Hot Property

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Hot Property Page 25

by Carly Phillips

Whether they stayed three days or three weeks, they’d have more than enough time to wreak havoc without a trip to Chippendales on their agenda.

  DAVE PUT THE FINISHING touches on his project. He’d been working on it for a while, in between shifts at the gym. It looked professional, if he did say so himself. Enough to cause trouble for John Roper. Trouble the likes of which he’d never seen before.

  Ben had bailed out on him and he wouldn’t be getting the money for his gym. Someone had to pay. It might as well be the high-and-mighty John Roper, Dave thought.

  Laughing, he clicked Upload on his computer.

  Let the fun begin.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  AT DINNER, ROPER BRACED himself for a clash of two women who could not be more different, but his mother and Amy’s hit it off. Darla and Rose gushed over Cassandra and she ate up the attention. If his mother found Amy’s family odd or eccentric, she didn’t show it, for which Roper was grateful. And Harrison, ever the gentleman and ever present at Cassandra’s side, kept her grounded.

  The same couldn’t be said for Amy’s female relatives. Aunt Darla was obviously smitten with their waiter, a young man, new to his job, who didn’t know what to make of the attention.

  He’d taken their orders, with Rose and Darla interrupting him periodically to ask questions. Unfortunately they weren’t about the daily specials.

  “I have a question,” Darla said for the third time. The first two times she’d interrupted the man with personal questions.

  “Yes?” he asked, forcing a smile.

  “It had better be about the meat,” Amy said through gritted teeth.

  “Oh, it is,” her aunt assured her. She glanced up at the waiter. “What’s your address, Hot Boy?” she asked.

  Roper chuckled despite himself.

  “Aunt Darla!” Amy scolded her aunt.

  “I’m going to turn in the order,” he said, flustered and walking away.

  “Ooh, check out that rear end.”

  Amy slapped her hand over her forehead. “Would you cut it out?” she scolded under her breath.

  “Don’t be a spoilsport,” her mother said. “It isn’t anything personal. This is the one thing we don’t miss back home—you killing our fun.”

  Beside him, Amy gritted her teeth. “I’d think you also miss me bailing you two out at midnight. Aunt Darla told me that my replacement makes you wait until morning.”

  “This is better than any movie,” Cassandra said, laughing.

  The waiter returned with their drinks, serving the ladies first, which was his first mistake.

  Darla reached out, and before Roper realized what she intended—and definitely before Amy did—Darla pinched the waiter’s behind.

  The man jumped back, dropping his tray of drinks. “Sorry,” he said. Red-faced, he headed back to the kitchen to get something to clean up the mess.

  “That’s it,” Amy said, yelling at her aunt. “You need to apologize to the man.”

  Roper stood and placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

  At the same moment, a man in a jacket and tie approached the table. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we’ve had some complaints about your table being too loud,” the gentleman said.

  Amy’s face turned red. “I apologize. We won’t cause any more trouble,” she promised.

  “Thank you. I’ll be sending a new waitress to handle your order,” he said pointedly. Then he walked away quickly, leaving them all alone.

  No explanations were necessary. Darla had run the other man off.

  “I hope you’re all happy.” Amy glared at her family members.

  “I didn’t mean any harm,” Darla said, sounding sincere and embarrassed at the same time.

  Roper actually felt sorry for her.

  He felt worse for Amy.

  She lowered herself into her seat and the rest of the meal passed without a word from her. Her mother and aunt behaved—at least well enough not to get them kicked out of the restaurant.

  His mother picked up on the tension and told stories about Hollywood, distracting Amy’s family enough to pass the time.

  “I heard your daughter is getting married,” Rose said to Cassandra at the very end of the meal.

  His mother nodded. “She’s marrying a wonderful man and they’re having a small, intimate ceremony,” she said, grudging acceptance in her tone.

