Hot Property

Home > Other > Hot Property > Page 9
Hot Property Page 9

by Carly Phillips


  She could count on it.

  Once the check was paid, he walked her out of the restaurant and onto the street. To his surprise, they’d made it through the meal with only a few stares. No one asked for an autograph or bothered him with stupid questions, like how did it feel to single-handedly blow the series?

  He waited as she glanced up the street to locate her driver, then held the car door for her as she climbed inside. He had a physical-therapy appointment downtown so he declined a ride and sent her back uptown alone.

  But not before she promised she’d be in touch with a plan to help him reclaim his life. She believed she could fix things for him, and for the first time, he admitted to himself that he needed her to be right.

  He’d always been the one taking care of others. No one had ever given much thought to what he needed, not because they didn’t care, but because they knew he could take care of himself. Even though Amy was only doing what the Hot Zone paid her to do, he appreciated her efforts. He believed she’d do her best, although he had less faith in her ability to get his family under control. It wasn’t personal, nor was it a lack of belief in her abilities. He just knew his family, and short of doing their bidding, there was no denying them.

  But he was looking forward to seeing Amy try.

  HE CALLED IN THE TIP ABOUT Roper’s lunch at Sparks Steak House with the niece of Spencer Atkins. He supposed he ought to feel guilty about causing the guy trouble, but Roper’s life was already imploding. There was no reason not to help the process along by placing him squarely in the public eye.

  He wouldn’t want people to forget about Roper or his part in destroying the Renegades’ chances of winning the World Series. Not when the man was paid more than anyone else on the team to come up with the ultimate post-season win.

  Besides, wasn’t it time that the high-and-mighty realized how fragile fame and fortune were? Some people worked hard for their talent. Others thought it was their birthright. Roper was one of the entitled. He took what belonged to others without thought or care. Roper would soon learn otherwise.

  He hung up his disposable cell phone and tossed it in the trash. Nobody could trace this call. Celebrities and athletes showed up in papers and columns all the time, but he felt better covering his tracks. He wouldn’t want anyone to discover his grudge.

  Better to just help Roper’s fall from grace anonymously and enjoy the spectacle from a distance.

  AMY LEFT THE RESTAURANT on a euphoric high. She knew what she needed to do to help Roper and she had some ideas already to research and implement. On the way back to her office, she stopped by Micki’s and ran the plan by her, receiving a thumbs-up in return. She had her secretary following up on some of the coaching possibilities Roper had mentioned for his brother. She felt certain once each of his needy relatives was squared away, they’d leave Roper in peace, allowing him to get back to what he did best.

  All he needed was some organization, some direction and a firm, guiding hand. Her firm, guiding hand.

  She wished she could share her excitement with someone other than her boss, but she hadn’t made any real friends in the city yet. So she fell back on the familiar. She called her mother.

  Rose answered on the first ring. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Amy!” her mother said, clearly excited. “Darla, it’s Amy!”

  Amy could envision her yelling across the small kitchen even though her aunt was always within whispering distance.

  “Your aunt Darla sends her love,” her mother said.

  “Send mine back,” Amy said.

  “Darla, Amy sends her love right back,” Rose yelled.

  Amy smiled, a pang of homesickness hitting her despite the fact that she was exactly where she wanted to be. “How are things down South?”

  “Bo-o-o-r-ing. It’s been raining nonstop. We’ve seen all the movies playing in theaters. Twice.” Her mother let out a long-suffering sigh. “How are things with you?”

  “Pretty great.” Amy knew better than to tell her mother anything specific about John Roper or she’d be on the next flight out to matchmake. “I have my first client and things are really working out for me here.”

  “No need to thank me. I knew I was doing the right thing throwing you out of here,” her mother said smugly.

  “Need I remind you I left on my own?”

  “And I must tell you, your replacement is fantastic,” her mother said, ignoring her. “Better than fantastic. She’s organized daily bingo—for money.”

