by Kira Blakely
The girl with flaming red hair falling down her back wore a gorgeous purple dress. She picked up her skirt a little as she walked, and her head turned slightly from side to side as she looked at everything and everyone around her. And everyone was staring at her, too. Some with wonder, some with envy, but not with the same slack-jawed expression as mine.
She was so… beautiful.
No. Hot. She was hot. That’s what I meant. I don’t say beautiful. Beautiful led to all sorts of dangerous feelings I’d rather not have.
She was on a whole other level compared to the rest of the women there, and I needed to turn my game up a notch if I ever wanted to get under that big ass skirt.
I adjusted my suit and walked over to her with my usual swagger, my mouth already set up with the casual smirk all the ladies seemed to want, and tapped her on the shoulder.
She turned around, and her gorgeous emerald eyes stopped me in my tracks.
Why are those eyes so familiar?
***
Charlie
You know that feeling when the world suddenly stops turning? You can’t hear anything, but you feel every pair of eyes in the room staring at you?
That’s what I was feeling.
I had told the greeters who I was, but they must’ve been informed ahead of time because they didn’t say anything as they opened the doors for me. I looked around, but I couldn’t see my father anywhere. Even if I did manage to find him, I didn’t think he’d let me hang around with him for the rest of the party.
I was searching for the refreshments table when I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I turned around and Holy Jesus, this guy was huge. He was probably around 6’5” or so, but he wore a suit well. He was probably the only person there not wearing a tie, keeping the first two buttons of his shirt open and showing a sliver of skin. I gulped as I looked up to his face, and his mask did nothing to dampen the mischievous light from his ice-blue eyes, or hide the fact that he was so brutally handsome.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said softly, the velvety undertones of his voice making me a little heady and my heart skip a beat. I cleared my throat to answer him.
“I don’t really make a habit of going to parties,” I coolly replied, and his mouth formed a lopsided smirk that made him ten times more attractive.
“Yeah. Parties like this aren’t really my scene,” he agreed, and I could tell that he meant it. Judging from his size and strength, I’d think he wasn’t much for swanky soirees such as this one. Which begged the question…
“Then what are you doing here?” I asked.
“I’m an endorser. It’s written in my contract that I have to make appearances,” he answered truthfully. “Are you under contract, too?”
I bit the inside of my lip. “Something like that,” I answered vaguely.
He narrowed his eyes but didn’t ask me to elaborate, and I gave him a point for that one. The music started playing, and I saw people breaking off into pairs to dance.
Mr. Mysterious cleared his throat and raised his hand toward me. “Care to dance?”
“I’m not much of a dancer,” I admitted, recalling how my dancing lessons these past few weeks crashed and burned.
“That’s not a problem. I’m pretty good at dancing,” he said confidently.
I raised my eyebrows, incredulous. I highly doubted that.
“You know, if you don’t want to dance here, we could go and hang out somewhere else, and I could guarantee it’ll be extremely fun,” he said.
I winced and opened my mouth to reject him when he cut me off. “There are three guys currently making their way toward you to probably ask you the same thing, and I’m sorry, but I don’t want to stop talking with you just yet.” He took my hand, not bothering to wait for my answer, and proceeded to pull me to the dance floor.
He wrapped his arm around my waist firmly while he held my hand with the other, and I placed my other hand on his arm, unable to turn my head away as he stared straight into my eyes. I tightened my grip on his arm involuntarily, and he pulled me closer to him.
He took a step back and then we were dancing, gliding, and swaying to the beat of the song. I had been afraid of the possibility of making a fool out of myself by stepping on his feet or missing a step, but it never happened. I was going to look down at my feet to make sure that I really wasn’t messing up, but a gentle squeeze on my waist kept me from doing it.
“Trust me,” he whispered, and I realized that I did trust him to lead me.
“Okay,” I said, and he smiled.
“I promise I’ll take your mind off everything, just for a little while,” he said, his voice low and sexy, making me raise an eyebrow at him.
“Oh, really?” I said, going under his arm as he twirled me away from him. I was smiling at him now, curious whether he could really pull off what he was promising to do. He had the same teasing smirk on his face now, and something was tickling the back of my mind. I recognized that smirk from somewhere else, but I couldn’t remember.
“Oh, is that a challenge?” he asked, as he pulled me back in his arms before sending me out for another spin.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
His eyes twinkled, and he pulled me back to his arms sharply, making my back hit his chest with a jolt.
“If I succeed, I want a reward,” he said, holding me in place.
“What do you want?” I couldn’t help but ask him, and I caught my breath as I felt his arms wrap around me tightly and we slowly bent our knees. He bent low, his lips brushing on the shell of my ear.
“Your name,” he whispered.
His right hand squeezed my waist again as his left spread and he ran his fingers up my stomach slowly, inching dangerously closer and closer to my breasts as we rose.
“I don’t give my name out to random strangers,” I said, trying to stall him. “If you force me to say it, I might just run away.”
