Hot Stuff

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Hot Stuff Page 5

by Carly Phillips


  Annabelle liked Joanne's outgoing personality immediately. "Light coffee, Grande, Boris and Brandon Vaughn. In that order."

  Joanne shook her head, her brown eyes sparkling with laughter. "You do like things big and strong."

  Annabelle wasn't touching that comment but she couldn't suppress a grin.

  With a wink, Joanne turned and poured a large cup of coffee with a touch of regular milk, then slid the cup across the counter.

  Annabelle took a minute to inhale the fresh aroma before taking a sip. "Mmm. You make a good Java."

  "Thank you. So tell me how you know Vaughn."

  "We go way back," Annabelle said, keeping her cover story in mind.

  "Do tell." Joanne propped her head in her hands as she leaned across the counter. "Vaughn and I go way back, too. High school."

  "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" Annabelle asked, too eager for information on the man.

  "Yep, but don't remind my husband. The only way those men can coexist in this town is to ignore the past."

  Annabelle rolled her eyes. "Men and their egos. I understand only too well," she said thinking of her many clients ruled by their pride and nothing else. She sensed there might be more to Vaughn, but without proof, she was afraid she was running on pure hope. "Prom King and Queen?" she asked only half joking.

  "Naah. We didn't last until June. A short fling and Vaughn was ready to move on. Good thing for me since I hooked up with Teddy. He's my husband.” Joanne's voice melted with warmth at the mention of his name.

  Envy for the relationship she'd never have swelled in Annabelle's chest. Joanne obviously didn't hold any grudges or have any long unrequited feelings for Vaughn.

  "Vaughn's not exactly the relationship type, is he?"

  Joanne shook her head. "Since high school he's stuck to the same M.O. with women. Love ‘em and leave 'em. It's sad for him since he's such a great guy and doesn't know what he's missing. Instead he puts all his free time into either the lodge or the high school kids he volunteers with."

  Annabelle's PR brain immediately picked up on information that would help her use his reputation to further the lodge's image. "I'd love to hear more."

  "Vaughn really gives of himself to the kids in this town."

  So that altruistic streak went deeper than Annabelle had originally thought. Inside she warmed at the possibility that Vaughn was really more than pure ego. "He's so stubbornly silent, I know practically nothing about his life," she told Joanne, in a not so subtle attempt to pump the other woman for information.

  Joanne shot her a sympathetic glance. "I hear you.

  I don't think even Nick knows what goes on in Vaughn's head and he's his best friend."

  "Speaking of Nick, I was wondering about his relationship with Vaughn. They seem close."

  "As brothers," Joanne said, nodding. "They watch each other's back. On the field in high school and in every other way you can imagine now."

  "No jealousy?"

  Joanne burst out laughing. "Aside from basic male one-upmanship, no way. You see, Nick's house was Vaughn's escape from parental pressure growing up. Nick's folks were like surrogate parents for Vaughn. Everyone in town knows Vaughn's mom and dad are elitist snobs."

  "And Nick never cared that Vaughn's career was just that much bigger than his?" she asked.

  "Not that he lets on." Joanne swiped the counter with a damp rag. "Look, it's fact that Vaughn's just pure magic, a legend in his own right. Nick's come to terms with it. It's not like he hasn't had his own great career and all."

  Annabelle digested the information and knew Joanne spoke from the heart or at least told it the way she saw it. Still Annabelle wondered if Nick had truly made peace with coming in second to Vaughn in all things, or if he nurtured a grudge deep inside.

  "That's good to know," she said to Joanne, not divulging her doubts.

  "Why do you ask?"

  Before Annabelle could reply, a group of workmen strode into the store, giving her a reprieve from having to explain her motives.

  Joanne sighed. "I'm sorry. But if you're in town and want to talk more when I'm not working?"

  Annabelle nodded. "I'd love that," she said, meaning it. With her sisters in the city and Vaughn not exactly a talkative housemate, she knew she'd need to hear a friendly voice every now and then.

  The men filed in behind her and Annabelle shifted Boris in one arm and held her coffee in the other as she dug in her purse for money.

