Tackled by the King: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Stand Alone Novel)

by Christina Clark

  That’s when it had all gone to shit. I had been better at the work, and Jackson couldn’t stand it. He had always been competitive, even as a child, but that was always friendly. We grew up competing for grades, for girls, for popularity. This time though, he had been serious, and he often tried to sabotage my projects, bribing my secretaries and getting information on my clients which he would then attempt to steal away from me. I was far more successful than he was, and he started spreading rumors that the only reason I was making it in the market was because of my father’s nepotism. I could have had him fired in an instant, but I still thought of him as a friend, until the Paris division opened up. We both knew we were the only two people capable of doing that job, and when I was chosen over him, he broke off all ties with me, making sure I knew just how much he hated me. It had been five years, and even though I knew how much I’d changed since then, and he probably had too, I still didn’t want to have to meet him now. I ducked low and reached into my pocket for my phone just to have something to do when I realized that I didn’t have a phone- I’d broken mine in Paris and Freddy hadn’t stopped to let me get one.

  I sighed and surreptitiously motioned for a waiter to get another drink. He set it down in front of me and I sipped it as I noticed another familiar face walk into the bar. She wore a well-fitted black skirt suit that hugged her full figure deliciously. I sat up a little as I took in her full hips, her large breasts, and her long legs. I tried to get a better look at her face, but her deep burgundy curls kept coming in the way. I had a vague feeling I had seen her somewhere, but I couldn’t place it. She walked over to the bar and looked around at the décor. As she looked over her shoulder, I got a good look at her large green eyes, her voluminous lips, and her perfect little nose. She was stunningly beautiful, and I had to consciously close my mouth that had fallen open while I had stared at her. Where did I know her from? She didn’t look like the kind of girl who would run in my social circles. She ordered vodka with a twist of lemon, and as she smiled at the bartender. I noticed that she had dimples in her cheeks. Suddenly, I realized that I wasn’t the only one who had been looking at her as she walked in. Jackson was following all her movements with his eyes, and he was now standing up and walking towards her.

  “Hey there,” I heard him say as he reached the bar, “Can I buy you a drink?” She looked at him and smiled shortly as she said, “No thank you, I’ve already got one.” She returned to her drink and Jackson blinked confusedly. He was clearly not used to getting rejected by girls and he said, louder this time, “I’m sorry, I don’t think you heard me correctly. I offered to buy you a drink.” She turned, her large eyes widened in surprise to find him still standing behind her and she said, “Um- I did hear you, and I said no thank you. I don’t want to take you up on your offer.” She turned away from him again, but he grabbed onto her shoulder and hissed something in her ear. She sprang up from her bar stool and retreated a few steps away. Without realizing it, I had stood up and charged towards Jackson as glared at her and threateningly came closer. I ran straight at Jackson and pulled back my fist, saying, “She said, ‘No thank you’ you son of a bitch,” as my fist collided with his jaw. He staggered back drunkenly and I shook my fist as a searing pain shot up my arm. “What the fuck- Luke?” Jackson gasped as he clutched his jaw and his eyes focused on my face and recognition dawned on his. “Get away from her, Jackson,” I snarled at him, and he backed away, raising his hands in surrender as he said, “Man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you two were together.” The woman had been watching in horror, and she lowered her hand from her mouth as I said, “We’re not- but she’s a fucking person who told you to fuck off.” Jackson blinked and bowed his head in shame as he said, this time to her, “I’m sorry, I was just really drunk- I didn’t mean any harm,” and he backed away and left the bar.

