Hot Stuff

by Carly Phillips

  EVERYTHING WAS frigging perfect, Vaughn thought. So perfect that the construction and reconstruction crews didn't need him to oversee every small step anymore. In the one short week since Roy's arrest, everything that had been failing before fell into place now.

  Laura had called to thank him for helping to bail her out of the financial mess she'd gotten herself into. She wasn't even upset that the police had grilled her and looked into her business. She was just grateful everything was over now. She even accepted his criticism on how she'd screwed up the bars and his advice on how to whip them back into shape. You 're smarter than I gave you credit for, Brandon, she'd told him. Unbelievable.

  Then there was Todd. The kid was devastated about his father's involvement in the lodge's problems and even more messed up now that the man was being evaluated by a psychiatrist and would probably do time either in a hospital or jail. Vaughn had made it his mission to see that Todd remained on track both for football and his last year of high school. After all, that's what had motivated Roy, no matter how misguided he'd been.

  But with everything running smoothly now, Vaughn could actually afford to take time for himself. And what did he normally do when he had free time? He picked up the phone and dialed Nick's cell.

  The phone rang and rang and just as he was about to hang up, Nick's voice came on the line. "What the hell do you want, Vaughn? And it better be important."

  "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

  "Uh, you could say that."

  Vaughn heard giggling in the background and Mara's distinctive whisper to Nick.

  "I don't suppose you want to go get a beer?" Vaughn asked, feeling like an ass and an unwanted third party at the same time.

  "Give me the phone," Mara said in the background.

  What sounded like a wrestling session followed as Nick and Mara struggled for control of the receiver.

  "Vaughn?"

  "Hey, Mara. I guess we know who's gonna wear the pants in the family."

  "Ha, ha, ha. Now shut up and listen. How are you?" she asked.

  He scowled. "I'm fine."

  "Oh, really? Is that why you're calling Nick to go for a beer at seven o'clock on a work night?"

  "What the hell's wrong with that? We always go for a beer after work."

  "That was before Nick had me in his life. What, or should I ask who, exactly do you have in your life, Vaughn?"

  For the love of- "Put Nick back on the phone."

  "I can't. He's busy." She giggled and whispered something that sounded like "Cut that out."

  "I get the point, Mara. Nick's whipped now. No more boys' nights out." Vaughn paced his small kitchen.

  "I'll ignore that. I'm serious. You've got your lodge and your volunteer work and the kids you help practice on the side, but what's your personal life consist of?"

  Before he could answer, Mara kept right on going. "In other words have you spoken with Annabelle?" she asked, getting to the crux of things.

  "Way to tread lightly," Nick called out in the background.

  "Well have you?" Mara asked Vaughn.

  "No," he grumbled, more irritable now that she'd pointed out his life's shortcomings.

  Mara groaned. "You're an idiot, Vaughn. And if you aren't careful and you don't do something soon, you're going to end up alone."

  Vaughn let out a hard exhale. "Jeez, thanks for being a friend."

  "I am your friend and you know it. I love you and I don't want to see you screw up the best thing to happen to you. She's special, Vaughn."

  He raised his gaze to the ceiling. "Now you sound like my mother," he muttered.

  "You've been talking to your mother?" Mara asked sounding stunned. "Nick, Vaughn's been talking to his mother!"

  "Don't go hiring a skywriter to announce it or anything."

  "That's a fantastic idea!" Mara's voice rose in excitement.

  "Hey. Don't get carried away."

  "Both of you listen. We should hire one of those airplanes with a banner to advertise the lodge! I'll put it on my list of things to do."

  He nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Since you two are busy, I'm gonna let you go."

  "Promise to think about one thing for me. If you're talking with your mother, you've made strides you don't even realize. And remember, you're just as special as Annabelle is," Mara said.

  An awkward silence followed.

  "So don't let her get away," Mara said before. Vaughn heard the click ending their connection.

  And leaving him alone.

  So alone, he climbed into his truck and took a ride to the football field where it had all started. His career. His life. It was the place he'd first found something he excelled at and where he felt worthwhile.

