Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015

by Melinda Curtis

  “I’m busy. Both of you may leave.” Viv clutched a pen with dagger-like intensity, as if contemplating throwing it at one of them. “Cora, I’ll need to see you later, after I’ve had more time to explore options for the team.”

  “I’d like to discuss options before any decisions are made.” Trent’s Southern accent was too thick, giving away his anger.

  The ice queen arched her brows, but said nothing, reinforcing their presence was no longer required. Cora and Trent made their exit. Cora couldn’t wait to get away from Trent.

  The office staff looked miserable, as if they wished Jack would come back. Cora reached for her cell phone, planning to call Blue and vent.

  “Not so fast, Dr. Frankenstein.” Trent grabbed Cora’s arm. “From what Viv said, you created this monster. What’s her game plan?”

  “Now you want my input?” Instead of struggling to free herself, Cora faced Trent and grabbed his shoulder. “I’ve had a bad day. A very bad day. One that started way too early. I’m angry right now.” She drew a deep breath and stared at his lips. “The way I see it, this can go one of two ways. If you don’t let go of me, I’m either going to knee you in the nuts, or kiss you.”

  There were two kinds of heat in his eyes – frustration and desire. Her pulse accelerated. It was desire that held her immobile, not the desire for an outlet any lips would achieve. It was desire for his lips.

  I’m in deep shit.

  “Whatever you decide, I’d rather not have an audience, so hold that thought,” he said enigmatically. He nodded toward Zach and Nina. “When Jack gets back he’s going to fire you unless you contain Vivian. Has she signed the NBA media deal?”

  Nina shook her head. “The legal team is working the negotiations Jack requested.”

  Cora was angry, and Trent was talking as if there was nothing unusual in their stand-off? Her grip on Trent’s shoulder tightened.

  “Patience,” he said to her half under his breath. “Make sure legal doesn’t wrap things up in less than a week, Nina. Zach, I want you at the hospital. As soon as Jack’s able, he needs to reclaim this team.”

  “I need to leave.” Standing here, like this, she couldn’t decide if she was acting like a bully or a petulant child. One thing was certain. She was making a spectacle of herself. She released Trent’s shoulder.

  “No, sugar.” He didn’t release her. “You’re coming with me. For whatever reason, your presence settles the team.” Trent kept hold of her arm and dragged her into the hallway, his longer steps over-reaching hers. “I swear, Cora, you’re like some God-damn mascot that shits on my couch when my back is turned. What does Vivian have planned?”

  “I don’t know.” Bent like a Neanderthal, she trotted to keep up with him in last year’s Prada, ankle-strap pumps. The comparison to a shitting mascot stung. She wished she’d kneed him in the nuts. “If you would’ve told me what changes you had planned, I could’ve prepped her.”

  He released her arm, backing her quickly against the wall. The anger sparking from his eyes and reverberating from every muscle matched hers. “I didn’t even tell my own staff. Things like this get out and the market value of a player goes up.” He crowded into her space until no more than an inch separated them. Less, when she breathed.

  Cora didn’t dare breathe. To breathe meant to decide – knee or lips. Bully or petulant child. Bitch or whore. Not wanting to decide, she flattened herself against the wall. “And you don’t see a problem with keeping this from your staff? From Randy and your dad?” It always amazed her when Trent revealed he was as messed up and untrusting than she was.

  “This is my chance at my dream. My ass is on the line. Do you know what it’s like to be responsible for everyone around you – players, coaches, even you.” His head came in closer to hers, so close they could have kissed.

  She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him fast and hard until the fire in her blood cooled and the anger faded.

  Then the meaning of his words sunk in. “You feel responsible for me?” Her anger dissolved into something soft and unexpected.

  “Hell, yes,” he snapped. “You and the Dooley Foundation. You and your pink room. You and the way you look at me when we’re alone. I know you can take care of yourself, but I can’t help but feel that someone needs to watch out for you.”

  That had to rank up there with one of the kindest things anyone had ever said to her. Now she wanted to kiss him for an entirely different reason. There was a layer of separation missing between them, a defense that had fallen. He could see things about her that others couldn’t.

