Break Point (4 page)

“And now it is a huge success.”

“That’s right.” He smiled. “Out of the top twenty men and women tennis players in the world, about half attended here. Most have big time endorsements now.”

“That means a lot of money for you.”

“I’m a coach not a manager. Geoffrey was the one who was into the business end of it. I just wanted to play the game, but Geoffrey had his own agenda. He would hone in on promising players and shop them around like prize cattle. That’s what he did with Summer. Now he’s trying to do the same with Nila Norcova”

“Wait a minute, why is Nila hanging out with Geoffrey if she is still affiliated with you?”

“I don’t own these girls.” Vitalie replied. “They can do what they want. That’s why I haven’t said anything to Summer about her engagement to him.

“Y
ou think it’s a bad idea, huh?”

He shook his head. “Why do you suppose a girl like that would be with a guy like him? You know how many good decent men out there would kill to be with her?”

Jake sucked in a breath. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“I just hope that jerk isn’t taking advantage of her.”

Jake turned back toward the court watching as Summer patted herself with a towel. “Let me ask you a question, Mr. Vitalie. This engagement between Geoffrey and Summer—do you think he loves her?”

Anston chuckled, his gaze meeting Jake’s. “I think he loves what she’s worth.”

***

“So how did I look?” Summer beamed, throwing her bag in to the trunk of her cherry-red Porsche. She tossed Jake the keys then slid into the passenger side.

“Not bad.”

“Not bad! Jake, it was awesome.”

“How does your arm feel?”

She wanted to say “great” but she’d be lying. Unzipping the front of her white sweat jacket, she reached up and rubbed her left shoulder. “I guess I shouldn’t expect too much on the first day, right?”

“Healing takes time,” he replied. “Got to be patient.”

He said it like he knew. She glanced at his arm and the scars exposed below the short sleeve. “Thanks for driving,” she finally said. “I haven’t played in a
while and I am sort of tired.”

“No problem. Actually, I’m kind of psyched. It’s not everyday I get to drive a Porsche with a three point six, sixty-eight-hundred horse power engine. You were smart to go with a six-speed manual overdrive instead of the five-speed automatic. Way more efficient.”

“I liked it because it was red,” she corrected “and I don’t speak your language.”

He licked his lips and pulled his sunglasses up to his head. “I should have known a classy girl like you isn’t fluent in grease monkey. So what kind of fuel do you use?”

“The kind that makes the car go,” she answered as if it were a question. Leaning toward him, she turned up the air conditioning.

“Not full blast!” he cautioned. “It taxes the engine.”

She leaned back in her seat, watching him drum his fingers on the wheel with one hand while he leaned against the door with the other. “Okay, I have to ask,” she blurted when curiosity got the best of her. “How would someone like you know all this stuff about cars?

“What do you mean?”

She pulled at his Ralph Lauren T-shirt. “You certainly don’t look like a mechanic to me.”

He cheeks reddened with a smile. “I don’t know. I drive them. I ride in them. I just thought they were worth finding out about. So do you use regular unleaded or premium fuel? Say regular and break my heart.”

“Do I look like someone who pumps her own gas?”

“You know, you should really use premium with an engine like this. Even if you don’t run the car on the track, it needs the premium.
It keeps the insides clean.”

“Why does it matter?”

He slid his hands around the steering wheel, pushing back against the seat. “Okay, let me put it in terms you would understand. Would you use generic shampoo to wash that hair of yours, or would you prefer the high-end, expensive imported stuff from Europe?”

“Those are my only two choices?”

“But you get my point, right? High performance things deserve high maintenance.”

“So I deserve premium fuel. Is that what you mean?”

“Exactly. Which is why I would like to invite you to my place for dinner.”

There was the charm again. She swallowed a giggle and raised a brow. “Do you cook?”

“No, but I do know how to dial a phone.”