  During and after a game, the cheers of the crowd had always sustained him, but never enough to compensate for the fact that his parents weren't in the stands. He thought he'd come to terms with that. Just as he thought he'd come to terms with misjudging Laura and how she'd belittled his abilities. But had he come to terms or was he still running away?

  He couldn't believe the way he'd come full circle. He'd made peace with everyone from Yank to Laura, and had even made strides with his parents. He'd suffered through an awkward family dinner, one where everyone had discussed what was going on in their lives and actually acted interested in each other's answers. Both his mother and father had proclaimed to accept the lodge as Vaughn's dream for the future.

  A dream, he realized, that wouldn't mean a damn thing to him if he had to live it alone. Without Annabelle.

  Yet to bring her into his life, he had to know he believed in himself. That he had come to terms with everything. Which meant an end to the running. Running from both the boy he'd been and the man he'd become.

  He parked his truck and walked to the field which was as empty as his house felt with Annabelle and her pets gone. As he stared over the vast landscape, he couldn't help but take Mara's words to heart.

  Was he just as special as Annabelle? Worthy of her love and spirit and generosity? He didn't know if he'd ever completely believe in himself that way but, dammit, she did and for Annabelle, for them, he had to try.

  ANNABELLE WALKED into her uncle's office. He greeted her with a loud catcall, followed by a frown. "Go home and change. No niece of mine is going out of the house dressed like a damn floozy."

  Annabelle grinned and twirled around. "What's wrong with Oscar de la Renta?" she asked of her pale pink, strapless cocktail-length dress. "Sarah Jessica Parker wore this dress. I saw the picture in Vogue magazine."

  He snorted. "I don't care if Sarah Bernhardt wore the damn thing. You'll have the young buck drooling. The twins are fallin' out, for God's sake," he muttered, speaking of her breasts.

  If she hadn't grown up with his frank talk, she'd blush now. "I have a very supportive bra. It's fine. Can we change the subject, please? So tell me, have you spoken to Lola?" she asked him.

  "Have you spoken to Vaughn?" Uncle Yank shot J back.

  "Nice comeback," she said through clenched teeth. "I came by to look through the list of people who'll be at the event tonight. I like to know who I can hit up for client coverage."

  Tonight was a party hosted by Oakleys and covered by Entertainment TV. She'd gotten a ticket to the A-list event for a new client she'd recently taken on-a young baseball player who'd been brought up from the Minors and who would benefit from meeting key sponsors. He'd asked her to join him.

  At first she'd declined. She was through with men and though she'd sung this tune once before, she meant it even more now. Because now she understood the difference between ego bruising and devastating heartache.

  Thank you, Brandon Vaughn.

  But she wasn't an antisocial person and she wouldn't be happy sulking in her apartment every night. So here she was, covering her hurt by attending a charity event with a client. The man wanted arm candy and arm candy was what she did best. In the meantime, she'd make and renew contacts to help all clients of The Hot Zone.

  A win-w
in situation if only she weren't so unhappy inside.

  "What are you doing here so late?" she asked her uncle.

  He glanced down. "I got nothing better to do."

  Annabelle knelt beside his chair. "Call her. All Lola wants is you. That's a simple, easy thing to give if you feel the same way in return."

  He patted her head like he used to do when she was a little girl. "When'd you get to be so smart?"

  "Same time you got to be so stubborn. Just think about it, okay? Lola doesn't want perfection. She just wants you." Hearing her words, Annabelle laughed and jumped back before Uncle Yank could react to that comment.

  "I love you, Annie," he said gruffly.

  "I love you, too."

  His smile faltered as he said, "If Vaughn hurt you I'm going to go after him with my Mickey Mantle Louisville Slugger."

  Annabelle shivered. Vaughn had swallowed too much of his pride and made too much progress with her uncle to lose ground because of her.

  She shook her head. "Vaughn's fine. The job ended and I came home. That's that."

  "Bull. I know something was going on between the two of you."