  Joanne waved a hand. "Friendship's my price for a cup of coffee," the other woman said, treating Annabelle to a brief smile before turning her attention to the new group of customers.

  "Thanks."

  "Hey, pretty lady," one of the men said to Annabelle. "I get off work at five. You free?"

  Annabelle glanced down at her sweats and knew her face held not a trace of makeup. She decided either the town had no single women left or he was blind. "No, thanks," she said.

  He stepped closer. "Come on. I can show you a good time," he said, deliberately bumping his hip against hers.

  "So can Vaughn," Joanne piped in. "And if he catches you horning in on his territory, you'll be out a job and probably a couple of ribs. Go back to your wife, Roy." Joanne chuckled. She obviously knew the man well.

  He grumbled and the men behind him snickered, offering a few choice comments at his stupidity.

  Roy cast Annabelle a sheepish look. "Why didn't you say you was with Vaughn?" he said, his voice filled with awe and respect. "I'd never move in on his woman."

  "I'm not-"

  Joanne made a slicing motion across her throat, indicating Annabelle should shut up while she was free of Roy's advances.

  Joanne poured the men's coffee without them putting in a request and Annabelle guessed they were regulars. All the while, Joanne continued to talk. "Roy's got his faults, but we put up with him because he's got his good points. He's an excellent father and he respects Vaughn."

  "Everyone likes Vaughn," Roy said, ignoring Joanne's other comment.

  Murmurs of assent grew around him. Vaughn was obviously a popular town legend.

  "He's brought employment to town and he's helping my kid stick with school so's he can get his football scholarship and do better than his old man."

  Annabelle was grateful for the insight into Vaughn through the townsfolk's eyes. They perceived her client not just as a businessman but as a human being. So far, he rated top notch. All boded well for the lodge.

  "Well don't you worry, Roy. Your mistake will stay just between us," Annabelle promised him.

  Annabelle placed Boris back on the ground and he took off at a run for the grass across the way. She couldn't stop thinking of Joanne, Roy, and the other men who admired Vaughn, all with good reason. Despite his reputation as a womanizer, she had to admit, she was beginning to admire him, too.

  AS ANNABELLE RETURNED to Vaughn's house, Boris finally decided he'd found the appropriate spot and squatted to pee on Vaughn's front lawn.

  Of course her host chose that exact moment to step outside.

  He wore black nylon sweats and a gray shirt, ripped at the sleeves. He hadn't shaved and he was still sexy as hell.

  "Couldn't you take him somewhere else?" Vaughn asked as he strode down the front steps.

  Annabelle forced a bored shrugged. "Boris picks his own time and place. Don't all men?"

  Vaughn's gaze fell to the dog who'd started to kick up the grass on the lawn with his hind legs. Annabelle tried not to groan.

  "That brings up another interesting question.

  Aren't male dogs supposed to lift their legs to mark their territory?" Vaughn asked.

  "Maybe he doesn't consider your home his territory. You certainly don't act like you want him here."

  "I don't. But don't try to convince me he's smart enough to squat here because of it." Vaughn laughed then, the sound taking her off guard.

  "Would you believe that when Boris was at the shelter with other male dogs, he did lift his leg. Go figure. I guess there are
times he wants to be one of the boys." She shook her head, still shocked at the dog's actions.

  "Locker room behavior," Vaughn said. "Now that I can relate to." He leaned down and patted Boris on the head, harder than Annabelle would have liked but she wasn't about to interrupt the unexpected, bonding moment.

  His hand was large compared to her mutt's smaller head and the contradiction, added to Vaughn's attempt to make nice to the animal, showed a completely different side to the man. One she knew he hadn't intended to reveal. And one he wouldn't want her to see any more than she wanted to like him. But she did.

  Without warning, he paused, his hand midair and glanced up at her. Her gaze locked with his. She wanted to thank him for the glimpse into his soul because that's exactly what she thought she'd just seen.

  "Brandon!" a shrill voice said, shattering the beautiful morning silence and destroying their moment.

  He rose to his feet, squaring his broad shoulders, stepping away from her and withdrawing. Annabelle felt as if she could see the walls being erected around him with each movement, and wondered what had caused such an abrupt change.

