Raise Your Game: A Stand-Alone Romantic Comedy

by Cassia Leo

Logan drains his own wine glass and scoots his chair out. “I have to use the restroom. Will you be okay by yourself?”

  “Of course,” I reply. “Go ahead.”

  “Aw, isn’t that sweet,” Lindy remarks, her eyes following Logan as he heads toward the men’s room.

  Everett watches the bathroom door close behind Logan before he turns to me with a cocky smile. “I know how charming my brother can be, but you shouldn’t get too close to him,” he begins, cutting to the chase. “This is what he does best. He charms people to get them to do what he wants, then he moves on. Believe me when I say that whatever you’re feeling for him is not reciprocated. And if this whole thing blows up in your face, as I suspect it will, you’re going to need a contingency plan. I’m certain I can provide you a better option than anything my brother is offering, because unlike him I will actually follow through.”

  “I’m not interested,” I reply, reaching for my glass of ice water.

  “Take some time to think about it. If you care at all about your future, I suggest you hear me out,” he insists as he hands me a business card with a phone number and no name. “My offer is on the back. Don’t hesitate to call me.”

  I turn the card over and my heart nearly stops beating. On the back, he’s written a dollar figure: $500,000.

  Logan emerges from the restroom, so I quickly stuff the card into my bra.

  Everett removes the napkin from his lap and wipes his mouth as Logan sits down again. “Well, that went well. A wonderful meal, Logan. Though, it seems like getting that scoop might be a little more difficult than you anticipated. But – and I mean this from the bottom of my heart – best of luck to both of you,” he says, as he and Lindy rise from the table. “For now, I’ll look forward to that vow renewal ceremony. Good evening, Sophie.”

  “Did he try and bribe you during the two minutes I was in the bathroom?” Logan remarks as he cuts into his snapper.

  The corner of the business card in my bra pokes against my skin. “No, they were just gloating.”

  Logan stares at me for a moment as I make no attempt to finish my meal. “Are you okay? Did they insult you or something? Because I won’t hesitate to go after them.”

  I chuckle nervously. “No, I’m just not feeling very well. I think I want to go back to the room.”

  “Of course. Whatever my ice queen wants, she shall have,” he declares with the most gorgeous goofy smile I’ve ever seen.

  After dinner, we arrive at the suite to find our room has been tidied up by housekeeping, which reminds me that I forgot to call the front desk and ask them to put a hold on housekeeping services until after we check out. First things first, I immediately head to the restroom and lower the toilet lid, so I can have a seat as I pull the business card out of my bra and stare at it for a while.

  The $500,000 figure is burned into my retinas as I close my eyes and recall how I refused to look at the amendment earlier. Then, I think of Everett’s words, his insistence that Logan will dump me once he gets what he wants.

  As I stand up and flush the toilet to pretend I used the restroom, my phone vibrates inside my clutch. Pulling it out, I’m surprised to find it’s a text message from Dr. Mahoe.

  Dr. Mahoe:

  I’ve just spoken with Lindy, and she explained your scheduling conflict. Please rest assured that I have moved the vow renewal ceremony to tomorrow night, which is the evening before your last day at the resort. Good night and good luck, Team Ka’pipi!

  I wash my hands even though I didn’t use the toilet, then I head out of the bathroom to show Logan the text message from Dr. Mahoe.

  He stares at my phone as I hold it up to face. “It’s not like it’s official. It’s just symbolic. If it were a real wedding, we’d have to get a marriage license. Right?”

  I flinch at his words. “What do you mean, ‘right?’ I don’t know how it works. I’ve never been married. Aren’t you supposed to be a lawyer?”

  He nods slowly. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s totally not official. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Pretty sure and totally not are two completely different things. They didn’t teach you that in law school?”

  He smiles as he coils an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him. “I studied corporate law. I’ll phone a friend tomorrow,” he says, leaning in to kiss my neck. “He’s a divorce lawyer. He’ll know for sure.”

