by Liz Lovelock
“Oh, goodness. Did I really do that?” I slap a hand to my forehead. “Must have sounded so stupid to him.”
She scoffs. “I highly doubt that. He still married you, and from memory, he wasn’t as drunk as you were.”
This is new information. “Excuse me? Then why didn’t he stop the wedding?”
“I don’t know; your guess is as good as mine. Is his number in your phone?”
My microwave beeps, and I give the dish a quick stir before starting it again to make sure my meal is nice and hot.
Coming back to my phone, I begin scrolling again. Back up to the H’s I go.
“His name isn’t there.”
What little hope I had of reconnecting with him dies. I knew this would be the case.
“Damn. Maybe just scroll through every name and see if it’s under something else.”
I grab a bottle of wine from the fridge and a glass from the cupboard. “Viv, I really don’t think there’s any point. For all we know, he’s happily married and has kids with some supermodel.” I pour a large glass of wine and take a sip, the coolness coating my mouth.
“He’s not; I just googled him. He’s still very much single.” Of course, she has.
“Single or not, I’m not ready to uproot a past that he’s most likely put behind him. Why would I do that? He could have a girlfriend and it just not have been reported.”
“Trust me, he’s watched like a hawk. If he’s seeing someone, the world knows,” she states matter-of-factly.
“Then how is it I’ve never discovered he was a big-time quarterback until just now?” I shove a forkful of chicken in my mouth, the flavor dancing on my taste buds and instantly stopping the repeated rumble of my stomach.
“Scarlett, how many times have you been to or watched a football game?”
“Never,” I admit, feeling a little guilty.
“Exactly. You two were young, a one-night marriage turned into divorce. And now, you are older, wiser, and possibly perfect for each other.”
“I highly doubt that. You’re so optimistic.”
“Looking him up is better than sitting at home, wallowing over the ex who cheated on you and blew all your cash on presents for his mistress.”
“Who says I’m wallowing?” I joke, but her words sting a little because they’re right.
“You’re home alone on a Friday night, and you’ve turned the television on. That’s a major indicator that things aren’t great in that little head of yours.”
Damn her for knowing me so well.
I sigh. “I really just didn’t want to do anything. The whole divorce with Craig has sucked the happiness from me.”
“I understand. Maybe tomorrow night we’ll go to your favorite restaurant and have a few cocktails.”
“Sounds good. Thank you for being there for me, Viv. It means the world to know you’re looking out for me,” I say.
“Not a problem.” She laughs. “Just don’t start calling me Hungry Eyes, okay?”
I laugh along with her. “Okay. And just so you know, his number wasn’t under that in my phone.”
“Oh, that sucks. I would have loved seeing him again.”
“You mean him or one of the hot friends he had with him?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, missy.”
“I’m not.”
She laughs. “Shut up.”
“Well, I’m going to finish my dinner and have an early night. Talk to you tomorrow.”
We end our call, and I’m left to my thoughts of Craig and his betrayal, and Lachlan and what could have been.
“That was your last interview for the evening, Lachy,” Wyatt, my agent, says as he stares down at the black book in front of him that holds all my business dealings, appointments, and interviews.
“Perfect.” I run my hand through my damp hair then tug off my sweat-ridden jersey. Tonight’s game was brutal; every part of me aches in some way. They say you’re protected with the armor, but when you’re the main target of the opposing team, it doesn’t seem to help much.
“Remember to not get yourself into trouble,” he says, giving me a stern glance. It’s his weekly reminder. Ever since my flash Vegas wedding, he's all up in my grill to not make the same mistake.
“You do remember that I don’t do that party-boy thing anymore, don’t you? Plus, it’s been years since that happened.”
He snaps the book shut and kicks away from the locker he’s leaning against, his dark stare catching mine. “I don’t care. You were lucky. That woman could have taken you for all you had, and you’d have looked like a fool in front of your teammates, family, and fans.”
I clasp my hands together and reach up, stretching my back. “But she didn’t.”
“But she could have.”
“Let’s not get into this again. What’s done is done.” I rub my hand over my face and drop onto the bench. The other players are rioting and cheering because of our win tonight. It’s only the first game of the season, and it’s like everything we have been training for has come into play. We need to prove that we are the best. The Super Bowl is the aim once again this year.
My body screams at me to get under the steaming shower. The first game of the season is always one of the hardest.
“What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?” Wyatt asks.
I glance up. “I’m not sure. I have dinner tomorrow night with my mom and dad. They came into town for the game, so obviously I have to spend some time with them. Because if I don’t, apparently I’m the worst son in the world.”
“Things still hard with your father?”
“You have no idea. I’m sure he’ll have a list of all the things I did wrong tonight, and Mom will have to bring his boiling criticism to a simmer. Things are never good with him.”
Wyatt claps me on the padded shoulder. “Sorry, man. Parents suck sometimes.”
“Yeah, you don’t have to tell me. I wonder if I’ll ever do anything right by him. I just hate how he makes me feel, even though I’m a grown-ass man.” My teeth clench, and I stand. “Well, that’s enough about them. I’m hitting the shower and getting out of here.”
