Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males (177 page)

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Authors: Kelly Favor,Locklyn Marx

BOOK: Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males
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She looked down at it.
 
He was expecting a thanks, but all she said was, “What was it about?”

“What?”

“Full Dark, No Stars.
 
What was it about?”

“Four novellas,” he said.
 
“My favorite was the one where the wife found out her husband was
actually a deranged serial killer.”
 

She nodded, thinking about this.
 
“Thanks for helping me,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he said.
 
A strand of her hair had escaped from one
of her braids, and before he could stop himself, he reached over and pushed it
off her face.
 
She whipped her head
away from him, like she’d been slapped.
 

“Sorry,” he said,
 
“I
didn’t – “

“It’s fine.”
 
But she
was standing up and gathering her stuff, then heading down to the other end of
the dugout.
 
“Thanks again for
helping me.”

And then she was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~Chapter Five~

 

When Alyssa finally stepped into a cab at six o’clock that night,
she was exhausted.
 
Her hair had
come out of her pigtails hours ago, her hand hurt from taking so many notes,
her face hurt from perpetually smiling as she met person after person, and her
feet hurt her from walking around all day.
 
Who knew this job was going to be so physically demanding?
 
To top it all off, she’d promised to
meet up with Jessa Fields, an old college acquaintance, for drinks tonight
before heading back to her hotel room and writing up tomorrow’s column.

At least it would be an easy one to write.
 
Today’s time with the team had been
relatively uneventful.
 
She’d met
most of the players, until they’d all begun to blur together into one big
smiling mass.
 
She’d met the general
manager, Burt Hughes, although the owner, Billingsley, had been absent.
 
Which was pretty rude, Alyssa thought as
the cab weaved its way through the streets of Brooklyn on the short ride back
to her hotel.
 
He’d missed his
meeting with her yesterday, and she hadn’t gotten so much as a call or an email
to apologize.

Back at the hotel, she showered, letting the day wash off of
her.
 
She wrapped herself in a towel
and then surveyed the contents of her suitcase.
 
She wanted to step into her favorite
jeans and a comfy cardigan, but she was going to meet Jessa.
 
Jessa was one of those women who would most
certainly be dressed to the nines, and by the sound of the place she’d picked
for them to meet – some bar called Clique – Alyssa had the feeling
that to show up in jeans and a sweater wouldn’t be appropriate.

So she pulled out the one going-out outfit she’d brought, purchased
right before she’d left.
 
A tight,
short black skirt, knee-high boots, and a sleeveless black shirt that plunged
down in the front.
 
She topped it
off with a shimmery cardigan, let her hair hang loose and curly down her back,
and used her eyeliner to create a smoky eye.
 
She dabbed on some lip gloss, surveyed
herself in the mirror, and grinned.
 
Not bad.
 

She took the elevator down to the lobby, and let the doorman hail
her a cab, which dropped her off in front of Clique.
 
Tables of smartly dressed people dotted
the floor, and the walls of the bar were lined with soft-looking red leather
sofas.
 
It looked exclusive, posh,
and intimidating.
 
She sighed and
scanned the area for Jessa.

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around.

“Alyssa!”
 
Jessa
squealed, grabbing her in a hug.
 
“Oh my God, I missed you!
 
You look fabulous!”
 

“So do you,” Alyssa said, not sure how Jessa could have missed her
so much since they were never really that close in the first place.
 
Not to mention the fact that the only
reason Jessa had known she was going to be in Brooklyn was because she’d read
it on Alyssa’s facebook.
 

“Come on, let’s sit,” Jessa said.
 
She grabbed Alyssa’s hand like they were
in middle school or something, and led her to a table front and center.
 
“This is the best table to meet guys,”
she declared.
 
She sat down and
pushed her long blonde hair out of her eyes.
 
Alyssa didn’t remember her wearing it
that long in college, but then she realized it was extensions.
 
At least, she was pretty sure.
 
No way anyone’s hair was that full and
shiny naturally.

“I’m not really in a place to meet guys,” Alyssa said.

“Oh, right.”
 
Jessa
reached out and grabbed her hand again.
 
“I heard about you and Joel.”

“From who?”

“Oh, you know.”
 
Jessa
waved her hand like gossip just floated around.
 
Which, when Alyssa really thought about
it, she guessed was true.
 
“So what
happened?
 
You guys seemed like such
a perfect couple.”

A cocktail waitress came over and set down a couple of menus.
 
“We just grew apart,” Alyssa said.

Jessa rolled her eyes.
 
“Honey, no one ever just grows apart.
 
There’s always a reason.
 
So what was it?”

Alyssa thought about Joel Martin, the guy she’d dated all through
college and for two years after graduation.
 
She thought about his dark hair, his
perfect smile, the way he could walk into a room and look at her like no one
else was there.
 
He was special, and
he made her feel special.

He’d been a finance major at Syracuse, her a journalism major.
 
But after graduation, something had
changed between them.
 
They’d lived
together in a small apartment in Utica.
 
It had been fine at first.
 