  Since the day Roper had laid down the law, his mother had backed off his sister and stopped meddling in the wedding plans. Of course, the fact that Sabrina had a check in her hand meant there was nothing Cassandra could do but accept her daughter’s wishes.

  Just as Roper had intended.

  And perhaps sensing she was at a crossroads with her son, Cassandra had changed her behavior where he was concerned, as well. Roper was sure Harrison played a strong role in his mother’s turnaround and he appreciated the man more than he could say. Harrison obviously made his mother happy, in her own dysfunctional way, and that pleased Roper, too.

  Roper gestured to the waitress, who picked up the credit-card slip, fully signed. They could leave whenever they were ready. And he sensed Amy had been ready a long time ago.

  “Weddings are wonderful,” Rose said with a sigh.

  Roper nodded. “I’m going to give my sister away and we’re looking forward to Kevin becoming part of the family,” he said.

  “Speaking of weddings,” Rose said, leaning across the table and staring Roper in the eye.

  “Oh, no,” Amy said. “We’re leaving before you can go there.” She correctly guessed her mother would begin to pump Roper about his intentions regarding her daughter.

  Roper knew his own intentions. Unfortunately Amy didn’t share them. Instead she wanted to run from him, far and fast.

  After tonight’s dinner, he was starting to understand why. Now that she couldn’t blame Roper’s family or his choices for coming between them, she had it in for the press. But there was so much more to her feelings. When she’d first come to New York, she’d been uptight, diligently planning his life as if her career hinged on his getting it right. At the time he’d chalked it up to the fact that he was her first assignment. But their trip to the lodge proved him wrong.

  Only when she’d gotten away from the pressure of her job and her family, when she’d stopped worrying about what people were going to think of her, had she been relaxed and happy. She’d enjoyed life.

  There was no enjoyment in Amy now.

  Her family pulled her strings the same way his family had with him.

  Amy stood and he followed. Everyone at the table did the same. They left the restaurant, at which point Cassandra and Rose exchanged phone numbers. Everyone survived the embarrassment of the evening no worse for wear. Everyone except Amy.

  She was barely speaking to anyone. He wished he could help her through what was going on with her family. Unfortunately, he’d learned from firsthand experience that the only person who could fix Amy’s situation was Amy. After all, she’d tried desperately to change his and nothing worked until he’d stood up for his own personal space.

  She needed to do the same.

  AMY COULDN’T BELIEVE HER luck. Yank had arranged for an entire day’s worth of activities for her family. Curly, one of his and her uncle Spencer’s poker buddies, was taking some relatives into town to see the sights and they asked Amy’s mother and aunt to join them. Amy showered, dressed and headed for work, determined to forget the events of last evening.

  She cringed, her stomach cramping at the memory. She wondered what her father would think of last night’s episode. Pushing those thoughts aside, she collected her notepad and pen and headed for the conference room for the weekly meeting. The room filled up quickly, everyone present and accounted for.

  As usual, Yank called the Hot Zone meeting to order. Amy, having already learned the drill, remained standing, hands and coffee off the table until he slammed down the gavel. Then she seated herself and prepared for the list of new assignments.

  Yank’s
first words weren’t about business per se. “We’re gonna have a firm party at one of the upstate country clubs,” he announced without preamble. “It’ll be before the start of baseball season and after the NFL draft, so nobody can make excuses. Micki’s got media lined up and we’re gonna make a splash just because we can,” he said proudly. “Everyone needs to be there.”

  “This is going to be an annual event,” Annabelle said. “We have corporate sponsors who want to meet our clients. It’s a win-win for everyone. Date to follow soon.”

  “Amy and Spencer, be sure your family’s back home before then. Otherwise we might have a bomb scare,” Yank said, laughing.

  Amy cringed.

  Until her uncle added, “Similar to the fire drill you arranged New Year’s Eve?”

  Then Amy laughed.

  “He’s blamin’ a blind man for trippin’ over his dog! Can you believe that?” Yank asked, rising from his chair.

