CHAPTER TEN
Since Uncle Yank’s television interview three days ago, Sophie had been inundated with phone calls from persistent men asking her on dates. She’d been pointed to on the street and inundated with flowers. All because one of the major cable networks had picked up on the interview and included it in a special broadcast entitled “Matchmaking Relatives: Are they a meddling nuisance or a prime way to hook up in an uncertain world?” Sophie, herself, had been avoiding calls from the producer to do a follow-up interview. Talk about unwanted publicity. She really couldn’t take much more harassment.
Sophie hung up on her most persistent caller of the day, her sister Micki’s best friend, John Roper. He was looking for a replacement confidante while her sister was away, and he’d turned to Sophie. If she were to date a ballplayer, she had to admit Roper had potential. He was more refined than most, a metrosexual type who enjoyed the finer things in life. Though trouble followed Roper like a magnet, he was definitely fun to be around.
Fun or not, Roper was still a ballplayer with a thick head and a stubborn personality. Oh wait. That was Riley, she thought, laughing at her own joke.
“Hey, babe.”
Speak of the devil. Sophie glanced up, startled at the sound of Riley’s voice. It was as if she’d conjured him. Her attention flitted over him and she hated to admit he was still a feast for the senses. His faded jeans molded to his strong thighs and his unshaven face and light tan looked sexy paired with a pale blue collared tee.
“Well, well, well. What brings you to this side of the world?” Forcing herself to remain behind her desk—the only protection she could find at the moment—she aimed for a casual and unaffected air.
He walked inside as if Florida had never happened and settled himself on the corner of her desk. “I wanted to see how you were handling your fifteen minutes of fame.”
He treated her to a grin that had once melted her defenses, but now she knew better. She’d let them down once before and lived to regret it.
Riley glanced at the flowers surrounding her, a definite frown marring his handsome face. “Your allergies must be bothering you with these things taking up so much air space,” he said, his tone sarcastic.
“Not a bit,” she said, and tried not to smile. If she didn’t know better she’d think he was jealous of her newfound attention. She checked her watch, eager to have him gone before she did something she’d regret. Like throw herself into his arms just one more time. “I’m busy, so…”
“Want to get a bite to eat?” he blurted out.
She raised her eyes. A nervous muscle actually twitched in his jaw. She immediately rejected the thought. No way was Riley anxious about seeing her again. Nothing about women rattled Riley.
As for his question, she would not go out with him. Been there done that, she thought, quelling temptation. “Thanks anyway, but I have plans.”
“With one of your suitors?” he asked with definite distaste. “You can’t be serious.”
She tried not to laugh, but with his use of the antiquated term, now she was certain. Riley was squirming. And she was female enough to enjoy his discomfort.
“I didn’t realize our relationship dictated I had to explain or answer to you.” She focused on her freshly done nails. “Oh, that’s right. We don’t have a relationship.”
He rose and rounded the desk. Looming over her, he gripped the sides of her chair and leaned close. She inhaled, taking in his fresh scent and trying to ignore the sexual desire galloping through her. Apparently her body didn’t understand what her mind and heart already did.
“I thought when two people slept together, they had something,” he said, his eyes flashing with equal parts desire and determination.
She didn’t know where this change of heart had come from, and emotionally, she couldn’t afford to find out. Around Riley, self-protection would be a smart tactic.
“And I thought when the last words exchanged after sex were ‘I’m going to pack,’ that something equaled nothing.”
“I don’t call what’s happening between us right now nothing.” His lips hovered over hers, teasing. Tantalizing.
She fisted her hands, digging her nails into her skin to avoid acting on that something and kissing him senseless.
“Riley?” she said on a husky purr, one she couldn’t control.
“Hmm?”
“We had fun and all, but I am not going there again.” She couldn’t get a handle on his varying mood swings. She didn’t know how to deal with a man like him, nor did she have the inclination to try.
He’d already proven how easily he could turn on her. Since she couldn’t control Riley—or her feelings for him—she had to send him away now. Before she let herself care even more. It was the only means of preservation she could think of, because he was a man sure to leave again. At some point, it would be for good.
“Would it help if I said I was wrong?” he asked.
She shut her eyes, steeling herself against his gentle voice and implied apology. “We’re different, Riley.”
“Opposites attract.”
“We’re like oil and water. We don’t mix.”
“I prefer to think of us as a more combustible combination.” He turned his head and his lips settled on her cheek in a soft kiss. “Want to see the sparks?”
She lifted her hands to his shoulders and pushed him away. “It was fun but it’s over. No more quickies for us.” She spun her chair back around and stood, gesturing toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”
“You must be extra busy. I heard about the computer virus and how the contracts were distributed without permission,” he said, understanding and sympathy in his voice.