  I know I should tell him about Everett’s attempt to bribe me. And if I don’t tell him, I should definitely not allow him to continue kissing my neck and palming my breast. I definitely shouldn’t let him kiss me on the mouth, siphoning the air from my lungs. I shouldn’t help him lift my dress over my head, and I really should not let him – Oh, God – touch my pussy as if he owns it.

  But there’s no stopping this runaway train now. The rules were thrown out the window the moment he kissed me in yoga class this morning. And as he lifts me off the ground, so I can wrap my legs around his waist, I know the rules – and I – never stood a chance against this man.

  Chapter 11

  LOGAN

  For the first time all week, I awaken in a panic, afraid I slept through our six a.m. wake-up call. But the moment I open my eyes and see Sophie’s body inches away from mine, the panic evaporates. After three nights on that torture device the hotel calls a sofa, waking up in an actual bed with this gorgeous creature at my side feels like waking up in heaven. I feel more rested than I have in years.

  Sophie is sleeping so peacefully, lying on her belly with her head turned toward me. Silky waves of golden-blonde hair curtain half of her face. She looks just as beautiful with and without her pineapple. I can’t help but smile at the way her pouty mouth hangs open, making her appear surprised.

  I slide out of bed slowly, determined to take a shower and get dressed without waking her. But the moment my feet hit the carpet, she lets out a soft groan.

  I glance over my shoulder and, sure enough, her eyelids flutter open. “I didn’t mean to wake you. You can go back to sleep if you want. You don’t have to get up for another half hour.”

  She smiles as she squints at me through the hazy morning light filtering in through the crack in the black-out drapes. “I can’t go back to sleep,” she mutters as she rolls onto her back. “Today is the wives’ spa day. I need to figure out how I’m going to crack the code to get into Kitty’s vault of secrets with all those other wives around.”

  I want to make a joke about getting into Kitty’s vault, but all I can think is that I should tell Sophie the truth. I should tell her we no longer need to get the scoop. While we were at dinner last night, I used the excuse of a trip to the restroom to hide the fact I was making a phone call to my lawyer to tell him to make a couple more changes to Sophie’s compensation agreement, changes I’m sure she’ll be very happy with. But the guilty look on her face, and the smug look on Everett’s face, when I returned to the table played to my worst fears.

  I don’t know for certain that my brother attempted to bribe Sophie in my absence, but I think I know my brother well enough to know that he’s boringly predictable. He’s a one-trick pony. And if he tried to bribe Sophie, Everett will be disqualified from our little competition. Well, as long as no one finds out I slept with Sophie.

  To a certain extent, Everett is correct that money can buy just about everything you want in this world. But Lindsay Lohan proved that money can’t buy class, and Sophie has proved to be the epitome of a class act. I hope I’m right that she would tell me if Everett offered her a bribe.

  I lie back on the bed so I’m facing her. “You should get Kitty alone in the steam room and ask her in there,” I suggest as I lean over to place a kiss on her shoulder.

  She chuckles as I turn her onto her back and slide my leg between hers. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea or a bad idea. Are people more or less likely to tell the truth when they’re naked?”

  “I plead the fifth,” I reply, my erection growing against her hip as my hand slides between h
er legs. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

  She sucks in a sharp breath as I slide my finger inside her. “I don’t know. That’s, like, two weeks away.”

  I laugh as I gently feel my way to her engorged clit and her body jerks. “Two weeks is not a long time.”

  She closes her eyes as her hips buck against my hand. “I… I usually just stay home and watch the Macy’s parade while stuffing my face with mashed potatoes from a box.”

  I stop as I’m about to lick the pebbled flesh around her nipple, which is when it dawns on me that she has no siblings and both her parents are dead. Jesus Christ. How could I forget something so huge?

  I remove my hand from between her legs and pull my head back so I can look her in the eye. “I’m sorry. That was an insensitive question.”

  She smiles as she grabs my hand and puts it back on her pussy. “What’s really insensitive is not letting me orgasm,” she says, her hazel eyes rolling back in their sockets as she grinds against my hand.