  "Hello, Estelle," he said, his expression hard and unyielding. The ex-jock who took no crap from anyone had returned.

  Annabelle narrowed her gaze, curious as to who this woman was, and why she had the ability to turn off anything soft inside Brandon Vaughn.

  “That's no way to refer to your mother, especially in front of strangers," the woman said, answering Annabelle's silent question.

  Annabelle stared at the immaculate woman in the pants suit. Her slacks were pressed, her heels high, and her sweater jacket screamed St. John's, a high-end designer. Annabelle ought to know, since she and Sophie often wore the suits to work. She'd never have pegged the elegantly dressed female as Vaughn's mother. She was too pristine looking, too uptight, too severe. At a glance it became obvious that mother and son had no more in common inside than out.

  Annabelle wondered why Brandon would turn to ice around his mother and she was dying to find out. Since being orphaned, studying other people's families had become her favorite pastime. Watching and figuring out what kind of parental relationship people forged was practically an obsession.

  When Vaughn remained silent, his mother stepped forward. "I see your manners haven't improved. Since you aren't you going to introduce me, I'll do it myself. I'm Estelle Vaughn, Brandon's mother," she said to Annabelle. "And who may I ask, are you?"

  "She's an old college friend and she's visiting for a few days," Vaughn said, obviously resigned to the introduction. "Annabelle Jordan, meet my mother."

  "It's a pleasure." Annabelle wrapped Boris's leash tighter around her hand to prevent him from jumping on the perfect-looking woman.

  "I wish I'd known you were bringing company," Estelle chided her son as if he were a child.

  But there was nothing childlike about Vaughn anymore and he bristled at his mother's tone. "Why? So you could bake a cake?"

  Annabelle winced as did Estelle. Any mother would want to be spoken to with respect yet Vaughn had denied Estelle the basic courtesy. Annabelle couldn't understand. How many times had she wished her mother had lived so that they could bond, or fight and makeup again? Yet Vaughn had two living parents that he easily dismissed. Didn't the man understand the importance of family?

  "Oh I know. You'd have thrown one of your infamous dinner parties," Vaughn continued. "Well you don't need to bother yourself. Annabelle's a guest in my home. I wasn't planning on bringing her into yours."

  Feeling like a guilty eavesdropper, Annabelle took a step back. Neither mother nor son seemed to notice.

  "Now that's a pity," Estelle said, her voice seeming to be earnest. "Any friend of yours would be more than welcome. But I'm sure you two already have plans of your own." This time innuendo suggested that more was going on between Annabelle and Vaughn than mere friendship.

  Which led Annabelle to wonder if Vaughn often brought women-sports groupies in particular- home with him. She immediately discounted the idea, recalling his reaction to her red car, his unwillingness to let her call attention to them, and his need for peace and quiet. Vaughn might be all show when he was on display, but in his hometown, he was about privacy. If he wanted the lodge's perception turned around, that would have to change.

  But at the moment, Annabelle was all about ending this uncomfortable discussion between mother and son.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ANNABELLE GLANCED at Estelle Vaughn, the desire to make peace between the woman and her son overwhelming. "Oh we have lots of plans," Annabelle said, jumping into the conversation and deliberately taking over, "I’ve just taken a job as manager at a N.Y.C. hotel and Vaughn and I decided we could help each other out."

  Vaughn shot her a warning look. A look that said don't mess in my life.

  She glanced at him and shrugged in return. If he didn't seem inclined to make this meeting any easier, she did and part of her PR plan entailed more openness on his part.

  "To what do I owe this visit?" Vaughn asked his mother.

  Estelle brushed an imaginary strand of hair off her perfectly made-up cheek. "I just came over to remind you that the President of Greenlawn College is coming for dinner tomorrow night and he'd like to talk to you about that coaching job. And since members of the Board of Trustees will be attending, it's important that you be there."

  "Important to Theodore, you mean."

  "Any dinner party involving the college is important to your father." She batted her eyelashes in an obviously practiced move designed to silently sway him.He merely glanced heavenward, dismissing her.