“You don’t have anything to worry about. None of our clients do. Our lawyers are on top of the situation. Everything’s fine.”
He grinned. “Glad to hear it. Then you can come for dinner. You have to take a break to eat anyway.”
“I told you I have plans,” she lied.
He shrugged, seemingly undeterred and unfazed. “Break them.”
“No.”
“You can’t possibly want to go out with one of these bozos,” he said, waving at the flowers.
“You mean after having experienced the great Riley Nash?” she asked, forcing a laugh. “You know what? It’s time for you to leave. You have no right to show up here and make demands. You have even less right to act like a jealous idiot. You made your choice, now I’m making mine.” She turned her back and waited for whatever comeback he had.
Seconds that felt like minutes passed in silence. Suddenly she heard footsteps walking away.
She exhaled hard, grateful that she could now deal with the lump in her throat and lead weight in her chest. Slowly she retreated to her desk and lowered herself into her chair, closing her eyes.
When she opened them, Riley still stood in the doorway. “I’m glad to see you’re more affected than you wanted me to realize.”
“You’re a weasel,” she muttered.
“No, babe, I just don’t do the things you expect, and you know what? You like that about me. You don’t know how to deal with me, but you do enjoy me.”
She lifted the first thing she could find, a block of sticky notes, and leveled it across the room, but the lightweight object dropped uselessly to the floor.
“When you decide to come around, we could work on your throwing arm.” He grinned.
She grabbed for another object.
He laughed and ducked out the door before she could hurl the paperweight at him.
Alone, she slammed her hand on the intercom button and told her secretary to hold all her calls and turn away any visitors.
The urge to run after him was strong, but Sophie knew better and she was not going to give herself a chance to second-guess her decision to turn him away. No, she was going to move on. She was going to go out and have fun, to heck with the man who wanted to turn her life upside down.
She headed to Cindy’s office and they agreed to go to Quarters, the new it sports bar in town, for drinks after work. Anything to keep her mind off of Riley, she thought. And when Roper called once more, she invited him to join them.
* * *
Riley left Sophie and met up with Mike by the elevators. They headed for Houston’s for some decent ribs and a good amount of beer. Riley knew he was feeling sorry for himself for not getting through to Sophie, but he couldn’t help it. He was a man who usually got his way with a charming smile or good-old-boy wink. Sophie made him work for what he wanted and he knew damn well that was part of her allure. Not that he desired her only because he couldn’t have her, but he did admire her resolve.
Like a good, solid football game, the one who hung in there the longest was bound to win. If Riley understood nothing else, it was determination.
He was preoccupied with his thoughts and, thank God, Mike was smart enough to shut up and eat. His friend didn’t push for conversation, nor did he give Riley a hard time about obviously striking out with Sophie. For that, Riley paid the dinner bill, and when Mike suggested they hit Quarters Sports Bar next, a place co-owned by one of their ex-teammates, Riley agreed. Some more liquor felt like a good idea about now.
No sooner had he entered the bar than his cell phone rang. He glanced down, saw his mother’s Mississippi number and stepped outside to take the call in private.
“Mom?” he asked, as he snapped the phone open.
“No, son, it’s your father,” Harlan said.
Riley leaned against the glass front beneath a large awning. “How are you?” he asked. He’d been meaning to call home, but dreaded the inevitable conversation with his mother about Spencer.
For a long time, he’d thought he wanted more information, but since actually meeting the man, he’d done everything he could to avoid learning the truth. Had they been in love? Or had Riley been Spencer’s misguided way of trying to get over being gay? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, so he’d sidestepped the very people who probably had the answers.
“Life’s good. Your mother said you’ve been impossible to reach lately and I promised her I’d get in touch.”
Riley heard the unspoken reproach. “I’m not in a place where I can talk. I should’ve called but I’ve been busy. Tell Mother I’ll call first thing in the morning.”
His stepfather cleared his throat. “What happened in Florida?” the senator asked without warning.
Riley stiffened. “How did you know I was in Florida?” He hadn’t told his mother he’d gone to seek out Spencer.
“Knowledge is my business, son.”
Riley studied the dirty underside of the awning. He didn’t appreciate his stepfather keeping tabs on him. “I like to think my life is my own.”
“It is, but you have to realize my right hand and I need to stay on top of this story about your… er…about Spencer Atkins,” Harlan said, lowering his voice.
Ridiculous, Riley thought. It wasn’t as if anybody was listening. “So far nobody’s found out about my relationship to the man. I don’t see that changing.”
“It’s in all of our best interests that it doesn’t.”