  Kiss him? What would kissing solve? Reinforce that she wanted Trent to watch out for her? Wouldn’t that allow him to have a say in her life? Amber was right. She needed to figure out what she wanted from a man and what she was willing to give in return. Before kissing and sex and dreams of white weddings.

  What she wanted…What she was comfortable with in this moment, was apologizing.

  She released a slow breath, reaching just as slowly to place her hands on his waist. “I’m sorry about Vivian. I was trying to convince her to support Jack and it just went to hell.”

  The thin set of his mouth confirmed he agreed with her.

  Cora hurriedly added, “I may not understand why you picked up Irving, but the word trade worries me. These players deserve a shot together. I get carried away protecting my guys from trades, including Evan.”

  “My guys. Shit.” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers. His body was a mess of tension. “I’m surrounded by rookies. I would like nothing more…” He sighed. “…then to see the Dooley Foundation ousted from this organization.”

  She didn’t rise to the Foundation’s defense. She focused on deliberate, steady breaths. There had been misjudgments on her part. There wouldn’t be any more.

  “I should ban you from the practice facility, the same way I ban Antoine’s posse and Jablone’s wife.” His forehead continued to rest on hers, contradicting any intentions he had of following through.

  Cora’s hands stole up to rest on his chest. It was a really nice chest. “If you ban me, who’s going to bolster their confidence when they’re down? Who’s going to listen to the white noise of their celebrity life and refocus them on basketball?”

  “They should be turning to their coaches. Or their shrink.” So stubborn. Just like her.

  She lowered her voice, as if saying it softly would emphasize its importance. “If you ban me, who’s going to handle Viv? Thanks to her, the Flash is playing the first half of the season at a junior college.”

  He drew back. “What?”

  “You really don’t pay attention to social media, do you?” She side-stepped into the corridor, gaining much-needed breathing room. “The earliest Jack will be released is next week. If Viv did this in one day, imagine what she’ll do in seven. I can help you. I can be part of the team.”

  He scowled. She could almost see him calculating player salaries against ticket sales.

  “I know you like to control everything.” She sucked in much needed air and pushed toward her goals – meet the sales quota, earn millions, move to Paris, and prove to everyone that she was worthy of respect. Then she’d leave her pink room behind. Forever. She ignored the prickle of regret in her belly. “Whatever innovations you have in mind, whatever plans you have for a future trade, dealing with Viv is going to be an obstacle. I can help you.”

  His gaze continued its calculation. This time of her. “Your first priority is the Dooley Foundation. How can I trust you?”

  How indeed? He didn’t even trust his own staff.

  It’s nothing that can’t be mended, her father’s voice, along with a long-forgotten memory from her childhood. She’d been angry that he’d given Amber Bridal Barbie for the holidays, while Cora had received Bridesmaid Skipper. Barbie was da-bomb! Skipper was a nerdy nobody. Looking back, Cora couldn’t believe anyone had thought she’d be satisfied with Skipper.

  There’d been some angry screaming
on Cora’s part. She’d thrown Skipper in the toilet, which clogged the plumbing and the holiday celebration, until the plumber showed up and her dad miraculously produced a second wrapped box with Bridal Barbie. Had that been a gift for another daughter? Another of his princesses?

  Did I ruin another child’s Christmas?

  She couldn’t think of Daddy and his other children now, couldn’t let the insecurities in. “You’ve got everything on the line, Trent. I understand why you require proof.” Cora’s voice firmed. “Let me prove it to you. I’ll go back to Viv right now. Let me prove to you how valuable the Dooley Foundation can be.” Let her prove what an asset she was. Without kisses. Without sex. Without the need to watch out for her and her pink room.

  After a brief moment of consideration, he nodded. “But I have positions to fill and I’ve already decided how to fill them. If you want the Dooley Foundation around, at least until Jack returns, you’ll clear a path with Viv for what I want. Trades. Contracts.”

