CHAPTER FIVE
Amy walked through Sparks, the steak house chosen by Roper for their lunch, and found herself taken in by the old-boy charm of the establishment. She appreciated the decor and she tried to focus on that—on anything except the man watching her intently as she approached.
Roper rose as she came closer and waited until she was seated and they were alone before settling back in. “I’m glad you could join me,” he said, his voice warm and welcoming.
“I’m glad, too.” She placed her napkin on her lap and took a second to cover her stomach with her hand, hoping to ease the butterflies inside, made worse because the car ride had taken longer than it should have. The vice president was in town, roads were closed and gridlock was the word of the day. “I’m sorry I’m late. The traffic was horrendous.”
“Not a problem. It gave me time to relax a little first.” His iPhone rang. “Excuse me. Phone call.” He answered, had a quick conversation that sounded much like the one she’d heard New Year’s Eve with his mother, before meeting her gaze once more. “Sorry, that was my sister,” he said, placing his phone on the table.
“No problem.” She clasped her hands together, thinking that his family most definitely was his problem.
“Where was I? Oh, yes. I’m glad you’re here and I ordered us champagne.” He inclined his head to the side of the table, and for the first time she noticed the ice bucket and the bottle chilling inside.
Memories of New Year’s Eve rose quickly and vividly in her mind before she could shut them out. But she couldn’t concentrate on business if she was busy remembering how soft and moist his lips had felt on hers or how the intoxicating scent of his cologne had wrapped around her, enveloping her in heat.
She cleared her throat. “It’s a working lunch,” she reminded him, hating that she sounded stiff, but knowing it was necessary.
“And we will work. But first—” he treated her to a sexy smile “—I’d like to toast our new relationship.”
“Relationship?” The word came out more like a squeak.
“Working relationship.” A teasing sparkle lit his gaze. “Isn’t that why we’re here?”
She exhaled hard. “I’d love to toast. I just can’t promise to drink.”
“Still recovering from New Year’s?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m over it. I mean—”
“I understand what you meant.” He laughed and leaned forward in his seat. “And if you’d just relax around me, I won’t even ask why you haven’t returned any of my calls.”
Her cheeks grew uncomfortably hot. “I needed to distance my work and my personal relationships.”
“Which I might have understood if you’d called me back and explained. Or if you’d told me you were working at the Hot Zone to begin with.” He gestured to the waiter, who began to unwrap, uncork and pour the champagne.
“The subject of where I was working never came up. But I admit not returning your phone calls was a little cowardly of me. I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry about the reporters and the articles in today’s paper.” His normally easygoing smile disappeared, replaced by obvious regret. “I have no idea how they zeroed in on us after New Year’s and I certainly never thought they’d make us newsworthy. I took a private booth back here, so hopefully we’re safe from prying eyes.”
His iPhone buzzed suddenly, shaking on the table and breaking the connection subtly flowing between them. Although he’d set the phone to vibrate, the intrusion was just as noticeable.
Shooting her an apologetic glance, he picked up the phone. This time, however, his tone was different, brittle even. “Bad time. I’m busy. I’ll call you later.” He disconnected the call and placed the phone back on the table.
She met his gaze. “Your brother.”
He nodded. “You’re astute.”
“I just remembered what you told me the other night. Where does he live?”
“Nowhere permanent. Right now, he’s staying with a friend not too far from here.”
“So all three of you are in the city.”
He nodded. “We love our mother, but distance seems to work best for all of us,” he said, laughing.
“Speaking of your mother, I suppose she’s going to call next?” she asked.
He groaned. “Probably, but I’d rather not think about her right now. So back to New Year’s… I’m sorry for the press showing up like that. If I’d known, I’d have taken you out the back or used my car so they never would have gotten a shot of you in the first place.”
“Apparently, I need to get used to the New York media. According to the rest of the office, the articles about us did you a favor by directing everybody’s attention to your personal life instead of your career.” She raised an eyebrow, curious about his view on their joint minutes of fame.
He burst out laughing, a response she didn’t expect.
“That’s rich,” he said. “Eight months ago, those same Hot Zone people wanted my personal life out of the papers. Now they’re applauding the coverage.” Without warning, he reached over and placed his hand over hers.
The heat was immediate and intense.
“But you don’t deserve the publicity.” His voice grew low and husky. “So I am sorry.”
“I thought, as a publicist, I’d be remaining behind the scenes. But it’s fine. Really.” She waved away his apology, trying to act in control and, oh, so nonchalant over the incident, which at the moment affected her less than the man himself.
Ever since their first meeting, it didn’t take more than a touch to remind her of how easily he could seduce her with a look, a glance or a simple gesture. She’d never had such an immediate connection with a man before and she didn’t know how to ignore the sparks that sizzled between them now.
“Okay, then, it looks as if once again we’re starting over,” he said, pleased. He lifted his hand off of hers and raised his glass.
Relieved he wasn’t touching her anymore and disappointed at the same time, she lifted her glass.
“To us,” he said simply.
Unable and unwilling to argue, she repeated his words. “To us.”