  “I’m blaming you for being a klutz. Being blind’s got nothing to do with it,” Spencer said.

  “Here they go again,” Micki whispered to Amy, leaning close. She grabbed the gavel from her unsuspecting uncle’s hands and rapped it on the rubber mat. “Move it along,” she ordered.

  The men sat down, obeying her without question. Another half hour passed with routine business until Frannie burst into the room without knocking. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, huffing and out of breath. “But I have news that can’t wait.”

  Amy’s stomach churned. She had a distinct feeling of déjà vu, taking her back to her first meeting in this room.

  “Let’s hear it,” Yank said.

  “Well, I need to see Amy privately,” Frannie said, suddenly realizing all eyes were on her.

  Now Amy’s stomach churned again, but for good reason. Frannie wasn’t the type to get so worked up. This must really be something. Amy rose from her seat, but Micki placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’re family here. Nobody is in this room except Uncle Yank, Spencer, myself, my sisters and Amy. We want to help.”

  Amy sat down again.

  Frannie nodded. She leaned forward until she was between Amy and Micki. “There’s something on the Internet Amy needs to see. Nobody else should see it,” Frannie said.

  That was the moment Amy realized her uncle’s secretary had a laptop beneath her arm. She placed it on the table, opened it and Amy immediately recognized the banner for Buckley’s blog on the top of the screen.

  Everyone in the room was silent, obviously recognizing something huge was going on. Amy had never been so sick in her life.

  “Ready?” Frannie asked.

  “As I’ll ever be,” Amy muttered.

  She scrolled down slowly until the headline caught Amy’s eye. Roper Bares All. Panic rose in her throat as she tried to concentrate on the words. The effort to understand what she was seeing was futile until she saw her own name posted along with Roper’s.

  A prominent link promised to lead to “an eyeful.”

  She clicked.

  She looked.

  And she immediately wished she hadn’t.

  Her hands began to sweat because somehow, there were photographs of Amy and Roper—naked on the Internet.

  Having sex.

  She ordered herself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

  Think.

  She peeled open her eyelids and looked again. Thanks to the unbelievable angle of the bodies on screen, Amy tipped her head to the side to get a better glimpse.

  “When did you get a tattoo?” her uncle Spencer asked from behind them.

  “I didn’t!” she said tightly, jumping up from her seat, nearly knocking everyone behind her over in her effort to escape the sudden stifling feeling surrounding her.

  “Take it easy,” Micki said, grabbing her wrist. “They’re obviously doctored, so breathe. We’ll figure something out.”

  Everyone around her spoke, but she couldn’t hear anything beyond the ringing in her ears. It didn’t matter that the body on the screen wasn’t really hers. It was her face. And nobody who viewed this photograph would know or care that it wasn’t really Amy and Roper doing the deed.

  She knew her business. Perception was everything. Thanks to her relationship with Roper, she’d been violated in the most extreme and demeaning way and there was nothing she could do about it.

  Tears filled her eyes, along with impotent frustration. She’d felt like this once before. Memories of her mother being photographed as Lady Godiva came back to her vividly. Guilt by association had damned her in the eyes of her employers and made her a laughingstock in the community. She’d let herself down, but worse, she felt her father’s disappointment keenly. Amy had coped by withdrawing deeper into her mother’s world, doing her best to help them control their behavior. Without others to judge her, she’d been able to live with the insanity.

  But here in New York, she couldn’t hide the same way. She hadn’t signed up for the privilege of being in the public eye. Nor did she want it.

  The price was too high.

  She jerked away from Micki, her uncle and everyone else calling her name and headed to find the one person she could vent on. The person who’d caused this mess, intentionally or not.

  To her surprise, Amy didn’t have to go far to find Roper. He was waiting in her office.

  ROPER HAD RECEIVED enough phone calls and e-mails about the Internet photos to know he’d better reach Amy before she had a chance to build up emotional walls against him.