  Amy winced. Clearly the new director didn’t know what she was up against. “There’s too much cheating going on to use real prizes.” Amy had kept the prizes small and manageable, so nobody would win a jackpot at someone else’s expense.

  “You’re telling me. Marilyn Hornsby stole my card right out from under me and won a jackpot of one hundred and one dollars, the weasel,” Rose said.

  Her mother went on about the new director and the goings-on in the community. Amy missed them, but she definitely had more of a challenge here. And she couldn’t help feeling a sense of peace that came from not being in the center of her mother’s world. “I’ve really got to get back to work now,” she explained.

  Rose cleared her throat. “I understand. Just make sure your uncle Spencer isn’t working you to death or I’ll have to have a talk with him.”

  “Stay out of it,” Amy ordered.

  “Are you sure?” her mother asked.

  “Quite sure. I came here to get a life, not to have you meddle—I mean—interfere in mine. I know you mean well, but no thank you.”

  “Fine.” Her mother sniffed.

  Amy grinned. “Stay out of trouble and don’t give the new director a reason to quit,” Amy warned.

  “As if I can possibly cause any trouble. It’s boring here, I tell you. She’s running the place like a military base,” Rose whined.

  Amy laughed. “I thought she was wonderful.”

  “Wonderfully uptight,” her mother muttered, the truth coming out.

  Amy wasn’t surprised her mother had fibbed at first so Amy didn’t feel bad for leaving. Or maybe so she would. Knowing her mother, Rose figured if Amy thought the new director was so perfect, she’d get jealous and run home. She wouldn’t put anything past her mother.

  “Have you met any nice men?” Rose asked.

  “No one in particular.” She crossed her fingers as she lied.

  Another drawn-out sigh sounded over the phone line. “Leave it to my daughter not to meet men when she works for a sports agency loaded with hotties. Rich hotties.”

  Amy pinched the bridge of her nose. Definitely time to hang up. “My secretary’s calling me. I have to go. I love you, Mom. And I miss you.”

  “I love you, too. And we miss you. Don’t we miss Amy, Darla?”

  “We both miss you,” Rose said, blowing a loud, smacking kiss through the phone.

  Grinning, Amy hung up, and with her mood light, she went back to figuring out how to change John Roper’s life.

  AFTER ROPER LEFT AMY, he headed straight for the physical therapist’s. Taking her cue, he kept his cell phone and his Treo off, and sure enough, got through his physical-therapy appointment uninterrupted. He even fit a short gym session into the day. Amy’s solution worked well for him so far.

  But by the time he arrived back home, there were no less than half a dozen messages on his answering machine, most of them from his mother. Roper thanked God she lived long-distance or else his life would be more of a hell than it was now. In her messages, his mother managed to hit all of his buttons and he called her back immediately, feeling guilty for taking an entire afternoon to himself.

  That’s what he got for jumping into the role of man of the family too early in life. His parents’ affair had been hot, heavy and had petered out just as fast as it had started, leaving his mother pregnant in an era when women didn’t have kids out of wedlock. The beautiful starlet had turned to a man she’d thought would save her. Another impulsive decision, leading to the bir
th of his siblings. Ben and Sabrina’s father soon tired of living with his famous wife and took off, leaving Cassandra with three kids. Though Roper had been young, he’d taken charge. The family had come to rely on him, and he had been the decision-maker and fixer of everyone’s problems ever since.

  He called his mother back and left a message both at her home and on her phone, hoping that would buy him some peace until morning.

  Then he headed for a hot shower. As he stripped and flipped the water on hot, his thoughts turned to Amy, and he changed the temperature to icy cold instead. He wished that the effect she had on his body was all he liked about Amy, but in the short time he’d known her, he’d learned there was so much more. The take-charge attitude he hadn’t expected, the understanding of his relationship with his family, her pure determination to succeed in her new job that he could see in her eyes.

  Eyes that made him crazy with desire.