She took a polite sip and placed the champagne back on the table. They looked through the menu, then listened to the daily specials. She ordered a mixed green salad and rainbow trout, he chose oysters on the half shell and prime sirloin steak.
She studied him as he spoke to the waiter. Roper was a man comfortable in his own skin and too handsome in his tan-and-white-striped dress shirt, opened at the throat. He might be suffering personally and professionally, but he hid it well. She guessed his years of dealing with the press had given him a thick skin. Personally, she’d never had one herself. She wasn’t surprised he’d ordered steak and opted not to read too much into his choice of appetizer, assuring herself it was only her mind that was on aphrodisiacs and sex, not his.
After the waiter walked away, she folded her hands and decided to hit on the reason for their lunch. “I understand you need my services to clear out the clutter in your life so that you can better focus on your career.”
He tipped his head and nodded. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Micki had told her she’d be his handler, but somehow she didn’t think he’d appreciate the term, which implied he needed babying. “Well, you’ll be happy to know I’ve given your situation some thought already.”
It helped that she’d spent New Year’s with him and seen his family dynamics firsthand. The phone calls today had merely cemented her earlier impression. Taking her secretary’s advice, she pulled a notepad and pen from her large handbag. “Let’s start by listing the things or people in your life causing you to get sidetracked. If we tackle and eliminate them one by one, that will leave your mind clear for baseball.”
Roper raised an eyebrow, amused by her suggestion. “You think you can take on my family and eliminate their issues?”
“If they’re the sole source of your distraction, I know I can.” Her eyes were on fire with determination.
He pictured Amy, petite in stature but not personality, dealing with his larger-than-life, never-take-no-for-an-answer mother, and he glanced heavenward for strength.
“You start talking. Tell me more about each family member and their main problem, why they need your attention constantly each day. I’ll take notes and put together a plan.” She raised her pen, ready to write.
No sooner had he chuckled than his phone vibrated once more. He glanced at the number, shot Amy a you-were-right look, and felt more certain than ever that not only was Amy outnumbered, but she’d be outmaneuvered in a matter of days.
He spoke quickly, then disconnected the call.
“Third call in…” She looked at her watch. “Ten minutes. No wonder you can’t find time to get healthy. You’re mentally and physically drained by the forces around you.”
“Force is a good word to describe my mother,” he mused.
She held out her hand. “Give it over.”
“What?” He hadn’t a clue what she was talking about.
“Hand the iPhonephone over.”
“Hell, no,” he said, shocked by her gall.
She withdrew her hand. “Fine. Then shut it off. You’re at a business lunch and common courtesy dictates you keep your mind on business.”
He grinned, finally getting it. “Aah, it’s my attention you want,” he said in a cocky tone. “I can assure you that even if I answer the phone, my thoughts are solely on you, babe.”
She rolled her eyes. “Did you forget why we’re here? To organize your life. To make sure you learn how to compartmentalize and make baseball your priority again. So it’s your choice. Shut it off or hand it over,” she insisted, not backing down.
Roper glanced at Amy’s fiery brown eyes and determined expression and realized she was deadly serious. Who knew the woman was a ballbuster?
Who knew he’d like that in a woman?
The last female who’d demanded that he put her first had been pushing for a ring. And since he’d been as interested in a commitment with her as he’d been in the blond highlights his hairdresser had been trying to talk him into, he’d bought her a diamond bracelet goodbye gift and broken things off.
“Well? Choose one or I’m walking away from this assignment.” And in case he wasn’t sure she meant business, she turned and reached for her purse hanging from the back of her chair.
Damn, she was cute when she was being bossy.
He shocked himself by turning off his iPhone, pushing them to the side of the table and focusing completely, solely on her. “I’m all yours.”
“Good. That’s how it should be.” She swallowed hard, obviously not as at ease around him as she wanted him to believe.
Their attraction was something neither could ignore. He could let her have the upper hand when it came to their professional relationship, but he had no doubt that sexually, he was in control.
And he intended to make use of the upper hand. When the time was right.
“Let’s hear your game plan.”
The waitress served their appetizers, and while they ate, she outlined her goals. “You have three family members pulling you at all hours of the day. You need to set limits. But first, let’s tackle each one of them. Your mother. What is the main reason she’s been calling you?” Amy asked. She put a forkful of salad into her mouth, then licked a crumble of blue cheese off her bottom lip with her tongue, wreaking havoc with his attention.
He stared at her moist lips, moving as she delicately chewed her food.
She met his gaze. Obviously embarrassed, she cleared her throat. “Your mother?” she reminded him.
“Right.” He paused to suck an oyster from its shell. The food might be considered an aphrodisiac, but Amy supplied all the arousal power he needed. “Other than asking me to lend Ben money?” Which he was sure she would have done again on the phone today if he’d given her more time. “My mother needs a job of her own. Her lifestyle is killing my bank account. And she’s bored. She misses acting, not that she’s willing to admit as much.”
“Hollywood won’t hire her because of all the roles she already turned down over the years?” Amy guessed.