“Smart ass,” she laughed, then smacked him on the shoulder. ”Don’t worry. I mean that in a good way.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“No really,” she insisted. “I forgot ho
w much fun it was to be funny.”

“Well said.”

“I mean it.” She leaned against the door and angled her body toward him. “I really had a lot of fun today. I’m playing tennis again and I have you to thank for that.” She reached out placing her hand over his on the gearshift. “Maybe you’re not such as bad guy after all.”

His cheek wrinkled around his mouth when he smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She heard him mumble as the car’s engine
roared in her ears.

Chapter Four

The ocean air stung her wide eyes as Summer leaned out the car window. Mammoth beachside mansions whizzed by her, too quickly to get a good look in between the privacy fences. Exotic sports cars sat idle in circular driveways while well-dressed, tanned people zipped around on fully loaded golf carts.
This was where the elite lived. The rich of the rich.

How the hell did Jake even know how to get here?

“Jake,” she said, pulling her head back in the car. “When you said you lived in a ‘gated community,’ this is not what I envisioned.”

“Well, what
did you think I meant? Prison?”

“That was closer to my impression than this.”

“Thanks,” he said. “You flatter me.”

He turned down a private road, then went another mile or two before stopping at a wrought iron gate. Reaching out the window, he pushed some buttons on a key pad and waited for the doors to swing open.

“It’s a little off the beaten path, but it’s home.”

He pulled around the three-tiered fountain then let her out at the foot of the steep staircase. “Don’t trip going up,” he warned. “It’s marble so they can get slippery right around dusk.”

She pushed the car door closed behind her. The sharp scent of the ocean told her they were way out on the barrier islands, and the incredible quiet told her they were secluded. No boat motors humming in the water, or sea planes buzzing over head. This was truly an obnoxious cliché of a tropical paradise.

Except it wasn’t obnoxious.

”You’re kidding right? You don’t seriously live here, do you?”

“Why do you keep asking me that?”

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect...this.” She spun around in a three-sixty pirouette. “This is a classy beach bungalow on its own barrier island. How does a guy like you wind up in a place like this?”

“I don’t know,” he fished around his jean’s pocket for the house key. ”I guess I’ve always been a big fan of Gilligan’s
Island.”

“Jake, I’m serious. Look at this place. The hou
se, the gardens. It’s amazing.”

“Glad you like it.” He winked then padded up the stairs in front of her with the bulk of their Chinese food. “Years back, I spent some time in the South of France and I really dug their architecture.
Anyway, I saw it and I liked it.”

She looked up at the stately front door, stained glass inlayed in oak. Gigantic windows on either side gave a clear view right through the back of the house to the ocean. “It’s not huge,” he explained with his hand on the knob. “It’s only two bedrooms but you can’t beat the view.”

She followed him through the door and stood in the foyer. It was as if she had stepped into a magazine. The entire back of the house was glass, looking out at nothing but ocean. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn she was standing in the sand.

“I’ll take this stuff to the kitchen.” He slipped the plastic bag from her hand then pointed ahead of them to the great room.
“Make yourself comfortable.”

“No problem” she mumbled, eyeing the hand carved moldings on the ceiling. “Wow, who painted those landscapes up there?”

“The same over-the-top guy who put in the marble stairs. Hey, can you use chopsticks? I can’t remember where I keep the silverware.”

“Chopsticks are fine.”

Summer had searched for three years for something just like this. Cozy enough for just one or two people, but big enough to house every luxury. The living space was one big room with a kitchen and dining area nestled next to a stone fire place. At the far end of the room was a small kidney shape pool with a low far wall, allowing the water to pour like a waterfall to a smaller basin below. It was completely landscaped with live plants and grass with gas-operated tiki lights strategically placed around it.

She padded up to the water edge, looking down at the lanai a few feet below. “
Cool pool.”

“You like it? It’s kind of high maintenance but it has is own sprinkler system to water all the plantings.” He popped his head up from below the kitchen counter and waved two forks in the air. “Found the silverware.”