  He finished showering, dried himself and fell into bed, exhausted.

  What seemed like moments later, he woke to the sound of his doorbell ringing. His doorman had a list of approved people to let up, so his uninvited guest had to be someone he knew. A glance at the clock told him he’d crashed all night. It was morning.

  He reached for the nearest pair of jeans lying on a chair and made his way to the door. Without coffee, he wasn’t ready to see anyone.

  He glanced through the peephole and let out a groan. He especially wasn’t ready to deal with the woman standing impatiently on the other side. Cassandra Lee had arrived.

  CHAPTER SIX

  NO SOONER HAD ROPER OPENED his door than his mother barged right in. “Darling!” She presented her cheek for a kiss, which he dutifully gave.

  Then he stepped back and looked at her linen pants and blouse, obviously wrinkled from travel. “Did you tell me you were coming and I forgot?” he asked, knowing he’d done no such thing.

  She narrowed her gaze. “Don’t play games with me, John. You didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t return my e-mail or text messages, so I’m here.” She waved her hands around expressively, ending by cupping his cheek in her hand. “I was worried about you.”

  He narrowed his gaze, which didn’t take much since he was still half-asleep. But mentally, he was now wide-awake. That his mother loved him was fact. That she might have been concerned about his silence also might be true. But no way would she fly across the country just because he hadn’t picked up his cell phone.

  “What’s really going on?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what you mean. But I do need coffee.” She headed for the kitchen, leaving him no choice but to follow after her. “I took the red-eye and I’m exhausted,” she said, speaking with dramatic effect as she always did.

  She blamed her original drama coach. Roper blamed her love of drama.

  She made herself at home in his kitchen, looking through cabinets in her search for caffeine. Finally he took pity on her and opened the correct canister, removed the beans and ground them. Maybe once she had her coffee she’d tell him why she was really here.

  Out of habit, he switched on the radio and Buckley the Bastard’s voice sounded around him. Though he cringed, he believed in dealing with life as it came. He needed to know what was being said about him if he was to deal with it.

  He handed his mother a steaming mug. “So how was your flight?”

  “Long.” She wrapped her hand around the cup and sighed. “Then to add insult to injury, the airport lost my bags. Of course they promised they’ll deliver them as soon as they find them, but who knows when that will be.” His mother paused to take a sip of coffee. “Mmm. You always did have the touch.” She lowered herself into the nearest chair, obviously exhausted.

  But only one word rang in his ears. “Your bags? Plural?”

  “Well, yes, bags.” She tucked her set blond hair behind one ear, the shoulder-length strands somehow managing to look sophisticated on her and not at all too young despite her best attempt. “How else can I stay indefinitely unless I brought enough clothes? Although New York does have the best stores. Better than L.A., even, and that’s saying a lot. I think I’ll call my favorite personal shoppers and have them start putting things away for me,” she mused.

  “What do you mean, you’re staying indefinitely?” Roper felt a blinding headache coming on.

  She placed her cup down and stared at him as if he were the crazy one. “Darling, your sister is getting married and she needs her mother to help her. And of course, you’re going through a career crisis of your own.”

  “Thanks for reminding me,” he muttered.

  “Not to worry. Mother’s here.” She treated him to her brightest smile.

  That’s what he was afraid of.

  “This just in.” Frank Buckley’s voice spoke into the silence. “Guess who had lunch at Sparks Steak House yesterday? Nice that our friend John Roper has time for wining and dining his new lady when he should be getting ready for the season.” The man waited a deliberate beat. “But that’s a high-paid athlete for you. No sense of responsibility. The Buck Stops Here, folks.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Roper bristled at the report and accusation. “Who the hell called it in?” he asked.

  “It could have been anyone from a waiter to a patron,” his mother said, rising and putting her arm around him. “You know what it’s like to be a celebrity. You grew up under a microscope. Let it go.”

