Hot Property

by Carly Phillips

  “Amy, are you okay in there?” Roper knocked on the bathroom door, startling her back to reality.

  “Fine! I’ll be out in a sec.” She brushed her teeth with minty toothpaste and one finger before drawing a deep breath and heading out to face him again.

  He’d slipped on a royal-blue Renegades sweatshirt and a pair of Nike sneakers.

  No less handsome, she thought, holding back a frustrated frown.

  He grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  He narrowed his gaze. “Where do you think? I’m taking you home.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. It’s broad daylight now.”

  “And I’ll feel better knowing that your doorman is willing to let you inside the apartment without your key.” His tone left no room for argument. Neither did the fact that he picked up a garment bag in which he’d obviously hung her outfit. He handed her shoes to her and waited while she slipped them on.

  “I feel silly,” she muttered as she followed him into the hall.

  “Adorable,” he corrected her. Placing one hand on her back, he led her to the elevator. A moment later, the door opened and they stepped inside.

  People joined them at various floors, leaving no time for conversation, and Amy was relieved. She tried not to feel as if she was sneaking out of a man’s apartment in last night’s clothes, but she wasn’t a pro at this. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t slept with him, she was embarrassed, anyway. She couldn’t help but feel people were looking at her—and him—and staring.

  Because John was famous in this city and was certainly well known in his own apartment building, Amy figured it wasn’t her imagination, nor was she being paranoid. By the time the elevator came to a halt on the ground level, she practically ran toward the revolving doors.

  Roper watched Amy teeter on those silly heels, which made her look both sexy and cute at the same time. He wanted to yell out and tell her they could take his car instead of a cab, but he figured that would call even more attention to her, something she obviously didn’t want.

  He could understand her need to escape. She wasn’t used to strangers gawking at her the way he was. Since most women—heck, all the women he’d dated up until now—liked the fact that being with him put them in the spotlight, this was but another facet of her personality that made Amy unique. And special.

  Ironically he was more convinced than ever that he’d done the right thing by not having sex with her last night. Now she would appreciate his sense of decency. No matter how hard it had been and how much sleep it had cost him.

  Instead of following her through the revolving doors, he hit the handicapped automatic door and caught up with her outside on the sidewalk.

  Just in time for the paparazzi to greet them with flashing lightbulbs and microphones shoved into their faces.

  ROPER FENDED OFF THE vultures by answering their questions about who had spent the night in his apartment with deliberately chatty nonanswers, giving Amy time to escape.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her flag and get into a yellow cab before the press could stop her. He still held on to her clothes but decided not to worry about that now. No matter how hard he prodded, nobody in the group of reporters was willing to divulge their source or tell him why they’d chosen this morning to stake him out. It made no sense. Despite his recent notoriety, he was small-time news for a New Year’s Day morning.

  Eventually he returned to his apartment, which felt emptier somehow without Amy in it, and he spent the day watching Bowl games with some teammates who showed up uninvited. He was grateful for the company and even ordered pizza as a show of goodwill. He might have cooked to impress Amy, but the guys could damn well eat takeout.

  He called her to apologize and to make sure she’d gotten home okay, but her voice recording picked up. He didn’t know whether she was deliberately not answering the phone or if she had plans for the day. He left a message along with his number.

  She never returned his call, which left him feeling surprisingly bummed out.

  He awoke the next day, a Tuesday, feeling as if he’d never slept at all. Not a good sign. He’d hoped the coming year would be kinder than the last.

  He had a meeting with Micki scheduled at the Hot Zone offices that morning—at her request. He figured he could pump her for information about Amy then. Roper hadn’t wanted to bother her yesterday, because he knew how rare her time with her husband and daughter actually was. After his New Year’s Day incident with the press, Roper could understand the appeal of solitude.

  “Maybe I ought to buy myself an island,” he muttered. “Oh, that’s right, I can’t. I’m frigging cash poor and tapped out.” Okay, he knew that was an exaggeration.