He chuckled and turned me back around to face him, pulling me closer to him so that I was pressed up against his chest, waves of heat rolling off him, into my body, and going down between my thighs. I gasped at the heat of his stare, unable to look away from him.
“You can run all you want. I love the chase,” he whispered hotly, and I shivered.
“I feel like I’ve met you before,” he said, his eyes clouding up and his breath caressing the side of my face.
I tilted my head as I stared at him in confusion. To be honest, I felt the same way about him, and I had been wondering where or when I’d seen him before.
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Just do,” he answered.
I smiled. “Maybe I’ve just got that kind of face,”
“Or maybe you feel the same and you’re being this way on purpose. It’s okay, though.” he said. The song was reaching its end, and I realized that he was about to win the challenge. His eyes snapped somewhere behind before looking at me again. “I don’t mind introducing myself first.”
I heard a voice in the background saying it was time to take the masks off, and I felt his hand caress my cheek, forcing me to look up at him.
His hand felt warm as we stared at each other, and I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, making me blush. He raised his hand up and wrenched his mask away from his head, and my eyes widened as I looked at the face of Sean West, the man who’d almost killed me a couple of weeks ago. The man I’d been seriously crushing on since I saw him play for the first time. The man who’d been making my heart beat so hard and fast for the last couple of minutes while he held me in his arms.
***
Sean
I didn’t know why I felt nervous as I raised my hand and placed it on her mask, but I was comforted by the fact that it wasn’t just me who felt this way, judging from the way she was slightly shaking as I held her.
I felt a weight press on my toe, and I looked down to see that she had stepped on me a second before the song finally ended. I looked at her in disbelief, and she smiled
in triumph.
“Game over,” she whispered, and then it clicked. Before she could protest, I pushed her mask up and over her head so I could finally see her face, and my eyes widened.
“You’re her,” I whispered. She was the girl I almost ran over that day. Everything finally clicked when she stepped on me, making me remember how she’d stomped on my foot in anger the first time we met. “Who are you?” I asked, but she shook her head.
“I won,” she reminded.
“I don’t care,” I replied, desperation creeping into my voice. “Tell me.”
“May I cut in?” a voice said, and I turned my head toward the interloper, annoyed. My eyebrows rose in surprise as I realized it was Parker, holding his hand out and asking her to dance. I didn’t know why he was there, but I didn’t like it.
“No, you may not,” I answered, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her against me.
“Excuse me, but who’s on my dance card is none of your business,” she said, pulling away from me and taking Parker’s hand. They started to walk away from me before I grabbed her hand.
“A name. Please. Give me that, and I won’t bother you again tonight,” I said.
“Don’t–” Parker started.
“Charlie,” she said, and then she was pulled away from me again. I watched her go this time, and I clenched my fists as Parker pulled her close. There was something heavy weighing on my chest suddenly, but I chalked it up to heartburn. It was probably from all the steaks I ate earlier.
“Charlie, huh?” I muttered under my breath. I had to admit, I didn’t peg her as the type to wear such fancy dresses the first time we met. And her name didn’t match how she looked at all, but I didn’t peg her as a liar, either.
She didn’t turn my way again, but that didn’t matter. Now that I had her in my sights, I wasn’t about to forget her anytime soon. The little time we’d talked hadn’t told me she was interested, but she hadn’t exactly said she wasn’t interested, either. And even if she wasn’t, I’d find a way to change her mind soon enough.
Chapter Nine
Sean
The flashing lights from all the cameras were making it hard for me to see, so I turned my head away and settled deeper into my seat, distracting myself with thoughts of Charlie.
The team was being interviewed about the coming draft, asking if Coach had an eye on anyone in particular to join the roster next year. I didn’t understand why we had to be there since most of the questions were directed toward Coach, but an order was an order.
It was Parker’s turn to answer a question, and I couldn’t stop myself from glaring at him. He’d been too close to Charlie the other night for my liking, and I was surprised by how they never left each other’s side even after their dance ended. I had considered asking whether he knew her personally already, but I hated the guy, so I didn’t.
I saw Coach Finnegan look at me, and I realized that one of the reporters had asked me a question. I smiled and asked her to repeat it.
“You played really well in the last game, and many are hoping that you will perform just as well, if not better, against the Bengals. Do you have any strategies cooked up for this Sunday or will you be treating it like any other game?” she asked.
I scoffed at how ridiculous her question was. “Come on, Ma’am. I’m sure you already figured out by the last game that I am the player keeping this team afloat,” I said, and I felt most of my teammates tense up. I plowed on, ignoring the change in the atmosphere. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that I’m the best player here! So, if you’re asking me what kind of strategy we need to win over the Bengals, that’s easy. Keep giving me the ball. My touchdowns alone are enough to take us all the way to the top.”
The reporter smiled and said thanks, and I leaned back in my seat again, trying to relax. None of my teammates looked at me. Well, screw them. If they were getting pissed off because I told the truth, they should support me and play harder. I closed my eyes, not caring what the reporters thought, and fell asleep.