  He twisted his neck from side to side, releasing tension. He wished it was as easy as his mother said. “I just don’t like feeling as if my every move is being tracked and scrutinized,” he muttered.

  “It’s part of the life,” his mother said.

  “The difference between us is that you enjoy it. I just want to play baseball.”

  His doorbell rang, cutting off whatever his mother might have replied.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who knows you’re here?” Roper asked her, resigned to more company. “Ben? Sabrina? One of your actress friends you charmed the doorman into letting up without my okay?” He saw his privacy going down the drain.

  His mother shrugged, her gaze wide-eyed and innocent. “Actually, no one. When I couldn’t reach you, I packed and headed straight for the airport.”

  He headed back to the front door and peered through the viewer, needing advanced warning of the person he’d be dealing with next. One look and his mood lifted. This was someone he didn’t want to disappear.

  Roper opened the door, welcoming Amy, an addition Roper himself had made to his doorman’s list. “Thank God,” he said, pulling her inside.

  He needed someone on his side when dealing with the steamroller he called his mother.

  “Strange welcoming but I’ll take it.” Her smile broadened, easing his strain.

  “Not so strange. You aren’t a member of my family, so I’m glad you’re here.” He shut the door behind her and drank in the sight of her.

  Dark denim jeans covered her legs like a second skin, while a deep indigo top with bell sleeves floated around her, belted at the waist. Only a hint of a lace tank peeked out from beneath the flowing top. Once again she looked work appropriate and yet so damn sexy, he didn’t care that his mother was in the other room.

  “So what brings you by?” he asked.

  “Well, first the doorman asked me to give you this,” she said, handing him an oversize envelope with a handwritten scrawl he recognized as belonging to his most persistent fan. And not a fan in love with him, either.

  Ever since the end of the series in October, Roper had been receiving letters and packages from a fan who called himself Season Ticket Holder, a not-so-veiled reference to the fact that he expected more results for his money than Roper had provided.

  “Thanks for bringing up my mail,” he said, not wanting to make a big deal of the letter and draw attention to the fact that he had someone determined to remind him of his failures. He accepted the envelope from Amy and tossed it aside.

  “You’re welcome. Now, I�
�m here because I have a plan.” Amy’s eyes glittered with excitement. “I was up late working on a way to organize your life and give you the time you need. I really think you’re going to be impressed.”

  “Who’s at the door?” his mother called, her voice coming closer with every word she spoke.

  “Your sister?” Amy whispered.

  He shook his head. “Worse.”

  At that moment, Cassandra Lee joined them in all her dramatic glory. “John, aren’t you going to introduce me to your—”

  “Mom, this is Amy Stone, Amy this is my mother, Cassandra Lee,” he said, cutting her off before she could draw any conclusions about who Amy was. No way was he playing “fill in the blanks” with his mother.

  Amy’s eyes opened wide. Clearly she hadn’t been expecting to find the movie star in the flesh. To Amy’s credit, she recovered quickly and stepped forward, her hand extended. “I’m a huge fan,” she admitted. “It’s wonderful to meet you. John’s told me so much about you!”

  “All of it good, of course?” his mother said, lightly clasping Amy’s hand.

  “Is there anything else?” Amy asked, working his mother like a pro. “I had no idea you were coming to town.”

  “That’s because John didn’t know, either. I just love surprises and I missed my children.” Her gaze darted away from Amy’s just enough for Roper to know his mother was lying.

  Just enough. Because Cassandra Lee was an accomplished actress, only her son would have caught the slip.

  “I’m sure you know John’s sister is planning a wedding and she needs my help,” his mother continued.

  Unfortunately for him, it didn’t matter why his mother was here. Only that she’d arrived and planned on staying. Which meant what little peace and quiet he had, which admittedly wasn’t much, was now over.

  He had one source of salvation and she just happened to have arrived at the right moment. He wondered if Amy could save him from his family or if she just believed she could. He supposed he’d know soon enough.

 

‹ Prev