  He’d made damn good investments with his money and had prepared for the future from day one of his first big contract. He never wanted to be one of those athletes who pissed away their money and were left with nothing to show for it after their successful career was over. But his family was spending cash like water and he was the spout. He had no choice but to keep an eye on things—in case his career ended sooner than planned. He rubbed his shoulder and hoped the rehab and physical therapy would do the trick.

  He finished his cappuccino, brewed in a state-of-the-art machine he’d bought last year, and decided he couldn’t wait to meet with Micki later this morning. He picked up his cell phone, needing to talk to his best friend now.

  Roper wanted nothing more than some basic information on how to win Amy over. Who better than Micki, who’d rented Amy her apartment, to fill him in?

  Roper already figured a girl like Amy might be intimidated by his status and celebrity. Last night he’d questioned the wisdom of getting involved with her once he’d discovered she was living and working in New York. One evening in her company had shown him how different she was from the other women he’d dated. He could no longer just walk away. He was determined to show her he was worth the hassle that came along with him, because he realized they could have a good time together.

  And Roper believed in good times. Man, he could use some….

  THE WOMAN LOOKED SPOOKED, he thought, watching as she ducked into the nearest cab, running from the paparazzi he’d notified. She wore sweats, a sweatshirt and high heels. A ridiculous combination, he thought. Just as ridiculous as the fact that her outfit from last night still dangled from Roper’s hands. He snickered. It’s about time Roper looked ridiculous.

  He intended to make sure the media continued to know where Roper was and when, keeping him in the news, maintaining the negative press.

  Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he turned and walked down the street, away from the luxury building. He had no doubt the swarm of paparazzi would continue to circle and create trouble for John Roper.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NEW YEAR’S DAY in a new town was a bummer, Amy thought, staring at the walls of her small apartment. She could pass the day alone, cooped up inside, or she could brave the cold and hit the department stores. She’d already gone shopping with Sophie and Annabelle for a new work wardrobe, but she still needed heavy sweaters and clothes for the change in climate. Even if shopping hadn’t been a necessity, keeping busy was. Anything to stop her from thinking about John Roper and the media circus that was a part of his life.

  She could fall hard for the man, that much she knew. Never mind that he had one hot body and he’d singed her with kisses that left her wanting more. He was sensitive and he cared for his family, he cooked, for goodness’ sake, and he’d decorated his own apartment. Yet what should be a perfect start to a possible relationship wasn’t. Everything about John Roper and his life was detrimental to her goals and needs.

  She’d grown up with a father who instilled in her the need to make a difference in the world, and her short career as a social worker had been a sure way of doing just that. She understood she was idealizing her dad, but even her mother always spoke of what a good man he’d
been. Make your father proud, Amy. She’d tried.

  She’d failed.

  She’d been let go from her job as a social worker for the state because her mother’s antics, captured in the paper with Amy by her side, contradicted the necessary level of decorum her boss insisted went with her job. Instead of looking for other employment, she’d moved back home and taken the position of social director at her mom and aunt’s retirement community to watch over them. Surely her father had been nodding in approval over that move.

  Her dad had been a stabilizing influence in Rose Stone’s life, but after he died, she’d gotten more wild. Uncle Spencer had never tried to control his sisters. They were extremely close to him, as was Amy, but he believed in letting people make their own mistakes. Besides, considering he lived in New York, Amy knew there wasn’t much he could do even if he’d tried. So Amy had stepped in, taking over where her father had left off. She could be stern when she needed to be, and she’d had things in Fort Lauderdale well in hand.

  She’d bailed her mother and aunt out of the local jail more times than she could count for being a public nuisance. From raucous parties to turning the water in the fountain in the local mall pink in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Amy’s mother and aunt had indulged in an array of bad behavior.

