Field of Pleasure (15 page)

How long had she been playing him? She and Carlos had to have been seeing each other for months, maybe even years, for the two of them to get engaged so soon. She'd been messing around on him behind his back—that
was the only explanation. After everything he'd done for her.

“Jared!” Randall barked.

He looked over at his teammate. “What?”

“First string is backup.” Randall motioned to the field.

As they sprinted toward players congregating at the twenty-five yard line, Randall caught his arm and slowed down their run. “This is no joke, Jared. You can lose your starting position if you don't show up in this next series. You'd better put Sam and Carlos and Chyna and everything else out of your mind right now, because if you don't, that rookie is going to take your spot.”

Jared nodded, knowing he should take Randall's warning to heart. He was on the verge of hobbling his career. Samantha had already taken so much from him. He wouldn't give her the power to ruin football for him, too.

But as Jared went through the next succession of plays, he couldn't keep his head in the game. He continued to falter, getting chewed out by the coach a second time, then pulled out of the first string rotation.

As he watched the rookie cornerback move into his spot, Jared told himself this was just a temporary setback. Once he got his head on straight, everything would return to normal and he would be back in the starting lineup when the Sabers opened their preseason game in another month.

But when Delonte Cannon made a spectacular one-handed interception, a boulder settled in the pit of Jared's stomach. He had a sinking feeling his fate had been sealed.

 

Chyna stood before the door to one of three conditioning rooms at the Sabers' practice compound. Now
that organized team activities had started and the players required full use of the field, the dance squad was regulated to this smaller room.

For the fourth time in the last five minutes, Chyna gripped the door's steel handle then let it go. She bit her bottom lip, trying to stop the quivering that had started the minute she walked out the doors of Marlowe and Brown. If she didn't get her emotions under control now there was no way she would be able to halt the tears that had been on the brink of falling since she'd made the decision to turn down the Saberrettes' job offer.

She had run every scenario she could think of through her mind, but no matter how she tried to shuffle the hours, there were still only twenty-four of them in a day. Not to mention the pay gap. Her new salary at Marlowe and Brown was nearly twice what the Saberrettes had offered. But that higher salary came at a steep price. After her second meeting with Darla, where her supervisor had gone into more detail about the new position, Chyna learned her workload was about to double.

She'd spent a solid hour deliberating, and had come to the only viable answer. She couldn't afford not to take the junior management position.

She had responsibilities that would always be a constant in her life. Taking care of Summer and her parents were important, but providing for her own financial well-being had always been at the top of the list. Her new promotion would take care of that.

But what about the two new gifts she had received this summer? Both the Saberrettes and Jared had claimed a piece of her heart.

When Chyna weighed all her options, the only expendable thing was the Saberrettes. Even if she could get the executive director to agree to let her continue as
a part-time freelance choreographer, she was still looking at hours of practices, possibly having to attend road games, and just flat-out exhaustion from the physical exertion. She could no longer afford to commit herself to it, especially if she still wanted to make time for Jared. When comparing the two, it had taken less than a second for Chyna to decide that Jared was more important.

Despite the swiftness in which she'd made her choice, the reality of what she was giving up still showered her in misery. Now that the dance school was possibly closing if they could not find a new owner, every outlet for dance she had would be gone.

Chyna swallowed back the sob that nearly escaped.

As she reached for the door handle, the door opened.

Liani, who was on the other side, jumped back in surprise. “Hey there! It's about time, birthday girl. I've been calling you all day.”

“I'm sorry. My cell phone has been on vibrate since this morning. I guess I didn't feel it,” Chyna said, then she gave herself away with a sniff and hiccup. She was definitely going to bawl her eyes out before she left the facility today.

“What's the matter?” Liani asked, instant worry creasing her forehead. “Oh, my God, is it your dad? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Chyna waved off her concern. “He's fine.”

“So what's going on? Something's bothering you. Oh, wait. Is it Jared? Did he go crazy on you after hearing that crap about his ex-girlfriend?”

“No. What about his ex?” Chyna asked with another sniff.

“She and Carlos Garcia are getting married. You didn't hear?”

