keep that feeling.”

  Oh God, she’s going to break my heart, isn’t she? Adrienne shook off the thought. Come on, don’t be a pessimist.

  “Actually, I think you’re very good at talking about your feelings if that’s anything to go by.” Her voice was husky. “And no, I won’t tell you not to spend time with me because then I’d be depriving myself of something I want too. Very much.”

  Morgan’s smile lifted her worried features in an instant, and there it was, that shining beauty, dazzling Adrienne with its luster.

  “Well, then that’s good,” Morgan said softly. “So I was doing some thinking too. How would you like to do that interview in my home this week? I’m feeling pretty relaxed, and I have a few days, so…”

  “I would like that very much. And not just because it fits my documentary.” Adrienne smiled shyly. “I’d be honored to see your home and learn some more about you in a place where you feel so comfortable.”

  Morgan nodded slowly. “Okay, then let’s set it up.” She grinned. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

  Adrienne’s laugh was rich and long.

  Chapter 15

  Renata glared at Morgan from across the kitchen. “Miss Morgan, stop watching me. You are making me nervous. You are like a hawk.”

  Morgan startled and focused on Renata’s worried face. “God, sorry! I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

  Renata chuckled and shook her head. “You don’t usually get nervous about my cleaning. What is going on?”

  Renata’s familiarity wasn’t overstepping. Morgan had been very clear from the start of their arrangement that Renata was not a servant. Over the last couple of years, she’d come to think of Renata as a kindly aunt, always looking out for Morgan. And clearly her aunt-like instincts were in full flow.

  Morgan groaned and swept her hands through her hair. “Someone special is coming to visit.”

  “Special?” Renata’s eyebrows rose, and her eyes widened. “A special lady, perhaps?”

  Face hot, Morgan nodded.

  Renata grinned and shook her finger at Morgan. “Why did you keep this a secret?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Didn’t want to jinx it?”

  “Hah!” Renata chuckled. “I am the superstitious one, remember?”

  Morgan laughed. Oh yes, Renata had a multitude of superstitions, every one of which, as far as Morgan could recall, she’d managed to break, much to Renata’s horror.

  “Maybe you’re finally rubbing off on me.” Morgan smiled.

  Renata laughed out loud and, to Morgan’s relief, returned to wiping down the polished breakfast bar. “Don’t worry, Miss Morgan, I will have the house sparkling from top to bottom.”

  “Thank you, Renata.” Morgan walked round the breakfast bar and gave Renata a quick hug. “You’re the best.”

  “Oh, shush,” Renata said, but her blush and her bright eyes told Morgan she appreciated the gesture and words more than she would let on.

  Deciding she really should leave Renata to do her job, Morgan left the kitchen and strode down the hallway to the workout room. Since she was a bag of nerves, she knew a run on the treadmill would help. Within minutes, she had changed and paced easily on the machine, the Black Eyed Peas pounding from the room’s inbuilt music system.

  Despite her best efforts, her mind insisted on drifting to the next day, when Adrienne would be here in the house. She would bring a local crew, with Jenny, Toby, and Diane off in Miami, but had promised to keep their time in Morgan’s private space to a minimum. Morgan wanted more time with Adrienne, not less, and wondered how she could convince the beautiful TV producer to stay for dinner in the evening.

  Well, I guess I just need to ask her, she thought wryly.

  Charlie’s words came back to her, and she wondered just how hard she’d have to try to woo Adrienne into spending that time together. She also needed to make a final decision on what to cook if Adrienne did decide to stay. Morgan didn’t get much time at home to cook, but she enjoyed it when she did, and she’d been complimented on her skills over the years. It would be nice to do that for Adrienne, given what she’d said about eating out on the road all the time.

  Okay, so in that case, something light… Her mind started whirring. A big smile plastered itself across her face as she pounded the treadmill and worked her way through the many options in her culinary repertoire to present the tastiest yet healthiest menu to her guest. Here’s hoping she says yes; otherwise, I’ll be eating all that lovely food alone.

  Adrienne didn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed that she had two other people with her as the cab dropped them off outside Morgan’s home at a little after 3:00 p.m. on Wednesday. Late last night, when she hadn’t been able to sleep for thinking about Morgan, she’d seriously considered calling the whole thing off. Only the realization that she’d have to explain the cost of the crew with no film to back it up had stopped her from picking up the phone; cancelling that late in the day, she would have had to pay for everything regardless.

  So we’ll just get in and get out. Quick and easy. Two hours tops.

  And all the while two chaperones making sure Adrienne didn’t give in
to her increasingly swoon-worthy fantasies of throwing herself into Morgan’s arms and letting their mutual desire run away with itself.

  This is ridiculous.

  She’d never been so…giddy. You’re going to be fifty next birthday. Get a hold of yourself.

  But she couldn’t. Thoughts of Morgan filled her mind constantly. Had she ever been so enamored of Paula? Surely she had in the early days. Hadn’t she? She racked her brain for the memories, but they wouldn’t come, overshadowed by everything that had happened since. Unwittingly, an image of Paula and her much younger lover crept into Adrienne’s mind, and she swallowed hard. You’ll be just like Paula if you follow through with this. People will point and laugh and ridicule you.

  Yes, but Tricia said Paula’s doing okay with it, so why can’t you?

  Only just stifling a groan, she climbed out of the cab and shut the door behind her. As the crew—Tina on camera and Cheri on sound—lifted their gear from the trunk, Adrienne gazed up at the house before them. It wasn’t huge, not by the standards of the area they’d just driven through, but it seemed exactly the sort of house Morgan would choose to live in. Not too fussy, no grand entrance, yet full of character.

  “Wow, nice place!” Tina whistled.

  Adrienne smiled, then led her two charges to the front door. It swung open as they approached.

  “Hey,” Morgan said cheerily from just inside the door, but Adrienne could already tell she was nervous, as her voice was a little too high pitched.

  It’ll be okay, sweetheart, she wanted to say, and the mental term of endearment nearly made her blush.

  Remembering at the very last moment to keep her professionalism, Adrienne held back from a hug in greeting and instead held out her hand.

  Morgan’s quirked eyebrow hinted at her amusement, but she played along, and shook Adrienne’s hand firmly.

  “Nice to see you again,” she said, and Adrienne had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

  Turning to the two women behind her—both chosen because she thought Morgan would feel much more comfortable with women invading her space rather than men—she made the introductions. Morgan motioned them into the house.