But
then Joel began pressuring her.
 
He
wanted to move to Chicago – he’d been offered a job there, and he was
ready to go.
 
He wanted Alyssa to
quit her job, to start thinking about having a baby.
 
But Alyssa didn’t want that.
 
She’d wanted to work on starting her
career first.
 
She was working at a
little local paper, and Joel was making a lot more money than her, so sometimes
it felt like his job was more important.

Joel had always been generous with money, not that Alyssa had ever
taken advantage.
 
When it came down
to it, though, he thought that just because he made more money than her, that
his job took precedence.
 
They’d
broken up after the millionth conversation about it, when Alyssa realized it
just wasn’t going to work.
 
She
didn’t want to stay home and be a homemaker.
 
She didn’t think there was anything
wrong with women who did – and she definitely wanted children
someday.
 
But she realized that as
long as she was with Joel, he would be calling the shots.

It was like being married to a movie star or something.
 
Like, if you married Brad Pitt and you
were a normal person, you were never going to get a say in the
relationship.
 
You could never say
you didn’t want to move to California if Brad wanted to, because whatever he
was doing was always going to be more important than what you wanted.
 

“We really did just grow apart,” Alyssa said.

“Did you hear that he’s engaged to Hailey Sutton now?”
 
Jessa asked, naming a girl they’d gone
to school with.

“I know,” Alyssa lied, even though this was the first she’d heard
of it.
 
“I sent them an engagement
gift.
 
A salad spinner.”

Jessa looked disappointed, but then her whole face lit up.
 
“Oh my God,” she said, and grabbed
Alyssa’s arm so tight that Alyssa flinched.
 
“Is that Chad Parnell?
 
From the Brooklyn Heat?”

Alyssa looked up and saw Chad walking across the bar, his head
high, grinning at people as he greeted them.

“Yeah,” she said.
 
“That’s Chad.”
 
She met his
eye, and he raised his arm in greeting.

Jessa looked at her in awe.
 
“He’s waving to you!”

“Yeah,” Alyssa said.
 
“I’m here doing a story on the Brooklyn Heat, remember?”
 
Did Jessa even remember that?
 
What was wrong with this girl?
 
She waved back to Chad, who then began
weaving his way through the crowd toward them.

“Oh.
 
My.
 
God.” Jessa sounded like she was about
to faint.
 
“He’s coming over
here!”
 
Alyssa bit back the smile on
her lips.

“Hey,” Chad said.
 
“Fancy seeing you here.
 
What’s going on?”

“Not much,” she said.
 
“This is my, ah… my friend, Jessa.
 
We went to college together.”
 
She hoped by adding the whole ‘we went to college together’ line, Chad
would get the message that her and Jessa weren’t that close, and therefore she
shouldn’t be held responsible for any of Jessa’s crazy behavior.

“Helllo,” Jessa purred, apparently over her nervousness.

“Me and Dax are are going to hang at the bar,” Chad said.
 
“You guys should come sit with us.”

Alyssa started to shake her head no – she’d had enough of
baseball players for the day -- but before she could, Jessa said, “We’d love
to!”

“Great,” Chad said.
 
“What are you ladies drinking?”

“Red wine,” Alyssa said, and sighed.

“Grey Goose martini,” Jessa said.

Once Chad was headed back toward the bar, Jessa grabbed Alyssa’s
hand in a death grip.
 
“Oh my God,”
she said.
 
“He is soo hot.”
 
She rooted around in her purse and
pulled out her compact.
 
“Do I look
okay?”

“You look fine,” Alyssa said.
 
She was starting to get a headache.

They joined Chad at the bar, and a few minutes later, Dax Reynolds
showed up to join them.
 
Alyssa had
downed her glass of wine a little too fast, and when she went to say hello to
Dax, she stumbled a bit on her heels.

“Whoa,” Dax said, putting his hands on her waist to steady
her.
 
“Careful there.”

“Sorry,” she said.
 
“I’m
not used to these shoes.”

“Yeah, yeah, likely story,” he said.
 
But he was grinning.

“Seriously,” she said.
 
“I’m fine.”
 
A few stools
down, Jessa was hanging all over Chad, tilting her head back as she laughed at
every word he said.

“If you’re okay,” Dax said, taking her hand,
 
“then come dance with me.”

“Oh, no,” Alyssa said,
 
“I couldn’t possibly – ”

But he was pulling her through the crowd, and everyone was staring
at them.
 
Well, him.
 
Alyssa assumed they were staring at him,
not her, since no one knew who she was.
 
She didn’t want to dance, but she didn’t want to seem lame.
 
And she could hear Isobel’s voice in her
head, telling her that she needed to get close to the team, to make them trust
her.
 
Of course, Alyssa didn’t know
how she could do that while still writing the truth, but she guessed she’d have
to figure out how to strike some kind of happy medium.

So she danced.
 
And
drank wine.
 
And danced.
 
And dank more wine.
 
And by the time she got home at two in
the morning, she still hadn’t written her column.

 

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