Chyna shook her head. She wondered if Jared had tried to call her phone. “I haven't talked to him all day,” she told Liani.

“Then what's up with you? You're scaring me.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. It's good news, actually,” Chyna said with a sad smile. “I got the promotion.”

Liani's eyes ballooned. “Oh, my God. Congratulations! That's awesome.”

She wrapped her arms around Chyna and squeezed. Liani stepped back, but held on to her hands. “So what's with the doom and gloom?” But before Chyna could answer, realization dawned in her friend's eyes. “Oh, no. You'll have to quit on us, won't you?”

Chyna's lip quivered as she nodded.

Liani's shoulders slumped. “I had a feeling this would happen from the minute you told me you were being considered. Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I know how much this job with the Saberrettes has meant to you.” She gave Chyna another hug. “You have to do what you have to do. Sucks being a grown-up, doesn't it?”

Chyna nodded again. “It does.”

“Let's go tell the rest of the squad,” Liani said, rubbing her hand up and down Chyna's arm. “Tonight, we have margaritas. And you do not get to back out on me.”

“It's a deal,” Chyna said with a tearful laugh.

They entered the room and walked to where the squad was practicing. The newer girls still looked nervous, congregating amongst themselves.

“Hi, ladies,” Chyna started. “I've got some news.” She looked over the faces of the women she'd become friends with over the past two months, hating what she was about to say. “I can no longer work as the Saberrettes' choreographer.”

A flurry of
whats, no ways
and
whys
flitted around the room.

“I hate to do this, but I just accepted a new position at my day job, and it's going to take more time than I first realized.”

“Yeah, right,” came a sarcastic reply. Chyna turned to find Kenya Simmons standing just to the right of her, a hand on her hip and a cynical grimace scrunching up her face. “Just because they call you ‘The Brain' doesn't mean you are the only person with one, Chyna. We are not stupid,” Kenya spat. “We can see what's going on.”

“I just told you what's going on,” Chyna said.

“Everybody here has jobs outside of the squad, except for trust fund babies like that one.” She gestured to Liani.

“Hey,” Liani said, taking a step forward.

Chyna put a hand to her friend's chest, holding her back. “My new position will require me to work at least ten hours a day,” Chyna said, upset that she had to explain herself.

“Cut the bull,” Kenya snarled. “This new job isn't the reason you're quitting. You no longer have to be the Saberrettes' choreographer because you've already got what you wanted. Jared Dawson.”

“What?”

“Oh, sure, you came here with your little song about how much dancing means to you, yet as soon as you land yourself a fine, rich Sabers player, you're out the door. That's no coincidence.”

“Jared has nothing to do with my decision to leave,” Chyna protested.

Kenya raised her hands up. “I'm not mad at you, honey. If you can get yourself a Saber, more power to you, but don't look down your nose at the rest of us. Because, guess what, Chyna? You are just like the girls on
this squad who are trying to make the most of this situation. Except you don't have to follow the same rules we do. You get to have Jared and no one bats an eye.” Kenya slapped her palms together with three very pronounced claps, “Bravo.” With pure venom in her glare, she pivoted and started for the other side of the room.

Several members of the squad came over and gave her hugs, but Chyna hardly registered their goodbyes and wishes of good luck. She wanted to snatch Kenya by her weave and tear her eyes out.

Chyna's throat clogged with anger. Taking the job with the Saberrettes had
never
been about landing a man for her. She'd agreed to work as the squad's choreographer because she loved to dance. Period.

“Don't let her get to you,” Liani said, throwing a comforting arm over Chyna's shoulders. “She's just jealous because none of the dozen players she's slept with will give her the time of day once they're through with her.”

“It doesn't matter why she said it,” Chyna argued. “What matters is that everyone is going to think it's true. They probably already do.”

“Who cares what the rest of them think?” Liani said. “If they weren't jealous of your relationship with Jared they would be jealous because of your height, or your boobs or whatever else intimidates them.”

Liani gripped her arm and turned her around to face her. Staring into her eyes, she said, “Forget them, Chyna. What you've found with Jared is rare and it's real. Don't let anyone take it away from you. Believe me, something that special is hard to find. When you do, hold on to it.