“Not a problem,” he says then holds that little black book up again. “Oh, before I forget, you have an important event coming up in about two weeks. It’s for the Big Brother and Sister Charity. Do you want to bring Levi?”
“I don’t think that will be the kind of event Levi will enjoy, but make sure I’ve got a good donation going to the charity.” It is one of the most important charities I support.
“Are you sure?” Wyatt asks. “It might be good for him to see the people who support the charity which also supports him, and others like him.”
I shake my head. “No, I think he’d be bored out of his mind. This is a black-tie event; Levi hates those kinds of things.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I know I am. I’ve been hanging with him for over a year, so of course I have some idea of what he’s interested in.”
Levi would hate being forced to go to something like that. Yes, it helps him, and it’s given us each other. The foster system isn’t easy, but if I can help one kid, it will be Levi.
We say our goodbyes, and I finally strip myself of all my gear and make my way to the showers. As I step under the steaming-hot spray, my muscles relax almost instantly. A vision of Scarlett weaves its way into my thoughts. I swear it was her coming out of a lawyer’s office. But then I blinked, and she was gone. For some unknown reason, her face has popped into my dreams on a regular basis these past couple of months. Perhaps I was projecting my dreams into reality and made the whole thing up. It must have been my imagination playing a dirty trick on me.
I remember her laugh and how it caused my heart to skip a beat every time. Her dark hair in perfect waves down her bare back as she lay in the hotel bed. Her face had gone from pleasure to complete shock the moment she realized what had happened the night before.
She didn’t want to be married
—especially to a stranger. She’d made that particularly clear.
It’s a big, wide world out there, and I’m sure that, one day, the right person will come into my life. That’s what I want now: the white picket fence, a dog, children, and a wife I love and who loves me in return.
If only there was a woman who wouldn’t use me for my fame and money.
“How are you doing, son? It was a tough game last night.” Dad claps me on the back as we enter the restaurant, and Mom comes in for a hug.
All eyes in the place turn to me. Damn, that feels weird. But I should be used to this kind of attention by now.
“Yeah, it was tough. How’s Jase doing?” The change of subject slides off my tongue.
“He’s doing surprisingly well. Much better than he was. Seems he finally got his head in the game. Thank goodness. He could join you here in New York if he keeps going the way he is.”
“That would be good,” I say with a smile. I’d love for him to come here and get the hell away from our over-the-top father.
The waitress stops and gestures to a table. She places menus down. “Please take a seat, and I’ll be back shortly to take your orders. Would you like something to drink?”
“I’ll have a look and order when you get back,” I say.
She nods, and we each thank her.
As I’m about to sit, loud laughter draws my attention. It sounds familiar. Could it be . . . her?
Before I can scan the room, Dad clears his throat and says, “How are you feeling after last night’s game?”
“Umm . . . yeah, good.” I swear I hear her talking to someone. No, it’s most likely not her. What would the chances be? One in a million. New York is a big place.
I catch the end of Dad saying something, and I face him. “Sorry, what was that?”
Dad’s gaze is stone. He doesn’t like to be ignored, especially when we’re talking business. He shuts his eyes for a moment, clearly trying to rein in his emotions. “I said, how do you think you’ll do next week? You guys nearly lost yesterday. Was your head not in the game, like it’s not at this dinner table?”
Swallowing my anger, I say, “We’ll be fine, like always.”
There’s a loud clattering of cutlery followed by laughter—that familiar song. My focus leaves the table and conversation again. I need to know if it’s her.
My eyes go from one side of the room to the other when, finally, they stop. It’s her. There’s no doubt in my mind I’m staring at Scarlett.
She faces my direction, though she’s not noticed me. She’s probably the only one in the restaurant who hasn’t paid me any attention. She smiles wide, and it makes me smile, too.
Those lips . . . Oh, I remember those. The want and desire in them as we tore off our clothes after our shotgun wedding. It certainly felt like a honeymoon—until the following morning when she realized we were married.
“What’s wrong? Are you listening?” Dad asks. I flick back to him, but he’s caught my line of sight and must notice Scarlett. “Keep your head in the game, Lachlan,” he says in a firm tone.
I bite my lip.
Leaning in so that I don’t need to raise my voice, I hiss, “Will you just stop? I’m sick of getting the third degree from you. Be my father—not my boss, agent, or coach. I have other people riding my ass; I don’t need you doing it every damn time I see you. I’ve had enough of it.”
Dad’s eyes go wide. “Don’t speak to me like that.”
“What? So, it’s okay for you to treat me like a five-year-old, but it’s not okay for me to tell you to just be my dad for once? Jase and I work our asses off to please you, but it never seems good enough. When will it ever be?”
Mom’s head darts around. She places her hand over my clenched fist on the table. “Lachlan, please, don’t do this now. We’re here to see you. We’re so proud of you and what you’ve achieved.”
“I love you guys for all you’ve done, but please, Dad, can we have a good meal and try not to start another argument? Can you just trust that I’m not the stupid kid I once was?”
I stare at my father. The vein on the side of his neck pumps, and the redness in his cheeks has me holding my breath. Please don’t make a scene.
Clearing his throat, he finally says, “Fine.”