  The only reason none of the arrests had resulted in anything more serious than a warning, a fine or community service was because their local judge had a crush on Aunt Darla and Rose baked for the police officers, allowing them to avoid the greasy doughnut shops during their downtime. Amy wasn’t a complete stick-in-the-mud and she did find her relatives amusing at times, but she’d always had to be the rational one, the savior. Like Roper, she was the responsible caretaker of the group.

  But she had the chance now to make a career for herself even if it wasn’t a world-changing job. She needed to make herself, her mother and, by extension, her late father, proud.

  Amy sighed and shook her head. She hated being the center of attention, which was why she was so thrilled to be working at the Hot Zone. She’d be the person behind the celebrity. Even if she wanted to give a relationship or even an affair with Roper a chance, his lifestyle demanded anyone in his personal sphere succumb to the media attention. And that was something she wasn’t willing to be a part of, especially in the big way his life demanded.

  She’d just have to push her intense feelings for the man aside in favor of focusing on work and creating a life for herself here in New York.

  With one last glance at the answering machine holding his phone number and the recording of his husky voice asking her to call him, she grabbed her purse and headed for the stores instead.

  THE DAY AFTER NEW YEAR’S, Amy sat in the conference room of the Hot Zone offices. All seats around the table were filled and she fidgeted in her seat, ready to begin.

  Yank cleared his throat. “The weekly meeting of the Hot Zone and Athletes Only will now come to order.” He slammed his gavel down on the table, missing the rubber padding made to cushion the blow. The wooden hammer hit the conference table and Amy felt the vibrations rippling throughout her body. She jumped up from her seat, then discovered she was the only one who had. Micki, Annabelle, Sophie, Lola and even her uncle Spencer had already slid their chairs back, away from the table in anticipation of Yank’s move.

  Amy’s cheeks burned as she lowered herself slowly back into her chair.

  “Sorry. We should have warned you he has no aim.” Micki, tanned from her time on the island, re-settled herself in her chair and the rest of the group did the same.

  “And he doesn’t care that he’s scarring an expensive table,” Sophie added.

  “Stop talkin’ about me like I’m not in the room,” Yank muttered. “I’m the one in charge. The meeting’s been called to order. As you all can see even if I can’t, we have a new member of the team. Amy, we’re happy to have you.”

  “Thank you,” Amy said, touched.

  “No thanks necessary,” Annabelle said.

  “Besides, change is good.” Lola patted Yank’s hand.

  “Even if it means I’m getting older and blinder?” he asked.

  “Even then,” Lola said softly.

  “Amen,” Uncle Spencer said, probably because he was aging along with his friend, something Amy preferred not to think about too long or too hard.

  She remained silent instead, sensing it was the wrong time to interrupt. Even the three sisters remained quiet, letting Yank be comforted by his wife.

  Of course the silence didn’t last long. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Yank asked, all bluster once more. “First order of business. Michelle?” he asked, calling Micki by her given name.

  The first half hour of the meeting consisted of a run-through of current clients, assignments and status updates, along with banter most often begun or finished off by Yank. Amy found the dynamic interesting, considering the family-run business operated smoothly despite it all.

  “Now, on to the new assignments,” Yank said.

  “Amy, we have your first client all lined up,” Micki said. “After Spencer came to us with the idea of hiring you, one of the things that impressed us most was your organizational ability. After all, you’ve spent the past few years single-handedly running the activities at a retirement community where the older residents are cantankerous at worst and difficult at best.”

  Amy couldn’t hold back a laugh. “That’s a better description than any I could have come up with.”

  “Hey, are you picking on us old folks?” Yank asked.

  Uncle Spencer rolled his eyes. “It takes one to know one.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Yank said to his best friend.

  Annabelle rose from her seat. “Grow up, both of you! Micki, go on.”

  Sophie and Lola applauded while Annabelle re-seated herself.

  “Okay, as I was saying, when this assignment came in, we immediately chose you because of your ability to micromanage.”