“I need to get back to practice,” Liani said, “And you need to find Jared. After the news about his ex's engagement, he probably needs to be reminded that he's got something even better in you.”

“You're right,” Chyna said with a firm nod as she hugged her friend.

Liani pointed a finger at her. “So tonight? Margaritas?”

“Yes.”

“Unless you're too occupied trying to soothe Jared's ego, of course. I don't want to come between you getting some.”

Chyna gave Liani a playful shove. “Get out of here.”

“No matter what, you call me tonight, okay, hon?”

“I will,” she said, and with one last, shaky breath, she stared at the dance squad members practicing the routine she and Liani had put together.

Chyna couldn't swallow past the lump in her throat as the enormity of what she'd just given up hit her like a blow to the chest. Working with the Saberrettes had fulfilled her lifelong dream of making money through dance. After years of hearing her father harp on how pursing her dream would never amount to anything, she'd finally proven him wrong.

And she'd just given it all up.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to suppress the quivering, Chyna turned her back on the dance squad and walked out of the room.

 

Chyna made her way through the maze of hallways in the compound, heading to the team's indoor field house where the Sabers' organized team activities were being held. As she rounded a corner, she nearly walked right into Randall Robinson.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she side, sidestepping him.

“Hey, where are you going?” he asked, halting her with a tug on her arm.

“To the practice field. I know you guys are busy, but I was hoping to speak to Jared for a few minutes,” she said.

“Don't, okay?” Randall used the hem of his gray Sabers T-shirt, which was mostly darkened with sweat, to wipe his face. “Look, Chyna. Jared is not in a good place right now. This crap with Sam and Carlos has his head all messed up.”

“I heard about it. That's one of the reasons I wanted to speak to him.”

“He doesn't need anyone bringing it up. Jared needs to concentrate on his game. He's been playing like crap all day, and you going in there and reminding him about Sam isn't going to help. He doesn't need you bothering him right now.”

Bothering him?

“That's not for you to decide,” Chyna said, getting more irritated by the second. “If Jared doesn't want me around, let
him
tell me.”

“Dammit, didn't you hear what I just said?” Randall bit out. “Jared needs to focus on work, and he can't do that with you clinging all over him. You're turning out to be more of a distraction than you were supposed to be.” He blew out a curse. “I'm starting to regret suggesting he even bother with one of the Saberrettes.”

Chyna's spine stiffened. “What did you say?” she asked in an icy whisper.

“I said to leave him alone.” Randall's warning tone escalated her ire even more. “You did your job, okay. You got his mind off Samantha and showed him a good time during the off-season, but now that OTAs have started you need to back off. Jared can't handle any more distractions if he's going to keep his starting position.”

Randall turned and headed back toward the field house.

As she stared at his retreating back, Chyna could hardly see past the hurt that seized her entire being as her world began to crumble around her.

J
ared adjusted the temperature on the rapid wine chiller and checked the digital readout on his stove. He expected the building concierge to announce Chyna's arrival any minute.

He grabbed two crystal goblets from the cabinet and set them next to the silver tray of fruit and cheese Maggie had laid out before she left twenty minutes ago. A thin, rectangular box with crisp dark brown paper and an elaborate blue, brown and cream bow sat a few inches away, along with a dozen white roses and a cupcake with fancy sprinkles and a single birthday candle.

He'd debated greeting Chyna at the door with the box that held the deed to the dance school, but that wasn't part of tonight's plan. In his head he'd envisioned how the evening would pan out. He'd welcome Chyna with a kiss and guide her to the kitchen for a glass of wine and her birthday cupcake. He'd let her see the box and speculate
on what was inside, but he wouldn't let her open it. Not until after they were done with dinner at Masa, where she would cut into the birthday cake he was having delivered to the restaurant for dessert. He'd sent the key to the dance school to be baked inside of it.

He would then hand over the box with the deed, and they would come back here where he'd get the hot sex he'd been thinking about for hours.

