And that would be why I’m Skipper. Skipper got all of Barbie’s cast-offs.
A flash of headlights and the roar of a big engine brought all the garage lights on.
Squinting, Cora couldn’t prevent a shudder of relief. “That was quick.”
“Would you invite me to your pink bedroom later, Cora?” His eyes, soft brown. His grip, so comforting. His smile, tender rather than crookedly-wicked.
Cora’s heart pounded. His wasn’t the smile of a man looking for a uncomplicated sex. He was looking for something else, something she didn’t want to define and wasn’t ready to give.
When she didn’t answer, Trent released her and stared straight ahead. “I’ll have the tow truck drop me at my hotel. It’s just a few blocks away.”
Cora opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again. On the one hand, the one that was still warm from being clasped in his, she appreciated his sensitivity toward her pinkness. On the other hand, he’d never understand how Skipper could only be right for G.I. Joe.
Chapter 19
“You’re not coming in,” Cora said when Gemma parked in the driveway of Cora’s condo. It was close to five a.m. Cora was exhausted.
“I’m not one of your bad dates.” Gemma turned off her Camry. “I’m unlocking your door and taking my key. Next time, don’t give your house key to the tow truck driver.”
“I didn’t give the key to the tow truck driver. I put my key ring in the service envelope at the Mercedes dealership and dropped it into the early registration slot.” Trent’s continued rejections put Cora off her game. Why had she told him about her bedroom while they were stranded in the car?
When she’d realized the cab she called wasn’t coming and she didn’t have her house keys, Cora had a decision to make. She hadn’t wanted to wake Evan, so she hadn’t called Amber for a ride. She hadn’t wanted to disturb Blue, because he was filming today. Which left Gemma, keeper of all their spare house and car keys.
As promised, Gemma unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Wait.” Cora grabbed her arm. “Brutus isn’t here.”
“Maybe he’s sleeping.”
A rush of fear-fueled adrenaline had Cora opening the door wider. “He always greets me at the door.”
“Maybe you should have taken him.” Gemma spoke loudly enough to wake the dead. Or in this case, alert the burglar who’d broken in.
“To county jail?” Cora whispered.
“Don’t you have a doggy door?”
“No.” Brutus was in there somewhere, unable to get to her. She couldn’t just leave him or his lifeless body. Cora whispered instructions. “Stay outside with your cell ready to dial 911.” Using her flashlight app, Cora retrieved a bat from the hall closet.
“If you’re going in, I’m going in.” Gemma turned the entry light on, revealing them to any burglars and shedding light on a baggy pair of gray sweats and a holey, slept-in T-shirt.
“Gemma!” Cora turned the light back off.
Gemma stomped one of her booted feet, but kept quiet.
Still using her flashlight app, Cora checked the patio slider. Locked. She looked behind every couch and curtain. Nothing. And then her cell phone died. Darkness.
A noise upstairs had her blood running cold.
“What was that?” Gemma whispered right behind her, sending Cora nearly jumping out of her skin.
“Go back by the door.”
“Not on your life. You give me the bat. I’ll give you my cell phone. I played softball in high school. The kind with cleats and rules and bases.”
“I played ball with bases, too,” Cora quipped.
She could almost feel Gemma rolling her eyes. Light emitted from Gemma’s cell. She handed it to Cora and hefted the bat.
They crept upstairs, Gemma a step ahead of her the entire way. Another noise came from the second floor.
Someone had invaded Cora’s personal space, possibly hurt her precious dog. Fear dissolved into anger. Cora charged past Gemma up the stairs with a primal yell, flicking on her bedroom light.
Her bedroom was a mess. Ransacked. The culprit was sprawled on the floor on his back, snoring.
“Brutus.” Cora’s legs nearly gave out.
“Is this Barbie’s room?” Gemma stared around in wonder. “Her shoes are everywhere.”