  She turned to me gratefully and said, “Thank you so much, I don’t-” she stopped speaking abruptly and looked at my face. I was still nursing my bruised fist but I noticed the sudden silence on her part and I looked up to find her gazing straight into my eyes. Suddenly, I realized where I had seen her before, and she said, “You’re that asshole guy from this morning.” The minute she said this, she clamped a hand over her mouth and said, “Sorry- I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” I laughed and said, “No, that’s okay- I was wondering where I’d seen you before, and now I remember.” She still looked embarrassed. I had been an asshole, admittedly, and I said, “I’m sorry about smacking into you earlier- you had left when I turned to apologize.” She smiled a small smile and held out her hand, “I’m Rachel; it’s nice to meet you- Luke, is it?” I nodded and shook her hand, “Pleasure’s mine, Rachel.” We stood there for a moment, smiling at each other until a young woman came rushing up to Rachel and held her in a tight embrace, “Oh my God, Rachel, are you okay? We were walking in when we saw the man apologizing to you, and the bartender told us what happened-” Rachel gently extradited herself from the embrace and said, “Sarah- Sarah, calm down, I’m fine, thanks to Luke here.” I smiled as Sarah turned to face me, and she threw a mischievous glance at Rachel before she said, “Well, thank you for rescuing my sister, Luke.”

  Chapter Six: Rachel

  I shot a look at Sarah to make sure she wouldn’t say anything silly, and I said, “Luke, would you like to join us? We’re celebrating my sister’s first major film role.” He smiled at me, and Sarah looked at the gaggle of twenty-somethings Sarah had brought with her and then politely said, “Well, congratulations to your sister, but no, I should probably take off. Thank you for the offer, though.” As he walked away, I felt a deep sense of disappointment. How would I see him again? Should I have asked for his number? No, that would have been considered as too forward. I asked him to join us and he said no; so that’s it, I guess. I looked at Sarah and her friends, and although I loved them dearly, I could understand why someone who traveled in limos and had business with the likes of Simon Garrett would want to decline the offer of drinking with a bunch of hippie wannabe-actors. I sighed and took a seat, as I tried to focus on the celebration, but even as I plastered a smile on my face and toasted to Sarah’s success with the others, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I had already run into him so many times today- it was like the universe was trying to tell me something. I thought about how he had punched someone in the face for me- little old me whom he didn’t even know. I sighed again; it was so romantic. I ordered another drink as the conversation around me buzzed on, but I could only think about Luke and his piercing blue eyes.

  I had already downed four drinks and I could feel my ears grow hot as I struggled to get out of my seat. Sarah looked up at me and said, “What- you’re going already?” I looked down at my watch- we’d been here for almost an hour and a half and I nodded, saying, “Sorry babe, but I have to go to a dinner later today and I need to go home and get dressed.” I noticed that I had trouble speaking properly and I knew I had to get out the bar and sober up before going to Mr. Garrett’s dinner. I stumbled on my pencil heels and shook the hair out of my eyes as I walked out into the bright afternoon sunlight, realizing once again that I had nothing to wear. I pulled out my phone and called Alison, expecting to leave a voicemail, but I was pleasantly surprised when she picked up. “Rachel!” Alison squealed, “Rachel, sweetie, it’s so great to hear from you! I miss you so much- I can’t wait to come back to New York, but oh Rome is so beautiful, you’d love it. Listen to me, just jabbering on- how’s everything with you?” I laughed. I was used to Alison talking non-stop, and it was one of the things I loved about her. “I miss that jabbering actually- the apartment seems so quiet and empty without you there. But listen, I actually need your help, if you’re not too busy.”

  I added the last part because I could hear music in the background, and a man shouting in Italian. I assumed she was backstage at a fashion show. “No, no, I’m free to talk- what do you need help with?” I described the dinner party invitation, and Alison interrupted me saying, “Ooh, Simon Garr
ett? That’s some fancy shit- Felix knows his son, I think, handsome guy but kind of a douchebag.” I dismissed that impatiently- the only guy I could think about right now was my rescuer, Luke, and I continued, “Yeah I might get to meet him at the wedding. Anyway, what does one wear to these things?” Alison paused for a moment and then said, “Well, I’ve got this stunning jumpsuit in a black garment bag in the closet, and a pale gold cocktail dress but I think the jumpsuit would fit you better. Send pictures okay? I’ve got to run now, love. Here, talk to Felix.” With that, Alison disappeared from the other end of the line and Felix came on, saying, “Hey Ray-Ray, did I hear Ally say Simon Garrett’s son? Listen, don’t get involved with him, alright? The guy’s bad news-” I tutted impatiently and said, “Nobody’s getting involved with anyone- I swore off guys this morning.”