  “You don’t know how fucking sexy it is to see you using my hand as a sex toy. My Magnum is hard as granite right now.”

  She lets out a breathy laugh as she continues to use my fingers to manually stimulate herself. “Oh, my God,” she gasps, letting go of my hand so I can finish her off.

  But my need to taste her the way I did yesterday is overwhelming.

  I throw the covers off her, and she squeals as I lift her leg and dive between her thighs. “I want you to spend Thanksgiving with me,” I say, parting her lips to expose her spot. “I’ll even get you a box of powdered mashed potatoes, if that’s what you’re into.”

  She moans as I swirl my tongue around her clit. “Thanksgiving…with you? Is it really fair to…ah…ask me while you’re…oh, God...”

  I suck gently on the tender flesh, unable to control my smile as her legs begin to quiver. “Not just with me. With my mom, too,” I reply quickly before sliding my tongue inside her to taste that exquisite flavor I sampled yesterday.

  Her fingers curl around my hair. “Your mom?” she says, breathless. “That…that sounds serious.”

  I pinch her clit and gently stroke it as I apply feather-soft licks with the tip of my tongue. She can only endure this approach for a few seconds before her thighs lock onto my head, her back arching dramatically as the orgasm rolls through her.

  “Holy shit!” she gasps as she yanks my hair to pull me up and on top of her. “Where did you learn that?”

  I open my mouth to reply, but she quickly places a finger over my mouth to stop me.

  “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  I shake my head and lean in to kiss her. She wraps her legs around my hips, grinding her slick pussy against my dick as we kiss. And it’s not just any kiss. It’s the kind of kiss you get after you’ve gone away to war and returned to your sweetheart years later. It’s a movie-kiss. A kiss to seal fates and topple kingdoms. The kind of kiss you can only share with someone who owns you heart and soul.

  I’m fucking doomed.

  I don’t even try to stop so I can grab another condom. I don’t want to come up for air. I never want to stop kissing this woman.

  But the sound of the hotel room door opening suddenly and violently interrupts us. Sophie gasps as I leap off the bed and reach for the sheet and comforter I tossed onto the floor. I quickly throw the sheet over Sophie’s naked body as the housekeeper enters.

  The woman’s jaw hits the floor as she stares at my erection.

  I hastily attempt to cover it up with my hands, but that’s not as easy for me as it is for other men.

  “I’m so sorry!” the woman proclaims, her hand shooting up to cover her eyes as she turns around. “So sorry. I go now.”

  Fuck. This is not good.

  When I stepped away from the dinner table last night to call to my lawyer, Ernest Wilhelm, he confirmed some interesting information for me. After my lunch meeting with Lindy the other day, I immediately asked Ernest to find out if my father was indeed in the process of transferring his shares to Everett. It turns out, as I suspected, that Lindy was feeding me an enormous load of bullshit. She and Everett probably assumed I would slacken my efforts to get the scoop on Kitty and Jason if I believed I never had a chance to win my father’s shares.

  Of course, that means that Everett probably has tons of spies positioned all over the resort, people he’s bribing to keep an eye on Sophie and me, to make sure I’m not using my dick to get my scoop.

  “I will put do not disturb,” the housekeeper says as she closes the door behind her.

  I sit down on the edge of the mattress and hang my head in my hands as I try to think. Sophie has gone into a state of paranoia every time the housekeeper walked in on us, but I laughed off her concern. I can’t believe it never occurred to me that this may have been purposeful. This has to be Everett’s doing.

  Sophie slides off the bed and sits next to me. “I don't understand why you’re so worried about the cleaning lady seeing us having sex. Isn’t that what we want her to see? It adds credibility to our fake marriage.”

  I should tell her about the competition for my father’s shares, but I’m suddenly consumed with rage at Everett and Lindy for being complete dirt-bags. But I’m mostly angry at myself for failing Sophie. I had this in the bag and now it’s slipping through my fingers again.