“Do you swim a lot?” she asked running her hand over the surface.

“On occasion. It’s more for entertainment purposes.” He opened the fridge and leaned on the door. “You want something to drink? I got some beer and decent stash of wine.”

“Ice water is fine, thank you.” Pulling out a bar stool, she sat down at the kitchen island and watched him unscrewed a glass of mineral water. Jake wasn’t one of her father’s normal stooges if he could afford a place like this and in a sick way that flattered her. If Al had hired Jake to hurt her, he’d sent one of his best men to do it.

“Jake, can I ask you something?”

He poured the water into an ice-filled mug. “Shoot.”

“I was just wondering about this place. It just doesn’t seem like the place a guy like you would live.” She cocked her head, hoping it sounded like a question.

“I made a few good investments,” he said. “Nothing like the mountain of money your throne sits on, but I get by.”

“I’m serious. All I know about you is that you are a friend of my father’s, you drive a BMW, hate being snuck up on, and live in a three million dollar paradise.”

“Those are the highlights, babe.”

“Fine, forget I asked. You have dealings with my father, so maybe I’m better off not knowing.” She waited for a reaction but got nothing. She watched him arrange the plates and silverware then seat himself on the stool across from her.

“Tell you what, sweetheart. How about if I ask you a few questions? I sort of have a policy to have at least some clue about the people I work for.”

She eyed him as she picked up her glass. “Ok, wha
t exactly do you want to know?”

“Well, for starters, what’s
it like to be so good looking?”

She laughed. “You professionalism impresses me.”

He poured himself some chardonnay and looked at her over his glass. “You know, you have a beautiful smile. You should use it more.”

“Thank you.”

“I also think there is more to you than just a pretty face.” He replaced the cork on the bottle. “I watched you today and you’re one hell of an athlete. I’m just curious about the rest of your life.”

She had stock answers to questions like these. One’s that were so rehearsed even the magazine interviewers were sick of them. “I play tennis. That’s it.” She opened a box of sweet and sour chicken and dumped some on her plate.

“No, I mean other than tennis,” he prompted. “I can read about your career anywhere. I want to know about you.”

“There is really not much to tell,” she sighed. “My mom died when I was young, my Dad is well…my Dad. I don’t have any siblings. I play tenn
is. There isn’t anything else.”

“You lonely?”

She stopped chewing mid bite. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. It can be lonely at the top. I was just wondering if you felt that way.”

“You say it like you know.”

“Just what I have heard.”

She had been asked that before. Reporters always loved the orphan phenom angle. She smiled politely, just as she would in an interview. “When you don’t have a family, you get used to being on your own a lot. I think it has actually worked to my advantage. It’s made me the athlete I am today.”

He shook his head, balancing his fork in his fingers. “That’s okay. We just met. I’ll accept stock answers for now.”

She raised an eyebrow.
Am I that transparent?
Did this man ever miss a beat?

“What about Al? Not having a mom, you two must be close.”

“I guess so.” She pushed around a pile of fried rice, knocking a few grains clear off her plate. She could feel his eyes on her, sizing her up. To stay silent would only work against her, but to elaborate was an invitation to lie. Her only hope was to end the conversation all together. “Look Jake, my life is not that complex. I play tennis and I want to get back to it as soon as possible.”

“Despite the fact some crazy is on the loose.”

“You keep telling me that’s your problem to fix.”

He smiled, jamming a forkful of chicken in his mouth. “You know, there are a whole hell of a lot of people out there dying for you to get back on the court. I was talking to Anston Vitale today while you were playing. He sounds like your biggest fan the way he bragged about you.

“Really? Now that surprises me.”

“Why?”

She dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “He and Geoffrey had a falling out,” she explained. “I think he took it personally when Geoffrey became my manager. Anston is still technically my coach, but we’re not as close as we used to be. I have to do what’s best for me.”