  Felix laughed and said, “Good one, Rachel. We’ll see how long that lasts.” I frowned, realizing that I had already broken my oath to myself when I had asked Luke to join me for a drink. I guess Felix knew me better than I knew myself. “Bye Felix, I’ve got to go, but I miss you guys. Hurry back to the city!” I hung up after he said goodbye and hurried on towards my apartment. On the way, I tried to focus solely on the dinner party, and my presence there as the wedding organizer. I had to concentrate on my work for now, and if the universe really had been telling me something by having me run into Mystery Luke so many times, then it would happen again. I decided to leave things in fate’s hands and go about my life as normal. As soon as I got to my building, I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and tore into the apartment, making a beeline for Alison’s closet. I knew I had more than a few hours before I had to go to the wedding, but I had peeked at Simon Garrett’s address and realized that dinner at his house actually meant dinner at his Upper East-Side mansion complete with two swimming pools, tennis courts, luxurious gardens, and a ballroom. I was still looking up pictures of it online when I threw open Alison’s closet door and rummaged through the beautiful clothes to find a black garment bag. I unzipped it in a hurry and it fell open to reveal the most exquisite emerald green jumpsuit I had ever seen. “Oh, thank you, Alison,” I whispered as I fingered the delightful fabric.

  I lay down, trying to get some rest before I had to go, but I kept fidgeting and wouldn’t let my mind rest. It kept jumping from the dinner party to Simon Garrett and Luke. It kept getting stuck on Luke, and even though I tried to distract myself in all sorts of ways, I couldn’t get him out of my mind, with his piercing blue eyes, his full brown hair, his broad shoulders, and his big hands. I sighed to myself and imagined his big hands traveling all over me. Holding back a shudder of ecstasy at the thought of it, I decided I needed a cold shower. I undressed in front of the mirror, turning around to simultaneously admire and critique myself. I unhooked my bra slowly, imagining Luke sitting on the bed and watching me. I could feel my heartbeat quicken as I imagined his eyes hungrily taking in my full breasts, my narrow waist, and my rounded hips. Shaking my head at myself, I hopped into the shower and grounded myself back to reality. New York was a huge city, and I knew that there was a huge chance I would never see Luke again. But still, another part of me thought, what’s the harm in thinking about it? I gathered all my hair up above the nape of my neck as the cold water streamed down my body. No, I scolded myself, there’s no point in obsessing- que sera sera, I thought. I should just focus on the things I actually can control.

  I stepped out of the shower, determined to stop thinking about my mystery man and start thinking about the wedding which was just a week away. I decided I would start getting dressed since my mind wasn’t letting me rest or focus on anything else. I worked some mousse into my hair and wrapped it in a cotton t-shirt to let my curls set while I started on my makeup. I had seen pictures of Sophia, the bride to be, and she was absolutely gorgeous; so of course, I felt a little insecure and really wanted to look nice so I wouldn’t pale too much in comparison. Naturally, though, there were vicious rumors that had been circulating about Sophia, about how she was just a gold digger marrying Simon for his money- and I may have believed some of those rumors until this morning when I saw how Simon spoke about her. He really did seem to love her, and I was starting to think that maybe Sophia loved him back for him, and not just for his mansion and his cars. I continued with my beauty routine, patting on some light rouge and drawing a stroke of black across my eyelids. I put on some bright red lipstick and let my hair loose, stepping back to admire my handiwork. I then pulled on the beautiful jumpsuit and instantly felt elegant and sophisticated. So what if I didn’t have Simon’s money or Sophia’s looks? I had Alison’s clothes and my makeup skills- I accessorized with a pair of golden bangles and my prized Louboutin heels, and I was all set for the dinner.