“Those are my shoes.” Irreplaceable shoes until she earned her inheritance and could update her shoe wardrobe. In her haste to get to jail, she’d left the closet door partially open and Brutus had punished her for it, taking out four different shoes, ripping off ribbons, shredding leather, mangling heels. “Brutus, I only left you for a couple of hours.”
“Separation anxiety. That’s why Blue continues to take Mr. Jiggles everywhere.”
Cora bent and rubbed her dog’s full tummy. Brutus burped.
“Is this why Coach Parker dumped you?” Gemma gazed around the room. “I think it’s an awesome room. Girl Power.” She punched a fist in the air.
A stab of regret pierced Cora’s heart. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I wanted to paint my room pink when I was a kid. But my mom said pink was a gender stereotype she didn’t want to reinforce.”
“That sucks.”
Gemma shrugged. “I painted a mural of the zombie apocalypse on my wall instead.”
“That explains the combat boots,” Cora deadpanned.
“Not really,” Gemma said enigmatically. She gazed around again. “If you like pink so much, how come you never wear pink?”
“I guess I…uh…didn’t realize I never did?” She hadn’t thought about it. But now that she did, she realized she associated the color with Amber, who wore pink often.
Gemma stared at her. “You’d look good in pink.”
The day I take fashion advice from Gemma is the first day of the zombie apocalypse.
In the ensuing silence, Gemma looked more closely at the bat. “Oh, my God. This bat is signed by Rafael Wozniak.” She held it reverently. “This must have cost you a fortune.”
Cora sent Gemma a look that said exactly how she paid for that bat.
“Oh,” Gemma said in a small voice. “I’m going home now. To my single, empty bed.”
“Don’t sound so sorry for yourself. If you want to meet Rafe, I’ll introduce you.”
Gemma turned on the stairs and looked at her with wide eyes. “I’d die.”
“You wouldn’t die.”
Gemma nodded. “He wouldn’t know I exist if I stood in front of him.” She clutched the railing tighter. “No one knows I exist.”
“That’s not true.” Cora cradled Brutus. “You were on the cover of People magazine. Your picture’s posted on the L.A. Happenings blog. You hang out with Mimi Sorbet.”
Gemma’s lips soured. “No one knows my name.”
“Sometimes it’s better to only be known by your Twitter handle, especially when you make it in the gossip columns.”
“I suggest you hide a spare house key.” Gemma turned and marched down the stairs, making Cora wonder what she’d said wrong. “Because the next time your car breaks down and you need a ride home, I won’t come save you.”
“You can keep the bat,” Cora taunted. “It’ll be a conversation starter when I introduce you to Rafe.”
She heard the closet door downstairs open, the bat bang against the wall, and then the front door opened and closed.
She mourned her ruined heels with a moment of silence, stroking the small shoe-killer’s fur. “Brutus, your gift was about par for my evening.”
~*~
“Where am I?” Jack croaked like a bad karaoke speaker.
Vivian nearly leapt from her chair onto Jack’s hospital bed. She’d been asleep and forgotten he hated public displays of affection. He felt frail beneath her.
“Answer me,” he demanded, weakly pushing at Viv.
“Nurse! Nurse! He’s awake.” She pressed the red call button.
The night nurse came running. The doctor
was paged. The nurse took Jack’s vitals.
Jack tried to sit up and promptly tipped dizzily back in bed. “Damn it. My head hurts. Did you drug me?”
“No.” The relief of having Jack awake kept her from being annoyed. “They think you contracted the West Nile Virus.”
“Encephalitis,” the doctor said, entering the room. He must have been in their ward to have shown up so quickly. “You have a severe infection.”
“Thanks for making me well, Doc,” Jack wheezed.
“You’re not well.” The doctor took Jack’s pulse. “We’ll be fighting to rid you of this virus for days yet.”
“No. Viv, call Zach. There are papers I need to sign.” He looked about with scattered, unfocused eyes. “How long have I been in here?”
“Eight…Nine days.” She’d lost track.
Jack tried to get up again.
The doctor placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Mr. Gordon, we’re going to have to restrain you if you don’t lie down.”
