Antoine hesitated. “But – ”
“Four hundred!”
~*~
“Can I talk to you for a minute, Miss Rule? Outside?” Trent met Cora at the gym entrance as she returned from her rounds with other clients.
Hip-hop music blared through speakers as players worked on individual shots.
Cora followed Trent into the hallway. He led her into his office, closed the door behind her, then locked it.
Her heart gave an anticipatory ka-thump. “Given our history with locked doors, you probably shouldn’t have done that.”
He took a step toward her, hunger in his eyes. “You weren’t here when I needed you. We were invaded by Vivian’s evil minions.”
She gave him a once over. “I don’t see any scars.”
“I need you to say here and now.” He could have reached for her. The room was that small. His arms that long.
She held up a hand. “People will suspect something is up if we’re in here too long.” And she returned to the gym looking thoroughly kissed, because Trent didn’t do anything in half measures.
He shrugged. “I said I wanted to date you, not run around on the Q.T. Most of the guys have guessed we’re dating anyway.”
Her heart started pounding a bit faster. She glanced at the window that faced the hallway. He wasn’t thinking this through. And she wasn’t ready for whatever he was about to say. “Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be. A new job, a new team, and a new girl?”
His stare was smokin’ hot and aimed at her. “Kiss me.”
She shook her head. “One of us needs to keep an eye on the ball. Your day is over in another hour. I’ll kiss you then.”
He’d tried letting her lead. He’d tried demanding. She wasn’t surprised that he tried something new. “The day Irving arrived, when I saw him coming onto you, I wanted to knock him down.”
Men. So predictable. She wanted Trent to take back the words that made her feel like a possession. Suddenly, she was tired, tired of practice dating and pretending she could be in a normal relationship. She was tired of trying to figure out her emotions and not hurt his. Sex was simple. Relationships were exhausting. “Why didn’t you knock him on his ass, Trent?”
His brows didn’t draw down at her end-of-my-rope tone. “Because I knew you could take care of yourself, sugar, even with a brute like him.”
Something inside Cora shifted and broke open. Instead of being tired, she was energized. Instead of being confused, everything was clear. He knew who she was. He, of all the men she’d had sexual relationships with, knew what she needed.
She threw herself into his arms and kissed him. It wasn’t a kiss born of anger, or the heat of passion. It was a kiss of one soul acknowledging its connection to another. Her entire body seemed to be floating, but not up. It floated toward him.
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me,” she murmured a few minutes later, gazing into his eyes.
He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I don’t want to own you, sugar, or to have casual sex whenever the urge strikes. You’re an intriguing woman when you’re not annoying me.”
She nipped his lip. “Now who’s talking too much? Shut up and kiss me again.” He could take her here, in the corner of the office where no one passing by in the hallway could see. She undid a button on his polo.
Trent captured her hands. “You keep too many people at a distance.”
“Like you?” She tried to free her hands, plotting where to put them next. But his hold was tight. She snuggled closer, encouraging his hips into a promising rhythm.
“Thank, God, not me.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s the strangest thing. As a life coach you have boundaries, and yet you make each person feel loved.”
“Loved?” She stopped moving. No man ever spoke the “L” word willingly. He may know her, but if this was his segue to a conversation about love…she wasn’t ready. He’d want to know things, like how many men had come before him, what positions she’d tried, and how well he measured up to her past. He wouldn’t understand that she’d never met anyone like him and couldn’t compare him to anyone she’d been with before.
“Ren said he was going to marry you.” Trent’s crooked smile teased as much as his words.
He didn’t realize she didn’t joke about love. “Ren says he wants to marry every woman he meets.” What was he doing? Where was this heading?
“Antoine tells you all his love-life secrets.” He clasped her hands over his heart.
“Antoine brags about his love life to anyone who’ll listen.”
“And then there’s me.”