  At least, if I’m correct that Everett has bribed Sophie or the inept maid, getting caught sleeping with Sophie evens the playing field again. Now, we have to get the scoop.

  I should have been honest with Sophie about the deal with my father from the get-go. Then, I wouldn’t be stuck with the realization that I’m going to lose the competition and Sophie if I don’t get that scoop, because I have to be honest with her at some point.

  Unfortunately, it’s not in my or Sophie’s best interests to come clean to her right now. If I do that, I’ll risk destroying any trust I’ve built up between us. And even if she does understand my reasons for not telling her about the competition, putting that kind of burden on her could throw her off her game with Kitty today.

  I’m fucking damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

  All I can do now is put my faith in Sophie. If she pulls through and gets the scoop, I already have the board of Kensington Publishing agreeing to authorize a ten-million-copy print run on next month’s issue of Close-Up. Sophie and I will shatter the revenue targets for quarter-four earnings. Even if she decides not to forgive me, the changes I made to her compensation agreement will ensure she walks away with more than enough money to pay off her mortgage and take some time off to find herself.

  I heave a deep sigh and turn to Sophie. “I just don’t want anything to jeopardize what we’ve done here. I don’t want Everett to accuse me of cheating my way to the top.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Why would he accuse you of that? You’re both working toward the same goal, right? You both want to save Kensington Publishing.”

  I stare into the hazel eyes I’ve come to regard with such reverence and lie. “Of course, but if you and I pull out a great fourth quarter for Close-Up, I won’t encounter any resistance to your promotion or end-of-year bonus.”

  Her eyebrows scrunch up as she stares off into the distance. “Well, then we have to get that scoop. I’ll shower first.”

  We head down to grab some breakfast in the hotel restaurant before another Tantra yoga class later this morning. In the elevator on the way down, I grab Sophie’s hand and bring it to my mouth to place a kiss on her knuckles. She grins and rubs her cheek against my shoulder like a cat rubbing its scent on their possessions.

  I seize the opportunity to kiss the top of her head. A strange urge to say three words I’ve never said to a woman overcomes me, but I manage to stop myself by pressing my lips together and leaning my head back so I can’t smell her intoxicating scent. I’m so fucking screwed.

  On the way to the restaurant, I’m stopped in my tracks when I see our housekeeper standing near the concierge desk, c
hatting with Everett.

  Sophie doesn’t realize I’ve stopped walking until she’s yanked backward. “Hey, what are you doing?”

  As if on cue, Sophie follows the direction of my gaze just in time to see Everett handing the housekeeper a thick manila envelope. Both Everett and the housekeeper look in our direction, but the housekeeper at least has the decency to quickly scurry away toward the elevator. Everett waves at Sophie and mimes holding a telephone to his ear as he clearly mouths the words, “Call me.”

  Sophie’s mouth drops open. “Why would Everett want to bribe the cleaning lady?” she asks, though her voice has jumped at least an octave.

  “I told you, he’ll try to use her to prove I slept with you so you’d help me get the scoop on Kitty,” I whisper, looking around the hotel lobby to make sure no other couples are nearby.

  She seems to be pondering something significant for a moment before she replies. “You're hiding something from me.”

  “I’m hiding something?” I say, my heart racing at the guilty look on her face. “What did you and Everett talk about yesterday at the restaurant while I stepped away?”

  “Is this some kind of test?”

  “Answer the question, Bishop.”

  She lowers her gaze to my chest and shrugs. “I already told you. He was just goading me. You know, making me think he’s going to expose us to the other couples.”

  My gaze burns into her as I wait for her to look me in the eye again, but her eyes keep flitting toward the restaurant and the concierge desk. “Is that really all he said?”

  “How about you answer my question first? Why is Everett bribing the cleaning lady?”

  Now I’m the one glancing around to make sure no one heard her raise her voice. “We can’t talk about this right now,” I say, nodding toward the entrance to the restaurant, where the elderly couple who sat behind us in Tantra yoga just walked in. “We have to stay in character for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, we leave this island and go back to the real world, and we’ll discuss it then.”