  Chapter Seven: Lucas

  I tried to distract myself from thinking about Dad and the wedding and Sophia by lifting weights at the gym, and it worked. The minute I got my blood pumping, I felt better and all thoughts of Dad vanished, but curiously, they were being replaced by the memory of Rachel’s smile as she asked me to join her for a drink. I still didn’t really understand why I had said no, but looking at the people she hung out, I had made a calculated guess that she wouldn’t like someone like me. Even as I had walked away from the bar, I had considered popping back in and asking for her number. What if I never see her again? I should have at least asked for her full name, or even if I knew what she was doing at Garrett Industries, it would have given me a clue to who she was. But now, I knew nothing about her except that she liked vodka with lemon and that her sister was an actress. As I worked out, a young woman wearing yoga pants and a sports bra walked past, visibly checking me out, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop thinking about Rachel in that little skirt suit. I shook my head- what was the point? Even if I had her number, I’d probably just fuck her and move on. Monique had taught me that relationships just weren’t my thing. I put the weights down and headed for the showers. While I lathered soap onto my body, I thought back to my meeting with Dad and his invitation to dinner. I sighed and realized that if I didn’t show up, I’d keep getting invites and sooner or later, I’d have to face the whole family anyway- might as well go tonight and get it over with.

  I sighed as I turned off the taps, wrapped a towel around my waist and stepped out into the locker room. I was pulling my clothes out of my gym bag when I heard giggling behind me and I turned around to find that somebody had left the door to the locker room open- and two women were standing just outside the door and staring at me as I bent over my gym bag in nothing but my towel. I smirked at them, making eye contact, and they hurried away, pushing the door closed. I shook my head at their frivolousness and proceeded to pull on my clothes. As I walked out of the locker room, I saw the two of them quickly look away when I passed by them. I chuckled softly and headed out of the gym and back up to my room. Once inside, I began digging into my suitcase to see if I’d packed a tux- dinners at the Garrett residence were usually a black tie affair with at least fifty people in attendance. I thought distastefully about all the dinner parties I had been forced to sit through on the Upper East Side with my dad’s friends and coworkers; at least living in Paris meant being away from all of that.

  I shaved my face and put on the tux- standing in front of the hotel room mirror, I turned around and looked at myself critically. I knew I was a good looking guy- people had been telling me that since I hit puberty, and I always received lots of attention from both men and women, so I rarely lacked confidence in that department. Yet, when it came to my dad, I always had to stop and look at myself, trying to see myself through his eyes. Did I look capable enough, successful enough, grown up enough? I frowned at my reflection for a minute, cleared my throat and said, “Hello, I’m Lucas Garrett, head of Garrett Industries France.” I extended my hand towards my reflection, putting on my most charming smile, but I still felt like I wouldn’t be good enough in my father’s eyes. Well, fuck him- he wasn’t good enough in my eyes either. I stared angrily at myself
for a few seconds before I shook my head and turned away from the mirror. Out of habit, I reached into my pocket for my phone, and then realized I still didn’t have one. I picked up the hotel telephone and dialed the concierge, “Hello, yes this is Lucas Garrett- I need a smartphone delivered to my room. Can you send somebody out to get one for me?” The concierge told me I’d have one waiting for me by the front desk in a couple of hours. “I’m heading out right now, and I might get back late, so I’ll just pick it up in the morning, thanks.”

  I hung up and realized that I actually felt kind of liberated not having a phone on me. Usually, it would be ringing like crazy with calls from Monique, from Ariadne, from Francois- my secretary, and all sorts of business associates. No wonder I’d been so wrapped up in my own thoughts all afternoon- I’d actually had the time to sit and think. I ran my fingers through my hair, straightened my bow tie, rubbed some cologne on, and headed out of my room. In the elevator, a teenage girl and her mother stood beside me, both throwing at me surreptitious glances that I pretended not to notice. The hotel valet hailed me a cab and as I gave the address to the driver, I saw his expression change to one of admiration. “You mean Simon Garrett’s mansion?” I nodded and tried to keep the sourness out of my voice as I said, “Yup- that’s the one.” The rest of the drive was carried out in silence and I was once again left to my own thoughts. I realized suddenly that my day had taken a sudden turn- I’d woken up to the sight of Monique’s naked body in Paris, and here I was, riding a cab alone to a dinner at my father’s house in New York. I wondered how the night would end, although I didn’t have high hopes. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up outside the house, and as I paid the fare and climbed out, I felt waves of nausea wash over me. No matter how much I’d hated it here, this was still my childhood home, and I realized I did have some fond memories of it. Smiling despite my staunch dislike of the people who inhabited the house, I walked in.