  Cora nodded and offered him her hand, proving they only had a business arrangement. Nothing more.

  When her heart panged unexpectedly at the thought, she tried not to pay attention.

  ~*~

  Trent turned away from Cora and headed toward the fitness center and his team.

  She butted her head into his business. Thoughts of her intruded 24/7 when they shouldn’t. He wanted her to resolve her pink bedroom, privacy issues. And yet, he had no time for her.

  This is not good.

  For days, he’d been watching the team, simultaneously composing text messages and conversations with her in his head, then forcing himself to leave it. To leave her alone. He’d been angry at her for meddling with Vivian. Shit-fire angry. He’d let his temper get the best of him, bodying her up to the wall, challenging her temper, daring her to kiss him again. But she hadn’t.

  When she’d admitted she was wrong, he couldn’t walk away.

  The acquisition of Hugh Irving was finally signed, but that meant there was more work than ever to be done. He shouldn’t have taken those few hours off this morning to open a bank account and do his laundry. The hotel would do his laundry, but at a cost that made his eyes roll up in his head. No way was he paying one hundred dollars to wash three loads.

  Archie poked his grizzled head out the workout room door. “Good, you’re here. Nina transferred Hugh Irving’s assistant to me. They want to know about flight arrangements from Miami to L.A.”

  “What do I look like? A travel agent? Transportation is Irving’s problem if the front office doesn’t want to deal with him. He needs to be here and ready to go at seven a.m. tomorrow or his contract is null and void.”

  Archie nodded and held the door for Trent.

  “Fuckin’ A, Parker.” Evan led the assembled mob toward him. “Who gave Viv contract-blanche over the team? If she can sign Irving, she can break any of our deals.”

  “We already have a center.” Ren thumbed his chest. “Me, the pride of South Korea.”

  “That dude is bad news.” One eye swollen shut, Antoine side-stepped nervously. “Worse than anyone in my posse.”

  Trent would have been annoyed at their panic, if not for one thing – when the situation turned to shit, they’d all turned to him, not Evan. Hallelujah, they were starting to see him as their leader.

  “Bad news would be if you cry-babies used this as an excuse to short-change your workout.” Trent’s gaze drilled into each of them, including Randy and Berto. “Nothing is certain. When Irving gets here, you’re going to show him how hard it is to earn a spot on this team.”

  They all shuffled their feet like kindergartners who’d just been told they had to wait to go to the potty.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be on the court?” Trent bellowed. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  Unused to their coach – the Reverend – shouting profanity, they got the fuck out of there.

  ~*~

  The Flash’s biggest head-case glanced up from Jack’s laptop screen when Cora entered.

  “I thought you were smarter than this.” Cora sat in a chair opposite Viv. “You need me more than I need you.”

  “Seriously?” Viv laughed in that fake, Beverly Hills housewife way that drove Cora nuts. “Enlighten me.”

  “Jack is going to get better, and he’s going to charge in here and kick your ass out. For good.” If hell froze over and she ever married, Cora couldn’t imagine sabotaging her husband’s dreams.

  Vivian sat back in her chair, a glimmer of regret in her eyes. “Have you ever had one of those moments when you realize you’re wasting your time?” She drew a slow, deep breath and ran her fingers along the chair’s arms. “When I sit here, I feel the power that Jack has. It’s comforting to know that if this doesn’t work, I’ll be okay…Eventually.”

  Viv was getting over Jack.

  This was bad news. Incredibly bad news. Train-off-the-rails bad news. It meant Cora had no bargaining chip.

  “You’d do that? You’d give up when you’re so close?”

  Viv hesitated, then nodded.

  “If you destroy Jack’s dream, you may as well call it quits. He’ll never forgive you.”

  She shrugged in that elegant way of hers. “I’ll survive.”

  “He’s making this work, Viv. What if you make a positive difference this week? A difference that gives the team the added boost they need? How would you feel…inside…” Cora rubbed her chest with her fingers. “How would you feel to know he couldn’t have achieved his dream without you?”

  Viv’s gaze hardened. “You’re trying to pull that Rules bullshit on me.”