  Not for the first time, Uncle Yank actually made her blush. "Well I was the one that ended it, not him," she lied. "If anyone's hurt, it's Vaughn not me."

  Uncle Yank nodded slowly and Annabelle hoped he accepted her answer.

  He might never know it, but Annabelle considered that fib her farewell gift to Brandon Vaughn.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  VAUGHN SHOWERED, changed and drove into Manhattan, arriving late at night. He'd long since finished with the city scene but just knowing Annabelle was. here gave him a jolt of anticipation and excitement. For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to admit that he needed someone and he was damn well going after her. But he had one obstacle to overcome first.

  He stopped at Yank's New York apartment, then the old guy's favorite sports bar and even Lola's place, with no luck. Finally he pulled into The Hot Zone's building, and seeing Yank's vehicle in his VIP spot, Vaughn headed up the elevators. He didn't know why the older man would be here so late at night but he figured that, like Vaughn, Yank was running from his fears.

  The elevator doors opened and Vaughn stepped inside. The reception area was fit with its fluorescent rights but devoid of people. The other offices were dark except for Yank's, squelching the hope he might find Annabelle here as well. Vaughn supposed it was for the best though. He had business to take care off here first.

  He rapped on the door to make Yank, who was dozing with his feet propped up on his desk, aware of his presence.

  Yank snapped to attention. "I've never seen those panties before," he said as he dropped his legs to the floor and sat up straight in the chair.

  "Sounds to me like you got caught cheating once or twice in your life," Vaughn said laughing.

  "Oh, hell. I was dreaming." The other man ran his-hand over his scruffy beard. "Every man's worst; nightmare, you know? It's come more often lately,” he muttered.

  "It's guilt," Vaughn said with certainty, "You let the woman of your life walk out and you can't live with it."

  Yank waved for him to come in and have a seat. "I'm gonna assume that's yourself you're talking about, my boy."

  Vaughn let Yank appraise him with those all knowing eyes. "You'd be right," he dmitted.

  "I knew Annie was lying through her pearly' whites."

  "What'd she say?" Vaughn asked as he leaned forward in his seat.

  "That you didn't hurt her, she hurt you when she dumped your ass back in Greenlawn. But I knew better. I could see in her eyes she was protecting you, not that you deserve it you lowlife, sorry excuse for a-"

  Vaughn held up a hand to stop him. "I think we've been here before. And I'm not going to argue with you this time either. I just want to make things right."

  "Just how do you propose to do that?" Yank asked.

  "By going after Annabelle. But I had to come to you first." Embarrassed but certain, Vaughn shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. "You're like a father to me and I'm sorry I screwed you all those years ago. I'm grateful to have you back in my life now. To prove it, I'd do anything you asked of me except for one thing. I can't leave Annabelle alone. I love her, I need her and I want to marry her," he said in a rush, getting the words out before he lost his courage.

  Yank rose and strode up to him, glaring. "You won't leave her alone. Well isn't that swell."

  Vaughn's mouth grew dry. The last thing he wanted was to make a choice between his mentor and the woman he loved but there'd be no contest as to who would win. Unlike the beginning of their relationship when he'd sworn to himself he'd keep his hands off Annabelle, Vaughn refused to walk away from her now.

  "I have one question," Yank said, sounding good and pissed.

  "What?"

  "Who the hell asked you to stay away? As I recall, I told you my niece needed a good man. One who'd care for her and not abandon her because that's her greatest fear." Yank shoved Vaughn's shoulder with-one hand, pushing him hard. "When I said those words I meant that you were that man. But true to form, you didn't see yourself that way. Never have, never will." He snorted and shrugged. "Actually that's probably what makes you such a decent guy."

  A good man. Vaughn shook his head in disbelief. "Are you saying you want me with Annabelle?"

  "Give the man a cigar," Yank said laughing. "It takes you a while but at least you aren't permanently dense. So are you going to sit here talking to me all night? Or are you going to rescue Annie from that baseball player who isn't out of diapers yet?"

  Vaughn narrowed his gaze. "What baseball player?"