“You?” Her heart was pounding now, pounding its way out of her chest toward his. In hope. In confusion. In fear. Fear that she’d never live up to his expectations. No man had ever said he loved her. She doubted no man ever would, not and mean it in the long term, forever kind of way.
“You make me feel like you’ve got my back.” His face clouded over. “I know you think I’m too old-fashioned and probably too old for you – ”
“Hold that thought Rip Van Winkle.” She held him at arm’s length. “What’s going on here? We’ve barely started to…to…date and you’re talking about feelings.”
“You’re right.” He gave her space, sitting on the edge of his desk. “I haven’t asked you out. I’d like to take you for ice cream after we watch game film tonight.”
How much hokier could he be? Hokey was sweet and sweet led to commitment and commitment scared her.
“Don’t be scared.” It was eerie how he read her mind.
His words didn’t comfort her. “My Dad…My Mom…They dated. They married. All their relationships ended up in a tangled heap.” Love turned to hate. She didn’t want that with Trent. She wanted great sex, good times, and fond memories without regrets.
Each of their phones buzzed with text messages.
“That’s fear talking. Say yes.” He reached for his cell, but didn’t look at the message. He was waiting for her response.
She swallowed. “Check your phone, Reverend. It could be important.”
He wanted to look. His eyes drifted in that direction. But he held out. “Not until you say yes.
Her brain was muddled on overload. There was danger here. Trent couldn’t understand the lifestyle she’d only recently given up. How could this possibly work?
“You won’t regret it,” he added.
Desire and loneliness ganged up on self-preservation. “Yes.” She regretted it already.
He kissed her forehead and went back to practice.
Lingering in his office, Cora sighed and checked her phone. Portia’s text read: I need you.
She called her former best friend.
“I don’t have a date for tonight’s Women’s Gala Fashion Show and my assistant just went home with the flu.”
Cora was flipping through her mental Rolodex of men when Portia surprised her by adding, “Come with me.” Portia didn’t wait for an answer. “I know you still have that Zuhair Murad in your closet. It’s only from last winter.” Being Cora’s former best friend, she knew of the conditions of Dooley’s will and that Cora couldn’t buy anything new.
A fashion show. Cora was tempted. It was work, a legitimate reason to cancel her ice cream date.
It wasn’t ice cream that scared her. Nor the possibility of great sex. It was the possibility of intimate discussions and that they’d run into another relationship road block.
“Of course, I’ll go if you need me.” It only took her a few seconds to compose a text canceling her date.
~*~
Cora had texted Trent that she was needed elsewhere for work and wouldn’t be at game film night. When he texted her back asking about ice cream, she’d replied: Rain check.
He couldn’t spend time over-analyzing her answer. She had responsibilities and the kind of job that required her to hold hands with athletes and celebrities at all hours of the day and night. Besides, t
he time had come to introduce innovation to the Flash.
He sent the athletes’ assistants and the Flash trainers out, closing practice to all but players and coaches.
“We’re trying a new multi-pronged offense. It may not work. Regardless, I don’t want to hear you’ve leaked it or posted it online,” he warned when the team circled round. “It’s a two minute rotation. We begin with our starters and our version of the Carolina break.” He wrote their initials on a small whiteboard imprinted with a basketball court. “At the two minute mark, we sub in Irving. Jablone comes out and Ren moves to the power forward spot.” He rubbed out some initials and wrote in others.
Ren mumbled something in another language, caught himself and said, “But – ”
“Hold your questions,” Randy said, grinning. “You’ll like this.”
“This loads up our power on one side of the court and our speed on the other, creating potential mismatches for us to take advantage of offensively. It’ll confound the defense. By the time they start to adjust and sub in big men, we’ll be subbing in for optimum speed.” Trent notated secondary guards’ initials over Ren and Irving’s positions. “I know we’ll miss some rebounds defensively because we’ll be shorter, but I want to run fast and hot – take good shots and cherry-pick the ball from their slower big men.”