“Is Geoffrey what’s best for you?”

“He’s made me a lot of money.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about your personal relationship.”

Reporters always saved this question for last. That’s when she would paint on her giddy smile and gush about how smart and supportive Geoffrey was and how she didn’t know what she would do without him. She would lay it on so thick even she would gag. “Geoffrey is none of your business.”

“Maybe so,” he replied. “It just seems weird is all. A bride-to-be usually wants to talk about her impending nuptials.”

Her voice failed her, her mind beginning to wander to places she’d rather not be. Tossing her napkin on the counter, she pushed her plate away, looking out the window toward the ocean. “Ever notice the sun seems to move quicker just before it sinks below the horizon? Why does it do that?”

“I don’t know.” Jake answered. “Maybe we can figure it out if we had a better view.” He stood up, motioning toward the windows. “Come on, I’ll show you the deck.” She followed him past the pool down a small flight of stairs. He pushed a button under the railing and the sliding glass
doors in front of them opened.

Summer had never seen some of the colors that hung in the sky. Red and purple haze cast shadows around the sun and rainbows in the deck-side fountain’s mist. Mesmerized, she walked to the edge and brought a shielding hand to her forehead. “Wow, this is amazing.”

“You want to sit in the gazebo? It’s a little out of the way, but it’s the best place to watch the sunset.”

She closed her eyes letting the sunlight hit her in the face. “Better than this?”

“You tell me.” He pointed down a small flight of stairs off the side of the deck. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

The steps gave way to a small brick path neatly hidden by the landscape. Exotic flowers blossomed along the side, creating a more intoxicating scent than any perfume she’d ever sampled. They turned a corner into a clearing. Nestled among the tropical foliage was stone gazebo complete with an antique wicker daybed and a gas-powered fire pit. Jake held out his hand, showing her up the steps.
“Now look.” he said, pointing out at the horizon.

Hints of pink and purple now mingling with the darker grays. The sun slipped deeper and deeper into the ocean as it pushed itself to the edge of the earth. “It looks like you could reach out and touch it,” she breathed.

“It sure does.”

“It’s like this all the time?”

“Every time there’s a sunset.” He came up close behind her, his breath tickling the back of her neck. “I actually sleep out here sometimes. The bed is really comfortable and the fire is warm. Best night sleep around.”

She felt his hand rest against her shoulder, then sliding down her arm. “It gets cold pretty quickly once the sun disappears doesn’t it?”

She hadn’t noticed. His proximity alone seemed to ward off any chill. “I’m fine, really.”

“Yeah, but the air isn’t good for your arm.” He tugged at her slee
ve. “Why don’t we head inside.”

Dusk had snuck up on them, turning the blue sky to smoky grey. Summer turned back to the house, reaching her hand out in front of her. It was light enough to still see, but dark enough not to trust her steps. “Here, take my hand,” he said like he’d heard her. His fingers brushed across her palm, lightly gripping her pinkie.

She was blindsided by her body’s sudden quiver. She held his hand tighter and let him guide her through collecting darkness to the house. “You okay?” he asked when they were standing in the doorway.

“I’m fine, she croaked.

“Your arm giving you pain?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” Suddenly speechless she took a deep breath, forcing her heart to steady its rhythm. “I’m trying to take it all in, that’s all.”

“Well in that case, I should show you the coolest part.” He walked around the pool then pressed a hidden button on the side of the fireplace. There was a hum then a click before a pair of doors opened to the master bedroom. “This is what really sold me on the house.” Jake explained. “The pool connects in from the main room to the bedroom through that stone cave. It’s a grotto.”

She would have been impressed by the pool if the bedroom itself wasn’t so magnificent. Completely encased in glass, it had a cathedral ceiling, hand carved oak furniture and a four post brass bed. The one stucco wall was textured with intricate hand painted designs and coordinated with the oriental throw rugs on the heated stone floor.