  Yank shrugged. "All I know is she was dressed to the nines and her twins were hanging out."

  “Twins?" Vaughn asked but he was afraid he already knew what Yank meant.

  "Urn, juggs, boobs, breasts, for God's sake," Yank muttered. "This is my niece so can we keep it clean?"

  Vaughn rolled his eyes. He'd seen Annabelle dressed for big-time events and knew exactly what her uncle meant. "I'm guessing she's gone out with a client, so just give me the address, okay?"

  He remained calm because he knew better than to think Annabelle would go out with another guy so soon after leaving him. But that didn't mean he liked her attending anything with another man, especially with her twins on display.

  Yank handed him a sheet of paper with the address. "Go get her, son."

  Vaughn choked up. He'd waited years to have Yank call him that again.

  Yank pulled him into a bear hug and when Vaughn stepped back, he grabbed Yank's arm. "I love you, Pops, and I want you to enjoy your life, not sit around alone at night feeling sorry for yourself. So if I'm going to go after Annabelle, you'd better go after Lola."

  Yank shook his head. "I had my chance years ago and I blew it."

  "Stubborn old man. I'll deal with you later," Vaughn promised. "Right now I have a lady to rescue."

  And that lady had captured not just his heart but everything Vaughn was.

  As he headed back for his car, he replayed his talk with Yank in his mind, one part in particular. His heart pounded hard in his chest as he recalled Yank telling him that Annabelle had defended him to her uncle.

  Vaughn couldn't get over that fact. She'd told Yank she'd broken up with him when it was completely untrue. Yeah she'd left him in Greenlawn, but he knew damn well it was because she wanted to avoid an awkward goodbye, because she also knew he wouldn't be asking her to stay. At the time she'd have been right. Yet knowing Yank would skin him alive if he knew Vaughn had hurt her, Annabelle had looked out for his relationship with her uncle anyway.

  Vaughn hadn't been looking for proof of her love or commitment to him. He'd come to New York without either and he would have laid his soul bare for her and risked all the protective barriers he'd spent years erecting on pure hope alone. He still planned to do just that, only now he had some proof that Annabelle loved him as much as he loved her.

  He just hop
ed love was enough and that he hadn't finally, irrevocably pushed her away for good.

  KEEPING A FAKE SMILE pasted on her face was getting more difficult by the minute. The charity event wasn't the problem. Annabelle liked mingling with other industry professionals. She enjoyed meeting the athletes, models and actresses also attending the event. She also liked the fact that Oakley sportswear and sunglasses was sponsoring such a good cause- the Lighthouse Foundation. And she was definitely enjoying the champagne punch. Unfortunately it was her client, Russell Bruno, who had her on edge.

  The man had huge teeth-made brighter thanks to the contrast with his black tuxedo jacket-a huge smile and an even bigger ego. To make matters worse, he also had large, groping hands and he liked to settle his palm on her ass. Clearly the man didn't understand the term professional association. She was tired of it and tired of him. So tired she was ready to go home.

  Unfortunately she'd let Russ, as he liked to be called, pick her up from The Hot Zone and now she was stuck here until he was ready to leave. But she was loathe to call his attention to her since he was finally, blessedly involved in conversation with someone else. A pretty brunette soap opera actress who was obviously impressed with his physique and pretty-boy face.

  Annabelle motioned to the bartender and he refilled her punch but before she could take a sip, she yawned and a loud sound escaped from the back of her throat by mistake.

  Russ turned around fast. "Oh, I’ve been ignoring my date." His attention back on Annabelle, he shot a regretful glance at the other woman by his side.

  "Not a problem for me," Annabelle muttered.

  Russ chuckled clearly not taking her seriously. "I get carried away telling the story of how I was called up from the Minors, but I'm back now," he promised: Annabelle and followed up his comment with a bold slide of his wandering palm from her back to her bottom.

  His other female companion took off in a huff.

  Russ let out an exaggerated exhale of relief. "I thought she'd never leave. I'm so sorry, sugar."