“Is that all?” Evan was grinning now, too – a schoolboy, in-on-a-secret grin.
“No. After two more minutes, we’ll put in a complete bruiser line-up to wear them down defensively. And after two more minutes, we’ll put in our starters and run Chaos.”
“Chaos to the Nth degree,” Evan whispered reverently.
“Exactly. I want fifteen to thirty points out of the eight minute rotation.” Trent looked at the second string. “Second unit, I want you to start with man-to-man defense, then move to zone when the second rotation comes in. Run Triangle on offense.” He noted the second unit’s glum faces. “Hey, everybody’s going to get a chance for a spot in the various rotations. The more players we throw at the opposing team, the harder it’ll be for them to defend. Work hard and put the ball in the hole.”
And they did. They had fun with it, down to the last player. Even Irving. Randy and Berto toyed with player combos. Evan helped refine shot choice for different players. By the end of practice, Trent was pleased.
But it felt wrong that the bleachers were empty, missing one highly fashionable life coach.
~*~
“Cal, what a surprise.” Cora ignored the feeling of trepidation and arranged her sky blue, off-the-shoulder formal gown on the limo seat facing the movie producer. She hadn’t seen him since that day in the hospital cafeteria. And she certainly hadn’t told him she was behind his father’s change of room. “I hadn’t realized you were attending with Portia. She said she didn’t have a date.”
“I pay for seats every year.” Cal’s smile was lukewarm. His gaze was not. Dark circles no longer rimmed his eyes, but when he looked at her, they were far from kind. “It made sense that Portia and I would show up at the event together to combat the speculation about my support of her.”
Portia avoided Cora’s questioning gaze. She wore a classic, golden beaded gown. Her short, blond hair was swept to the side and held with a diamond studded comb.
During the drive, they exchanged pleasantries about nothing important, talking over the softly playing soundtrack from Cal’s last movie. Portia seemed distracted.
Finally, their limo inched forward toward the red carpet. Someone with a clipboard tapped on Portia’s door. The woman stuck her head in when Portia toggled the window down. She wore an ear piece and microphone. Her black polo had the Gossip network logo. “I’ve got Portia Francis, Cal Lazarus, and…” She glanced at Cora and pulled her head out. “Cora Rule. Do we care about Cora Rule?”
Portia tittered. “Sorry. I guess this isn’t the L.A. Happenings column.”
Cora’s fingers gripped her white satin clutch, while her lips grappled with a stiff smile. She’d dreamed of being recognized and looked up to in the fashion industry. She’d imagined pulling up at just such an event, and having people anticipating what she’d chosen to wear – one of her own designs, or something equally stunning from another designer? She didn’t want to get out of the car.
Portia was helped out by a good-looking greeter.
“Driver, circle one more time.” There was anger in Cal’s voice. Angry, powerful men did stupid things. Things that spooked Cora.
“Hold up, driver. We’re getting out.” Cora hitched up her skirt and made her escape without waiting for anyone’s help. She didn’t breathe until she caught up to Portia. She wasn’t afraid exactly, and she hated the idea that she was running away from Cal. It just seemed prudent.
Trent had faith she could take care of herself. That didn’t stop her from missing his calming presence by her side.
She smoothed her skirts and waited in Portia’s shadow, while the actress posed for pictures. Behind her, Cal posed for pictures solo, classy in a custom-fitted tuxedo.
Hundreds of voices crowded together as tightly as the paparazzi pressing against the barricades. Light bulbs flashed like a blinding lightning storm. The energy on the red carpet was just as electric. And yet, in her outdated gown, no one called for Cora’s picture.
When Portia was done, Cora took her arm and propelled her forward, like any good assistant would.
“Why aren’t you circling the block?” Portia’s question cut the last ties of friendship Cora felt for the actress.
Her grip on Portia’s arm tightened. “If this is a test for Cal or some idea you and he have for a three-way, I’m calling a cab.”