  It struck Annabelle, not for the first time, that this woman didn't know how to work her son to get him to do her bidding, Every move she made seemed to strike Vaughn the wrong way.

  "It's also important to you, dear. Especially with their job offer on the table."

  Vaughn shook his head. "I already told them and you, I'm busy with the lodge and the volunteer work I do at the high school. I don't want their job."

  Estelle looked at Annabelle, treating her to a pleading, woman-to-woman glance. "Would you please tell him that it's more respectable to take a paying job as a football coach at a Region One college than to work for free with the juvenile delinquents who don't want to study hard enough to pass their classes?"

  And now Annabelle understood what Joanne meant when she'd called Vaughn's parents elitist snobs. She tensed, waiting for Vaughn's reply.

  "Those delinquents are kids that the system ignores." Vaughn's voice rose in anger. "Sports is their only chance of getting into a decent college, and if I can help them see that academics are important too, then I’ll have accomplished something," he said, gritting his teeth so hard the muscles bulged in his neck.

  She didn't know why these kids were so important to Vaughn, but at least now she understood his goals. From a business angle at least, Annabelle could come down on Vaughn's side.

  "Actually from a public relations perspective, volunteer work is much better than work for hire," she said to Estelle. "Vaughn obviously doesn't need the coaching job to make a living and if he's giving back to the students and to the community, it's admirable." Her defense of Vaughn came too naturally for her peace of mind and she told herself she admired his goals, nothing more.

  "Yes, well you're merely a hotel manager, dear. You wouldn't understand the world of academia that Brandon comes from." Estelle studied her from behind her large-framed sunglasses.

  Annabelle suffered the subtle put-down in silence. Apparently her men's-style plaid pants and white T-shirt hadn't passed Estelle's inspection. The thought had her biting back a grin. She chose to shut her mouth and let his mother continue.

  "Vaughn has the opportunity to make his father proud and it's time he took it," Estelle continued, oblivious to the fact that she'd long since lost her audience.

  "A Superbowl ring wasn't enough for the old man," Vaughn explained to Annabelle in a bored voice she didn't buy for one second. />
  His father didn't find the biggest accomplishment in Vaughn's career enough? That had to hurt, Annabelle thought.

  "Let's not revisit old drama again," his mother said. "You know how I hate airing family business in public. Just tell me you'll be at the dinner. Please."

  "I agree with your mother," Annabelle chimed in, seeing the opportunity as a golden one.

  "Like that's going to sway me." He folded his arms across his chest and stared stony faced.

  She sighed. Whatever Vaughn's reasons for not wanting to attend this dinner, they couldn't be as important as the PR reasons for him to attend. College events would bring visitors who would need a place to stay. Though Vaughn didn't yet realize it, he needed the University President and Board Trustees on his side, referring guests to his lodge.

  And since Vaughn was paying Annabelle to do her job, she damn well intended to push harder and explain her reasons to him later. "Your mother's right. I wouldn't understand academia," she said, neglecting to mention her college degree and her MBA. "But even a dinner party would be a nice diversion from this small town with no nightlife." She grasped his arm and squeezing tight. "Can't we go, please?" she asked him in a whiny, girlfriend voice.

  His mother already thought them a couple. She saw no reason not to reinforce the notion.

  He cleared his throat. "I don't think-"

  "Oh, please? I brought a nice dress and I'd love an excuse to wear it."

  Estelle remained silent, obviously weighing her options. Her son at the dinner party with his inappropriate girlfriend or no son at all. "Annabelle's right, Brandon. Give the young lady an excuse to get out of her sweats and dress up for a change."

  Annabelle shot Vaughn a triumphant grin. Damn she was good at reading people and gauging their reactions. Estelle had played right into her hands.

  "Fine. We'll be there," Vaughn said, patting her hand in a way that felt more like a slap than a love tap.

  "I can't wait to tell your father." Estelle jiggled her keys and began to walk away.

  Annabelle knew she'd pay later, but for now she was darn proud. She'd just performed her first duty as his publicist and garnered him an important public appearance with her by his side.

 

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