  “I’m grateful for your faith in me.” Amy rubbed her hands together, the idea of digging into her new job exciting her. “So tell me more.”

  Micki nodded. “We have a client, a baseball player, who is having serious career issues and who needs to focus completely on both the game and on his life. Unfortunately he has family complications that are distracting him.”

  Amy shook her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were talking about John Roper,” she said, without really meaning it.

  But every last person at the table turned their gaze her way.

  Oh, no, Amy thought. Not Roper. Somehow she managed not to say the words aloud. She couldn’t. Whoever the client was, Amy had no choice but to accept him with a smile. It was her first day, her first assignment, and she could not afford to act like a prima donna.

  “So it is John Roper?” Amy asked.

  All heads at the table nodded.

  “Okay, then.” She pasted on her brightest smile. “At least it’s someone I already know.” Thank goodness nobody at the table knew just how well she’d almost come to know Roper.

  “That’s what we thought,” Micki said, obviously pleased with the business pairing.

  “Although, if you aren’t comfortable…” Sophie’s voice trailed off, her offer clear. The other woman obviously sensed now, as she’d indicated at the party the other night, that Amy’s history with Roper might make it uncomfortable for her to work with him.

  Amy shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Nobody at the table knew she’d spent the night at Roper’s place New Year’s Eve.

  A knock sounded on the conference-room door and her uncle Spencer’s secretary, Frannie, walked in. “I’m sorry for interrupting but I have news that can’t wait.”

  “Come on in and let’s hear it,” Annabelle said, gesturing with her hands. “Something juicy, I hope?”

  Micki leaned over and whispered to Amy. “Frannie gets the morning papers and fills us in with anything we need to know about our clients that the
press got their teeth into first.”

  “Got it,” Amy said, nodding.

  “You, my dear, have arrived.” Frannie strode over to Amy, taking her by complete surprise. “Photograph and articles.”

  “Excuse me?” Amy asked, confused.

  “Page Six in the New York Post!” Frannie exclaimed.

  “Get out! What are you holding back?” Annabelle asked Amy. At the same time, Micki snatched the paper from Frannie’s hands and began riffling through it.

  The other woman, Amy noticed, had a second copy beneath her arm.

  “What is on Page Six?” Amy finally managed to ask.

  “Only the premier source of celebrity gossip in New York City,” Lola pointed out, her voice calm in the midst of the sisters’ excitement.

  Amy thought she might throw up. “Celebrity?” A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as the memory of the flashing cameras outside Roper’s apartment came back to her, more vivid than ever.

  “Liz Smith and Cindy Addams’s columns are featured there,” Sophie said. “What does it say about Amy?”

  “Quit keepin’ it to yourself,” Yank ordered.

  Their curiosity piqued, everyone seemed oblivious to Amy’s anxiety. Everyone except her uncle Spencer, who glanced at her through worried eyes.

  Micki began to read aloud. “What troubled Renegades player needs a distraction from his problematic moves on the field? On New Year’s Eve, hottie John Roper forgot his troubles with a lady friend who is surprisingly not of the garden-variety sexpots he normally dates. Who is she and is it serious? Considering this photo was taken outside Roper’s apartment building on New Year’s Day and the woman was wearing very comfortable clothes, anything is possible. Stay tuned.”

  At least they hadn’t mentioned her by name, Amy thought.

  “Anything else?” Annabelle asked.

  She wanted more?

  “The Daily News picked up the piece and ran with it.” Frannie pushed her glasses farther up on her nose and began to read. “‘John Roper is numbing his pain in the arms of a woman. Amy Stone, a Florida transplant and the newest member of the Hot Zone team, was caught sneaking out of his apartment building New Year’s Day wearing nothing more than sweats and high heels from their aborted soiree at the Hot Zone the night before. A new year, a new relationship and maybe a renewed career. I say, “Go for it, Johnny!”’”