He laughed. “Hell, no. Harrison Smith—he’s a big-time director—sent her a script for a television pilot over three months ago that was tailor-made for her. He even offered her more money than she deserves at this point in her career.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “She said no, but apparently he’s waiting for her to change her mind. For some reason, the man only wants Cassandra Lee for the role and has been pursuing her relentlessly.”
Amy nodded in understanding. “That’s because she’s good,” Amy said. “What will it take to convince her?”
He shrugged. “She won’t change her mind. First, she thinks television is beneath her. But more important, my mother refuses to play the role of a grandmother, no matter how elegant, dignified or perfect the role may be. She thinks spending thousands in plastic surgery and Botox justify her desire to be cast as an ingénue.” He shook his head in disgust and frustration. “Sad thing is, she’s been saying it to herself for so long, she believes it.”
He glanced at Amy, looking for a glimmer of understanding. Heaven only knew why he needed it from her when he’d never wanted it from anyone else. At least she was too busy jotting down notes to realize.
“So tell me more about your brother.”
The busboy had cleared their plates, and the waitress set their lunches in front of them. Talking about his family had killed his appetite. “Ben needs a job and a life.”
“I’ve been there,” she said with more compassion than he’d afforded his brother lately. “I lived at home for so long it became too comfortable. Maybe that’s what’s going on with Ben. He just needs the right incentive to get him moving again.”
Roper had thought the same thing.
“Does he have any job options? I don’t mean investments, but legitimate employment opportunities that you know of?”
Roper took a long sip of water. “His head is so far in the clouds, he wouldn’t know an opportunity if it was handed to him. I’ve offered to make some calls and see if there are any openings as a high school baseball coach in a decent community. He’s good enough to teach, he just wasn’t solid enough to play pro. Ben won’t even consider it.”
“When he runs out of money, he’ll have no choice. Why don’t you give me some leads and I’ll see what I can come up with for him.”
Roper raised an eyebrow.
“It’s my job, remember? Come on.”
He rattled off some old ball players he knew were into coaching who might be able to use a guy like Ben. Although he loved his brother, it rankled to have to call in favors knowing Ben wouldn’t appreciate the effort and would probably turn down any opportunity Roper uncovered because he felt he deserved better.
“Just be prepared. Ben won’t make it easy. He’ll play the guilt card because I had the father with the talent, while his dad had none. He likes living on pipe dreams of what life owes him, instead of what he could actually do to make it on his own.”
Amy jotted down a few more notes. “Delusions of grandeur,” she said without glancing up. Her brows were furrowed in concentration and her lips puckered as she wrote. Lips he still wanted to kiss more than he wanted to breathe. But she was working with him now. There would be time.
Neither one of them had eaten much, but he sensed until she finished dissecting his family, she wouldn’t be interested in food.
“Are you ready to talk about Sabrina?” she asked.
He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Sure am. She’s the easiest one. My little sister is marrying a great guy. A normal accountant. The wedding is planned for next fall, after my season ends. I’m paying for the big day, but that isn’t a problem. I want to pay. She deserves the best. Problem is, she isn’t in charge of her own wedding; our mother is. Or at least she wants to be.”
“Long distance?”
He nodded.
“Sabrina calls me several times a day with another of Mom’s outlandish ideas, things Sabrina doesn’t want but Mom thinks are best. Sabrina wants me to mediate, but frankly, I don’t want to do any more than write the damn check.”
Amy chuckled. “Typical man.”
He grinned. “I tune them out when possible, but if I don’t answer the phone right away, they hunt me down. Don’t get me wrong. I love them but—”
“They need to live their own lives,” Amy finished for him. “But they haven’t had to since you’ve always done everything for them.” A few more notes and Amy finally put her pen down and met his gaze. “Got it all,” she said, then picked up her knife and fork. “God, I’m starving.” She dug into her meal with a gusto he’d never seen in a female.
Just watching her renewed his appetite and they finished their meal in comfortable silence. As soon as their waiter placed the check on the table, he placed his hand on the leather folder.
“I’ve got it,” she said, reaching for the billfold at the same time so their fingers met.
He’d always let Micki pay when they went out for business and he should allow Amy to do the same, especially this first business lunch when he figured she needed to feel in control.
But he let his hand deliberately linger so he could touch her a little longer. “You already talked me into turning off my phone. Don’t add insult to injury by paying the check. My fragile male ego can’t handle it.”
She laughed. “I don’t think your ego has been fragile a day in your life.”
“You’d be surprised,” he said, sobering. She probably thought the insults from Buckley and the fans rolled off his back. Maybe at one time they would have, but not any longer. He was afraid they were right and he was a washed-up has-been.
Without warning, she slipped her hand from his. “I’ll get it next time,” she said, leaving him with the distinct impression she did understand the fragile ego thing.
Just as he understood hers. “No, this is business. I don’t mind letting the Hot Zone pick up the tab.” Before she could get too cocky, he added, “I’ll get it on our next date.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he glanced down at the check, ignoring her so she couldn’t argue. Because there would be a real date.
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 iPhone 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 birth 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 cell, 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.