***
I was benched. Fucking benched!
What the hell was Coach thinking, benching me? The Bengals were leading, and the team wasn’t pulling their weight. They fucking needed me over there!
“Coach, let me in,” I said, and he ignored me. “Coach, come on. They’re getting creamed out there!” I yelled at him.
“You need to learn how to work with the team, West. You can’t win if you play alone. There is no ‘I’ in team,” he said.
“Okay, I get that. I totally understand, Coach. I’m sorry. Now will you send me out?” I asked.
He shook his head. “You have to learn your lesson, West. Besides, even if I did send you out, no one is willing to play with you. And I don’t blame them for thinking that.” He nodded toward the bench, and I stomped back and planted my ass on it, still seething. I probably looked ridiculous – the self-proclaimed best player of the New York Giants warming up the bench. The cameras were probably loving it.
Okay, I admit I’d fucked up earlier when I said those things, but did they really have to go this far? I resigned myself to my fate and closed my eyes, waiting for the game to end.
Damn it, I hoped Charlie wasn’t watching me because I highly doubt she’d find this impressive.
***
Charlie
I wasn’t sure if Parker was mad at me or not, but we didn’t part on good terms after the party. He’d gotten really mad that I’d told Sean my real name, and I didn’t understand why.
“I told you to stay away from him, didn’t I?” Parker hissed at me, holding me so tight against him that it almost hurt.
“I didn’t know it was Sean until he took the mask off. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with getting to know him, right?” I said.
“You seem to have changed your tune after only one dance with him,” he grumbled.
“It’s not just the dance,” I immediately snapped, and we stopped dancing. We just stood there staring at each other until he dropped his hands from my waist and I stepped back.
“Do you still like him?” he asked, and I looked away. It was all the answer he needed, and he sighed. “You have other things to think about than that asshole. Just concentrate on that.”
We didn’t talk about anything else after that, though I didn’t leave his side for the rest of the party.
I stopped looking for my father after a while, and I only managed to spot Ariana talking to some guy in the corner. The guy was cute and smiling a lot, and he looked like he was really interested in her. I felt happy that she was getting along well with someone. I was starting to think that maybe there was hope for us to have a better relationship when, suddenly, her face changed and she ditched the guy in the middle of their conversation. The poor guy looked so confused and hurt. I felt so sorry for him and angry that Ariana could treat someone like that.
My resentment toward Ariana only intensified after the party, because she made it a point to join in on my training sessions and then brag about it during dinner time. Her mother would get this proud little smirk on her face and then ask me in that overly sweet voice of hers, “What about you, Charlotte? Did you learn anything today?” The bitch.
I did notice something, though. Although Ariana excelled in nearly every class I had, she never came to show herself off during my business classes or anything even remotely academic. At first, I figured she just thought she didn’t need to bother showing off in that aspect, but then I realized that whenever Father would pose a question that was related to the business, Ariana would mysteriously clam up, and Wilhelmina would answer.
Tonight’s dinner was no different, and Father posed another question. “Do you have any suggestions on increasing the PR for the new brand?”
I immediately turned toward Ariana, who kept her head down and played with her food. An evil idea popped into my head, and I decided to turn the tables on her for a change.
“Yeah, Ariana. I mean, you’ve been at this longer than I have, so I b
et you have something good,” I said innocently.
She glared at me before looking at Father nervously. “Oh, um, yes, well,” she stuttered, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
Father kept looking at her expectantly, while she looked toward her mother a few times, begging for help.
Wilhelmina immediately took the hint, rushing to answer my father’s question. “I think hosting another party would be a splendid idea, considering the amount of success we had from the masquerade. Don’t you think so, dear?”
“Hosting another party costs money. It would only serve to double our expenses, and no profit would come out of it,” I said, surprising everybody with my outburst. I was surprised by what I just said, too, to be honest.
My father got over his initial shock fast and turned toward me. “All right. What do you have in mind, then?” he asked, and I could feel Ariana start to glare a hole in my head.
I kept silent for a moment as I considered my answer. “We had famous celebrities at the last party wearing the designs, so why don’t we hold a semi-fashion show wearing those pieces, and then auction them off to the highest bidder? We wouldn’t be wasting any money reproducing clothes this way, and we can use the fact that their favorite celebrities wore the clothes to generate public interest. We could also tell them that those are limited edition pieces and hold off reproducing the designs until after a couple of months when the line officially hits the stores.”
The three people in the room all had varying reactions. Wilhelmina looked like something unsavory got stuck in her throat, Ariana was crushing the napkin with her hand as she leered at me, and my father had his hand tucked under his chin, contemplative. My hands felt clammy and sweaty as I waited for my father to say something, afraid that maybe I put my foot in my mouth in this one.
Finally, he raised his head. “I think your idea has merit. I shall have my secretary submit the plan to the accounting office and see if we can have it approved at the next meeting.”