I don’t miss the strain in that single word. He’s such a hardhead.
Lifting my gaze, I seek out that beautiful face again. I have to make sure I’m not dreaming. The pink flush in her cheeks along with those deep, chocolate eyes has me rising from my chair.
“Where are you going, honey?” Mom asks.
“Oh, sit down, Lachlan.” Dad throws his napkin on the table. “Don’t walk out on us.”
I pause and close my eyes for a second then say, “I’m not walking out; just give me a second, please. I see someone I know. Well, I think it’s her.”
I don’t turn away from her in case she disappears again, and as I approach, her face turns to mine.
Four years ago…
We rush off the plane as I’m about to be late for an important meeting. “Come on, Vivian; we don’t have time to take in the scenery.” I grab her arm and march her toward the baggage collection point.
She moans. “Scarlett, you’re no fun. We’re meant to be having a girls’ weekend.”
“We are, but I also have to work. After my meeting, we can do whatever you want.”
Turning the corner, I collide with a chest and fall back against Vivian, my fingers gripping her sleeves.
Warm hands catch me from falling, and I glance up at the most drop-dead-gorgeous man I’ve ever had the pleasure of running into.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I move from his grip, release Vivian, and brush my hair behind my ear.
The man’s piercing blue eyes hold mine. There’s something captivating about him. “That’s okay. It can be a little crazy here sometimes.”
I laugh. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”
“Which way are you heading?” he asks.
“Um . . . to get our bags.” I glance over his shoulder, and there are a couple of other equally built-like-God men behind him. Who is this guy?
He extends a hand. “I’m Lachlan.”
I take it. “I’m Scarlett, and this is Vivian.” I gesture to Viv standing beside me, a wide, goofy grin plastered across her face.
“Hey there,” she coos. Flirt.
“Nice to meet you both. Are you here for business or pleasure?” His question catches me off guard.
Vivian jumps in with the answer. “We’re here for both. Fun, and she’s got business.” She jerks a thumb in my direction.
“Anyway, I have to go, or I’m going to be late for my meeting. Nice to meet you, and again, I’m sorry for running into you.” I take Vivian’s arm and move around Lachlan’s large frame.
“Okay. Hopefully we’ll accidently run into each other again.” He grins, and it spikes my breath.
We scurry off, and Viv leans closer. “He’s hot, and he’s still watching you.”
I throw a look over my shoulder, and my stomach twists as our eyes meet again. He gives a small wave.
I smile then turn and keep going. “Work first, then pleasure. How about you go to the hotel, and I’ll go to my meeting, then I can message you when I’ve finished, and we can get some food from the hotel restaurant, so make a reservation. Can I leave you to get our bags? I can’t be late for this appointment, or my boss is going to kill me.”
“You just need to start your own publishing company.”
I sigh. “I know, and that time is coming, but for now, I can’t lose this job. So, are you all right with everything?”
“Yes, go.” She swishes her hand.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
We say our goodbyes, and I rush off for a cab.
I sit at the table, waiting for Vivian to arrive. She takes too long to get ready. I flick through emails on my phone when a deep voice catches me off guard.
“How was your meeting?”
Whirling around in my seat, I’m face-to-face with Lachlan, the man from the airport. “Oh, hello. Are you staying in this hotel?” I do a quick scan of the restaurant area, looking for his friends, but it’s just him.
He slips into the chair across from me. What the hell is he doing? I don’t know this man.
“Ah, I’m just waiting for my friend.”
“That’s okay. I’ll go when she arrives. So, tell me a little about yourself, Scarlett. What do you do for work? What do you do for fun?”
“Don’t you think you’re being kind of creepy?” I joke.
Lachlan throws his head back, laughing. “I can say that I’ve never had that response from a woman.”
“Oh, so you often hit on ladies like this?” I can’t help but tease.
“I wouldn’t say often.”
“So you’re a ladies’ man?”
Another round of laughter from him brings a smile to my face.
“Oh, you make this so much fun. I wouldn’t say ladies’ man, though.”
My brows rise. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“How about you let me show you what a gentleman I can be. How about you have dinner with me.”
“I can’t, sorry. I’m on a girls’ weekend.”
“Will she mind?”
Gee, this man is pushy. I like it.
I know Viv, and she’d shove me into this man’s arms instantly. Me, I’m not sure. “I’m not going to dinner with you.” I grin.
His hand clutches his chest. “Oh, you break my heart.”
I laugh. “You’re a smooth talker, Lachlan. Maybe we can have a drink later.”
My chest tightens when he rises from the seat and leans over, placing a small kiss on my cheek.
“I look forward to it,” he whispers in my ear, causing a shiver to run down my spine.
He’s wickedly handsome with his chiseled jaw and a smile to die for. Oh, that dimple. Hopefully, we can catch up later.
I slide my hands down my body, the music vibrating through me. My eyes are closed when a prickling sensation up my spine snaps them open again. They connect with those familiar blue diamond irises that seem to eat me up from across the dance floor. Lachlan. The song “Hungry Eyes” pops into my head. Now, if only he’d come dance with me like Johnny from Dirty Dancing.