“I realize that.” And he’d intended to ask Sophie to keep an ear out at the office for any sign of trouble, but he’d never gotten that far.
The fact was, the woman had him so tied up in knots, he couldn’t think straight.
“Riley? I asked how your off-season workouts are going.”
“Just fine. Listen, I have to run but give Mom my love and don’t worry about anything. Things here are under control,” he said to reassure the older man.
“I know that they are,” Harlan said in his typically self-assured way. “I’m certain Spencer Atkins has his hands full with his own crises, and reporters are too busy digging into his current problems to worry about his past.”
Riley nodded. “I take it you also heard that his agency had a major computer meltdown and his form contracts were sent out over the Internet? Hundreds of contacts and business associates who had no business knowing what was in those documents now do.”
Harlan actually chuckled. “I did hear something to that effect.”
Riley shook his head, as always in awe of the man and his ability to unearth private information. “You are good.”
“Yes, well, as a politician, I must keep myself informed of everything and anything that might affect my position or my family.”
“I understand.” He’d grown up with Harlan’s philosophy imprinted on his brain.
Position first, family a close second, both intertwined, Riley thought. Harlan would do almost anything to make sure his senate seat and run for the White House was protected. “I’ll talk to you soon,” Riley promised.
“You bet.”
Riley disconnected and headed back for the bar and a nice strong drink. A hard drink, one a step up from beer. Before he had the chance to order, he heard a familiar laugh and his gut clenched with unmistakable awareness.
Following the tantalizing sound, he turned his head and caught Sophie’s startled wide eyes. She lifted her glass to him, in silent acknowledgment, before returning her attention to—another man.
* * *
Sophie had been at the bar for half an hour before Riley suddenly showed up. No big surprise, since this was the newest sports bar in town, but she’d come out for a break from the phone calls and flowers. She’d also wanted time to not think about Riley. Obviously that wasn’t going to happen.
She took one look at him and her breath caught and her throat grew tight, longing filling her. “Why can’t I catch a break?”
Cindy shot her a look of silent understanding, one only another woman could achieve, and continued to talk about the fixed computer files in order to distract her.
Nothing could take Sophie’s mind off the man at the bar, not even the white-wine spritzer in front of her, but she appreciated her friend’s attempt. As for the office computer system, they’d gotten back on track finally. The tech guys insisted it wasn’t a real derivative of a virus, but more like someone had tampered with the system. They’d backtracked and tried to figure it out, but the trace led nowhere and they’d chalked it up to a freak occurrence.
“Good evening, ladies.” Miguel Cambias approached the table. “I’m so glad you called,” he said to Cindy, then leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
Cindy flushed pink. “And I’m glad you could join us.” She patted the empty seat they’d saved for him.
Another chair for Roper remained open next to Sophie and she wished her sister’s friend would hurry up and join them.
She looked up and smiled at their new guest. “Hello, Miguel,” Sophie said in her most gracious voice.
She still didn’t like the man, but she trusted Cindy’s instincts. Until she had a reason to think otherwise, Miguel was a presence she’d put up with when she had to. No reason to make her friend uncomfortable.
“We were just talking about the sudden change in weather,” Cindy said to her date. “From warm to roasting hot in mid-March. It’s so unusual.”
To Cindy’s credit, she smoothly changed the subject from the problems at work, keeping Miguel in the dark—where he belonged. Sophie relaxed, her shoulders lowering as her tension eased a notch.
“If you think this is hot for March, you should come to my country. The Dominican Republic is always hot. You would love it there.” As he spoke, he slid his arm behind Cindy’s chair in a gesture that seemed natural, not forced.
According to Cindy, they’d begun seeing each other exclusively. She was happy for her friend, who deserved someone to treat her well. She rarely spoke about her life in California, but Sophie sensed it hadn’t always been an easy one.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” John Roper said, joining them.
Miguel signaled for the waitress and ordered a Chivas Regal, while Roper requested a martini.
A slow song replaced the latest pop tune and Miguel gestured to the small dance floor. “Would you like to dance?” he asked Cindy.
She met Sophie’s gaze, silently asking if she was comfortable enough for her to walk away.
Sophie glanced over her shoulder only to find Riley no longer watching Sophie’s table. Instead he was engaged in conversation with his friend Mike, whom she recognized as a client of their agency, and two well-endowed, obviously interested women.
She swallowed hard, reminding herself she’d turned him away tonight. “Go. Dance,” she said to Cindy. She didn’t need her friend for backup when there was little chance Riley would join them. Besides, she was an adult, and she could handle his disinterest as easily as she’d handled the interest he’d shown earlier today.
They left hand in hand, leaving Sophie with Roper, who enjoyed nothing more than good conversation. About himself.