“I need to get out of here.” Jack’s eyes bounced around the room wildly. “My business is in jeopardy. Where are my clothes?”
Viv stroked his hand. “Honey, you need to listen to what the doctor says and get well.” He hadn’t been forced to listen to predictions of death every day from the medical staff. He may have woken up, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet.
“Goddamnit, Viv. There are trades to be made. The media deal with the NBA – ”
“Zach and I can take care of whatever needs to be done.” Vivian stood firm. He’d almost died!
“And Trent Parker. I have to make sure he doesn’t ruin my team.” Jack tried to sit again.
“He’s not going to ruin your precious team, Jack. You hired him. He’s got to be good.”
Jack’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He jerked upright. “I have to get out of here. Someone’s trying to bankrupt my team. It’s the Russians. The NBA wants to sell my team to the Russians.”
Vivian caught the doctor’s knowing glance. Jack was talking gibberish. Why wasn’t the doctor worried?
As if reading her mind, the doctor said, “Paranoia is a side-effect of the high fever. His temperature isn’t down to normal yet.” The doctor held Jack down. “Mr. Gordon. We need you to rest.” And then in a hushed voice, “Nurse, sedative. Reassure him, Mrs. Gordon.”
That was like telling a rodeo clown to reassure a bull everything was going to be okay in the china shop.
“Jack. Jack.” Viv placed a palm on his cheek, gently forcing him to look at her. “You need to get better. You can’t fight the Russians and control the team unless you rest. If you close your eyes, I promise Zach will be here with papers for you to sign when you wake up.”
The nurse ran back in with medication. He injected something into Jack’s I.V.
Jack turned his head and kissed her palm. “Promise me you won’t screw up my dream, Viv. If I lose this, I have nothing…”
She wanted his dream to be her. The Rules were right. Even medicated, Jack couldn’t see her for the basketball team. This was her chance to make a play for her husband the only way she knew how. To destroy the competition. So what if the Flash went down while Jack was ill? If Jack lost the team, he’d have her. Only her. “I’m going to take care of everything, Jack. Just wait and see.”
~*~
The front desk clerk at the Beverly Hilton greeted Trent at five-thirty, just two hours after the tow truck had dropped him off. “Rough night, sir?”
“And then some.” Trent waving to the valet to bring his car around.
There hadn’t been enough time for meaningful sleep, not after having pseudo phone sex with Cora. Without the phones. In her car. Without the all-important finale, too, which explained why he had another crotch-tightening case of blue balls.
She thought making love to her one night allowed him to shelve her as a distraction? Wrong. Cora popped into his thoughts and popped up his dick at the most inconvenient times. She’d explained her hang-up with the bedroom and yet she still didn’t want to let him in. What was he doing wrong?
This was his shot at the NBA. He had to be perfect. Long days and long nights dedicated to setting up his team to win. His focus needed to be 100% on the team, not divided between his team and a woman.
His dad exited the elevator, yawning. He noticed the valet pulling up in the Fairlane. “Why don’t you buy something fast and racy? The air conditioning in that car is prehistoric. But for God’s sake, don’t drink the California water and buy a Prius.”
The Fairlane protested being put in park by the valet and gave its usual backfire. “As much as I want to buy a second vehicle, I’m really busy right now.” He didn’t even have time to find a place to live.
Carrying a cup of coffee, Randy hurried to join them as they exited the lobby. The morning air was crisp, nothing like the heat they’d get later in the afternoon.
“And I’ve been thinking. We need a good secretary for the coaching staff. Just don’t make babies with her – either one of you.” The old man was bursting with unwanted advice this morning.
“What about a life coach?” Trent murmured, tipping the valet.
“I didn’t catch that, but it was probably some of your bad humor.” Archie opened the passenger door and held it for Randy to climb in the back. “The next thing you need is a great house overlooking the ocean. I’ve seen pictures of Phil Jackson’s place. He can drink coffee on his porch and watch the dolphins swim by.”
“Dad, I have a one-year deal. A house like that would cost me my entire salary.”