“Did someone say three-way?” Cal spoke in Cora’s ear.
Cora jumped. She hadn’t felt him come close to her. No one would think twice about his proximity. The fan and paparazzi noise made it necessary to stand close if you wanted to be heard by those in your party.
Cal hooked an arm around each of them and swept the pair up the red carpet to the second photo opp in front of the Women’s Gala logo board. Portia stepped forward to pose for more pictures.
“What’s up, Cal?” Cora asked with faux cheer.
“I could ask you the same question. I pay a substantial sum of money to have my father in a private room at the hospital.”
Cora didn’t deny she’d arranged for Cal’s father to have a certain Flash owner as a roommate. She’d known Cal would figure things out eventually. And she’d expected him to confront her about it. Just not in such a public venue. She glanced around nervously. What could he do to her here?
“He’s a crotchety, pain in the ass,” Cal was saying. “The doctors said he had six months to live over a year ago. Sometimes I think the only thing keeping him alive is a love of cigars.” He spared Cora a hard glance.
“He loves the company. Anyone can tell he’s a people person.”
“It’s prolonging his pain. If it wouldn’t look bad in the press, I’d sue you for meddling where you have no right.”
“I have every right.” Cora’s voice shook as if she was ten and climbing in the sparring ring once more with a bigger, more powerful opponent. “You signed a contract with the Dooley Foundation saying you were open to all our methods.”
“Did one of those methods include screwing me? If so, you’ve earned your retainer by screwing both my heads.” Portia moved on and Cal followed, taking Cora with him. When Cora tried to slip ahead of him, he wrapped his arms around her, bent her over backward and kissed her. The resulting flashes were blinding.
Play it all like it was planned, her father told her once when she’d asked him how he handled the media when things went wrong. Things had gone wrong for her father a lot. Jealous ex-girlfriends who tried to run him over. Angry clients who punched him out.
Oh, yeah. That last had been Cal.
Cora didn’t kiss Cal back. She didn’t bite his tongue off. And she didn’t scream bloody murder when he finally righted her. She thought about Trent and
his certain disappointment. She thought about Portia and revenge.
And then she smiled demurely, digging her fingernails into Cal’s palm as she tugged him forward. Without warning she swung around fast, as if she had something important to say to him, and walloped him in the nuts with her clutch. “That was for my dad.”
Cal gasped. His face turned white.
“You want to talk lawsuits? The texts you send could be construed as stalking. Now listen, and listen good, because you paid me to make you feel better.” She looked around, but no one was paying attention to them anymore. “I talked to your father that night you met me at the hospital. He said you were spending every night there with him. He said it’s affecting your work. He was worried about your health and so was I. You’ve changed since we met. And not for the better.”
He managed to glare at her.
She dug her nails deeper into his hand, dragging the limping producer forward. “Don’t set me up like this ever again, or it’ll be you strapped in that bed next to your father. I’ll do it. Don’t doubt I can’t.”
Trembling, she released Cal and air-kissed a shocked-looking Portia. She had to get out of there, before she lost it and did something really stupid, like call Trent to rescue her. “Suddenly, I feel rather sick, Portia. Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch a cab home.”
L.A. Happenings by Lyle Lincoln
…I swear, Cora Rule has become the most interesting rule-breaker of the bunch! She was just the right bait to corrupt the good Reverend, yummy Coach Trent Parker. Last night she was seen smooching movie producer, Cal Lazarus, at the Women’s Gala.
…No one seems to see Glitterfrost Gem anywhere but with Mimi Sorbet. And Mimi Sorbet is rarely seen anywhere lately. Although the pair was photo-bombed by the Flash. Or maybe Mimi and Glitterfrost Gem photo bombed them?
…Winnie Tiegler and her husband were seen out on the town the other night. It’s great to see a long-lasting couple looking great and obviously still in love. Anyone interested in a little nip and tuck would do well to collect a recommendation from this couple.
Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015 Page 28