Though distracted by jealousy, Sophie plastered a smile onto her face and tried hard to pay attention to the story of Roper’s latest escapade. Her sister, Micki, had her hands full keeping her best friend out of trouble, and with Micki away, John Roper had dug himself a nice-sized hole.
He lifted his glass, took a large sip, swallowed and said, “It would have been nice if the lady I met at the gym had told me she was married before I slept with her.”
Sophie blinked but before she could reply, John continued. “Can you believe she lied to me?” he asked, painting himself and not the husband as the wounded party.
She figured John had a point though, since the woman’s husband had tracked him down and threatened to smash his face in if he went near his wife again.
“It also would have been nice if she’d mentioned that he was an amateur boxer.” Roper downed the rest of his martini. “Glad I ordered another,” he said.
“It’s amazing the media hasn’t picked up on this one.”
Roper laughed. “It’s early in the season. Give them time.”
Sophie sipped her drink. “Perhaps you ought to know a little more about a person before jumping into bed with them?” she suggested, trying to think about what her sister would tell her friend. Thank goodness Micki would be back in two days. Then she could handle Roper’s latest crisis.
“And take the mystery out of it?” Roper asked, laughing. “No, you’re right. And contrary to popular belief, I don’t pick up strange women often.”
“Well, now you’ve been reminded about the reason why.”
The waitress suddenly appeared and placed an unopened bottle of wine on the table.
“There must be some mistake. We didn’t order this,” Sophie said.
The other woman turned and pointed across the room. “Compliments of the man at the bar.”
Both Sophie and Roper glanced over. A blond stranger smiled at her.
Sophie also noted that Riley had disappeared in the few minutes since she’d last seen him. She tried not to care, but her hands sweated and nausea overtook her at the thought of him leaving the bar with another woman.
Roper examined the bottle. “Nice vintage, Soph.”
She didn’t care about the cost. “I can’t go anywhere without being harassed,” she said on a frustrated groan.
“I’d hardly call a ninety-dollar bottle of wine harassment,” Roper said.
“It is if you aren’t interested.” She looked up at the waiting cocktail waitress. “Please tell the gentleman that I appreciate the offer, but no, thank you.”
The other woman inclined her head. “Whatever you say.”
“Hey wait!” Roper complained, as she left with the bottle.
Sophie couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t you think that instead of wishing you could take the free drink, you ought to be insulted that strange men are sending expensive bottles of wine to me despite the fact that I’m sitting here with you?” she asked.
He leaned back in his seat. “Nah. We’re obviously platonic friends. Not like those two.” He tipped his head in the direction of the dance floor, where Cindy and Miguel were locked tightly together.
A real pang of envy flooded Sophie, for what she’d had with Riley and what they’d never have again. She turned away from the sight of Cindy and her new love.
The waitress returned, this time with a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne. “He’s stubborn. He said to ask how you liked the flowers.”
“I’ve received so many I lost count,” she muttered.
The other woman laughed. “Apparently he knew you’d say that, because he said to tell you that his name is Steve Harris and his were the two dozen red ones along with chocolates from your favorite store.”
Sophie shivered, recalling asking Nicki, their temp, how the man knew where to buy her chocolates. Nicki had assumed Sophie wouldn’t mind and had questioned Sophie’s secretary, then divulged the information to the stranger. Sophie had nearly fired her on the spot. Only her begging and promise not to mess up again had saved her job.
Roper laughed. “Do you like persistent men?” he asked Sophie.
She rubbed her forehead with her hand. “I have a splitting headache and this man’s pushiness is borderline scary.” She waved away the second bottle. “Please tell him no, thank you and I’m not going to change my mind.” Sophie had had enough and rose from her seat. “No offense, but I really need to go home.”
John immediately stood, too. “Are you taking a cab?”
She nodded.
“I’ll walk you out and help you hail one.” Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew some bills and left them on the table.
She placed a hand on his forearm. “You stay,” she urged. “Why should you lose a perfectly good table just because I’m a spoilsport?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”
She nodded. “Tell Cindy I’ll see her at work in the morning, okay?”
“No problem. You take care.” He gave her a friendly hug.
Sophie smiled. “Thanks, John.”
A few minutes later, she’d wound her way through the crowded bar and ended up on the street. The sun had set while they were inside and a warm breeze, too warm for the time of year, settled on her shoulders.
She brushed her heavy bangs off her forehead and searched uptown for a taxi with a light indicating it was vacant, but typical of New York City at night, she had a long wait.
Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder. She whirled around and found herself face-to-face with Steve Harris, the man who’d sent her the flowers, chocolate and both bottles from the bar. Bottles she’d turned down. And he didn’t appear too pleased with her.