“Jack’ll give you an extension.” The old man’s voice rumbled louder than cheap tires on rough pavement. Then his voice smoothed out. “Just win games.”
“Playoffs, Dad. We have to make playoffs.” Or they’d be fired. There was no way he was screwing this up. Unless he took his eyes off the prize.
An image of Cora came to mind – naked on her pink sheets, cradling a basketball in her arms.
Trent swore and gunned it out of the parking lot.
~*~
Damn it, Jack.
He’d kissed Viv’s palm and told her he’d have nothing without the Flash.
He’d have me!
Jack made love to her like he wouldn’t live to see tomorrow. And now, when he was dancing with death, he still couldn’t put their future ahead of that damn basketball team.
I failed.
Vivian had never failed at anything in her life.
She’d never wanted anything as desperately as she wanted Jack. But it was time to face reality. He liked being with her as long as he could get between her legs, but he didn’t love her. Maybe he never had.
She drove away from the hospital at dawn as traffic on the 405 was just starting to thicken. Her heart had been cracked and broken and damaged too often over the past few weeks. It didn’t shatter now. But she felt cold inside. And with the cold, a new sense of purpose arose.
It was time Vivian took her future into her own hands.
A few hours later, showered, perfumed, wearing an Armani power suit, she approached the large black desk in Jack’s office. Once, a long time ago, he’d made love to her on that desktop. She ran a hand along the edge of the cool wood, coming around to sit in Jack’s black leather chair.
The Rules wanted her to prove to Jack that she could be his business partner.
Reclaim your power.
The doctor said Jack would be on forced bed rest under restraint for a few more days, maybe a week. That gave Vivian a week to prove something to everyone.
“Can I help you, Mrs. Gordon?” Zach, Jack’s assistant, walked into the office. He was young and green, and used to jumping every time Jack screamed at him.
She smiled the smile she used on people she wanted something from. “Zach, have I ever told you that I co-signed for ownership of this team?”
After a moment of hesitation, Zach shook his head. The look in his eyes said he was a scared rabbit.
Jack ate scared r
abbits for breakfast.
But so did Viv.
“My husband won’t be released from the hospital for at least another week. I need to get up to speed. I’ll give you twenty minutes to prioritize what needs my attention. And if you don’t bring me everything, including the NBA’s latest media offer, you’re fired.”
The rabbit hesitated. “Is Mr. Gordon…Is Mr. Gordon going to die?”
Vivian almost crumbled. No one could reassure her of that. She held onto her composure by the thinnest of threads. “Just do it.”
Zach hurried out.
Vivian sank back into plush leather. Power felt good. With power, if Jack didn’t want her when he was released, she might heal.
There was a player contract in the center of the desk. Hugh Irving. She’d never heard of him. She scanned the terms of the deal – seven hundred fifty thousand for three months. The option was for an additional two million for the rest of the season if he performed to Jack’s standards.
Vivian searched for Hugh Irving on her iPhone. The guy was a royal screw-up – alcohol, women, gambling. He’d only been in the league for three years and he’d been kicked off four different teams.
Vivian smiled.
Hugh Irving was the perfect addition to take the Flash down.
And then Vivian found something even better. A notice from the Madison Square Garden group, the owners of the Fabulous Forum, where the Flash played…Or used to.
L.A. Happenings by Lyle Lincoln
…Need further proof that Cora Rule and Trent Parker are an item? The pair showed up together at the county big house to bail out Antoine Watson in the middle of the night.
…Kaya Anika has been named to the all-star cast of the Amazing Race. Always a fan favorite, Kaya was spotted leaving Panache after a late night dinner with beau, Langdon Price, and the cutest little dog. Totable dogs are once more the rage in Hollywood.
Chapter 20
Cora entered the Dooley Foundation with a double shot of espresso. She was late, having to take a taxi to the Mercedes dealership for a loaner. Her eyes felt like they were trying to hold up sandbags. Regular strength coffee was failing her.
Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015 Page 19