  She burst into the room quickly and stopped short, obviously shocked to see him. She was dressed for work, in a blazer and slacks. Professional and cute at the same time.

  As usual, his heart beat faster at the sight of her. He’d accepted his feelings for her.

  She hadn’t.

  He welcomed them.

  She was still running.

  “Hi.” She straightened her shoulders and turned away for a second, obviously wiping tears from her eyes. He guessed she’d heard about the photos.

  Anger gripped him, as it had when he’d seen the pictures the first time. This wasn’t the usual paparazzi photo. Someone was going to pay.

  Clearing her throat, she met his gaze. “You saved me a trip. I was just coming to find you,” she said calmly. Too calmly.

  Everything inside him chilled. “Well, I’m glad I saved you a trip. What’s up?” he asked, trying to gauge her mood.

  She walked past him, retreating behind the safety of her desk. “Let’s put it out on the table, okay? I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures.” She clasped her hands in front of her, but not before he noticed that they were shaking and her cheeks were flushed pink in embarrassment.

  He wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from everything that had and could hurt her, but he knew better than to think it was possible. She needed to face this challenge. They needed to face it together if they ever wanted to have a future.

  “I’ve seen them,” he said, his jaw clenched tight. “And I’m going to kill the bastard who doctored them and put them up there.”

  “You’ll have to find the person first.”

  He inclined his head. “I intend to. But I’m more worried about you.” This composed, sedate woman sitting in front of him wasn’t the Amy he thought he’d find.

  He’d figured she’d be angry and fired up. Furious at him just because he was the easiest target.

  “I know how you feel about this kind of thing and I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t promise you something like this won’t happen again, but I swear, I’ll do my best to see it doesn’t.”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s not enough. You are who you are. You’re John Roper, center fielder for the best team in New York. You’re a celebrity, and let’s face it, you love being one. I can’t ask you not to be you.”

  Was that a glimmer of deeper understanding he saw? A flicker of hope rose inside him that maybe, just maybe, being in this job, in this city, had taught her to come around. Could that explain the calm a
ura around her.

  “Thank you for that. But you’re you. We can certainly work around both,” he assured her.

  He stepped closer, intending to circle around the desk and take her in his arms, but her words stopped him.

  “That’s not possible, John, and it’s naive to think it is.” She drew a deep breath. “Being a couple isn’t working for me. The photographers are relentless. Being friends won’t work, either. Even if I were just your assistant, it wouldn’t keep me out of the media spotlight. And that’s just not a place I want to be. So I’ve decided to ask Micki to reassign me. Permanently.” Her voice cracked but her composure didn’t.

  The only sign that she was upset was the fact that her knuckles had turned white.

  But Roper didn’t have her composure. He snapped, losing his patience. In a heartbeat he strode around the desk and grasped her by the shoulders, spinning her chair around to face him.

  She gasped and squirmed, but he didn’t release his grip. “What is wrong with you?” she asked, emotion showing at last.

  “You’re wrong. This is wrong.”

  “Because I don’t want to sleep with you anymore?” she said without meeting his gaze. “Or because I don’t like your high-profile life?”

  “Because you care about me as much as I care about you. You’re using this ‘I hate being in the public eye’ thing as an excuse not to be with me,” he said, his frustration at an all-time high.

  She finally met his gaze. “Pardon me if it bothers me to see myself naked on the Internet!” she spat.

  “We both know it isn’t your body. I’ll take a freaking billboard in Manhattan if that’s what it takes to convince you I love you!” he yelled at her.

  She stilled and stopped pulling away from him. Her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, too,” she said softly.

  Relief swamped him. “Then get angry at whoever is doing this to us. React, instead of being this monotone robot without feelings. Fight for us, dammit!”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  He leaned closer. “Why the hell not?” he asked, seeking an answer to the one question he didn’t understand. “We can ignore the press and focus on us. It isn’t easy, but we can do it.”

 

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