  “I’m not.” She had been. Shit. It hadn’t worked. “I’m on your side, Viv. Not only do we have a contract, but we have a friendship, right?”

  Viv didn’t confirm their friendship or deny it. “Coach Parker mentioned a trade. I want to trade Evan Oliver. You know more about basketball contracts than me. What do I need to do?”

  Chapter 22

  “Can I talk to you in private?” Thirty minutes after their blow-up, Cora appeared at Trent’s side in the practice gym.

  “More bad news? So soon? Wasn’t the loss of venue enough?” Trent and Jack were trying to shake up the NBA and play moneyball with Jack’s limited funds. Could they afford more players with four months of reduced ticket sales? Uh, no. Trent may have granted Cora a chance, but he was still mad. “Has FrankenViv run berserk among the villagers?”

  Ignoring his comment, Cora led him to the side of the gym. The squeak of plastic soles and the bounce of balls on hardwood offered them privacy.

  Cora crossed her arms beneath her chest, a comfort hug, an “I don’t like what I’m about to say” wrap-around. “Viv just asked me how to trade Evan.”

  Someone must have kicked the backs of Trent’s knees, for he swore those joints buckled. The yank of gravity nearly knocked him on his ass. “Hell, no.” He couldn’t win without Evan. The small forward was the one piece he couldn’t replace. That wasn’t the trade Trent and Jack had discussed.

  “I know.” Cora spared her brother-in-law a glance filled with remorse. “He loves this team. Being traded will kill him.” She gazed up at Trent with dark, watery eyes.

  He resisted the urge to draw her close. She wanted to be part of the team? She had to get used to the idea of change. “What did you tell Vivian?”

  “I lied.” Cora’s gaze dropped to her pointy, sexy heels. “I told her there was a six-month rider on the contract extension and he couldn’t be considered for a trade until mid-December.”

  Trent wanted to kiss her feet. “She’ll call legal to confirm. She doesn’t trust you.”

  “I’m getting a lot of that lately.” Her gaze strayed to the court. “I had Nina talk to the legal department. I don’t know how long they can dodge Viv, but they fear Jack more than they do his wife.” She seemed to see the basketball team for the first time. “They’re dragging. Look at Ren. He needs a pep talk.”

  But before he could argue, be
fore she took a step, Vivian claimed Ren for herself.

  ~*~

  Hell had no fury like a millionaire’s wife scorned.

  Vivian was going to tear down the team one player at a time. She waved Cora away. She’d been around the Flash for two years. She knew their hang-ups, their insecurities, their physical weaknesses. She had less than a week to bring the Flash down. Then if Jack didn’t want her, she’d sign the divorce papers and move on.

  To what?

  She’d think about the future when she was clear of the Flash. For now, she had more damage to wreak.

  “Ren, you must be happy that we signed Hugh Irving.” Viv sat down next to the seven-foot center. He was so large she felt like a child’s doll next to him. “How old are you?”

  “Nearly thirty.” Ren’s eyebrows stretched toward his dark hairline.

  “So old.” She patted his thigh. Eew. It was sweaty. She wiped her hand on her skirt. “I know these pre-season workouts have been hard on you. With Hugh Irving on the team, you’ll have lots of chances to rest on the bench.”

  Ren blinked at her as if he was having trouble translating the meaning of her words.

  “From what I’ve seen of Hugh, he’s good. And so young. He left college after his junior year.” So what if it took him five years to graduate from high school?

  Ren’s eyes were huge saucers.

  “This is a young man’s game.” Vivian stood and surveyed the team for her next victim. “Don’t you dare worry.”

  One of the young coaching assistants called Ren back to play. Across the court from her, Trent Parker’s father studied her with a scowl on his face.

  Antoine Watson dribbled on the sidelines near her. He was a favorite of the ladies on the nightclub scene and had a dark shiner.

  “Antoine, honey. Come here.” Vivian hitched her hip and crooked her finger.

  He tucked the ball beneath his arm and strutted over, not quite meeting her gaze.