If anyone could help him get his mind off the catastrophe this day had been, it was Chyna. To hell with Samantha and Carlos and their wedding. More than anything, Jared was pissed at himself for allowing the news to affect him at all. Samantha Miller didn't matter to him anymore.

He had Chyna. She was all he needed.

The buzzer sounded and the concierge announced that Miss Chyna McCrea was on her way up. Jared grabbed the cellophane-wrapped flowers from the shelf and hurried to the door. A few moments later there was a soft knock. He opened the door and couldn't stop himself from going straight for her lips.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said against her mouth. Jared felt her stiffen. He took a step back and peered at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She didn't answer, just wrapped her arms around her middle and walked into the foyer.

Alarm tightening his chest, Jared placed the flowers on the table next to the door and walked over to where Chyna stood just inside the arched entryway to his kitchen. He stepped up behind her and captured her upper arms in his hands.

“Baby, what's going on?”

She shook free of his hold and swung around, her eyes teeming with anger.

“Has this all been some joke to you?” she asked in a raw, hoarse whisper.

Jared's head snapped back. “What?”

“This thing between us? Was it just a game, something for you to do over the summer that you could go back and tell all of your little football friends about when the new season starts up?”

“Chyna, where the hell is this coming from? No, this isn't just some game. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Oh, so are you saying I'm
not
just a distraction? You didn't start seeing me just because you needed something to help get your mind off of your ex-girlfriend?”

Jared's eyelids slid shut.

“You bastard,” she bit out.

“Chyna, let me explain.”

He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away and sidestepped him. “Don't you dare touch me,” she spat as she stormed for the door.

Jared bolted after her. No way was he letting her walk away. Not without talking this out first.

“Chyna, please.” He captured her arm. “Give me a chance to explain.”

She whipped around and glared at him. The anger and hurt in those soulful gray eyes tore at his heart. Jared ignored the cold knot that had formed in his stomach. They could talk through this. “Can we go into the living room and sit down. Maybe have a glass of wine and discuss this like two rational people?”

“I'm not here to drink wine with you, and I'll be honest, Jared, I'm not feeling all that rational right now. You see, finding out that I'm being used makes me a little crazy.”

“I haven't been using you.”

“Oh, you know the funniest part in all of this?” she
continued as if he hadn't spoken. “Kenya Simmons was supposed to make the Gatorade run that day. She wouldn't have had a problem being used like a piece of trash, as long as it was one of the Sabers doing the using. It's just your luck that I happened to offer to get the Gatorade instead.”

“Chyna, please,” Jared pleaded. She was killing him with every word that came out of her mouth. “That's not how it was. You've got to believe me.”

“Why should I?”

“If you would just let me explain—”

“Go ahead,” she said, the command draped in bitterness. “But you've got two minutes. After that, I'm out of here.”

“Dammit,” Jared cursed. “Okay. Fine.” He rubbed a hand down his face, trying to figure out the best way to handle this. “At first, yes, you were only supposed to be a distraction.” Her head jerked back as if he'd slapped her, and the instant pain that washed over her face clutched at Jared's chest. “But that was before I even talked to you, Chyna. I swear, everything about the time we've spent together has been real. I've—”

He stopped, afraid to lay his feelings bare so soon after having them trampled on. But he couldn't deny the way he felt about her, and more than ever, he needed Chyna to know.

“I've fallen in love with you,” he said.

She looked up at him, her eyes luminous and brimming with unshed tears. “How can I believe that?” she whispered. “You've been lying to me from the very beginning.”

“It hasn't been a lie,” Jared snapped.

She shook her head and huffed out a humorless laugh. “Before I took that job I told myself not to get mixed up
with one of you ball players. I'd heard the horror stories, yet I still fell for it. How could I have been this stupid?”

“Dammit, Chyna.” Jared stalked to the kitchen and snatched the wrapped box from the counter. He returned to find her still standing in the foyer with her arms crossed stonily across her chest. The tears that had been welling in her eyes had begun to cascade down her smooth cheeks.

“Here,” he said, shoving the box toward her. She looked down at it, but her arms remained stubbornly crossed. “Would you take it?” Jared urged.

“What is it?” she asked, cautiously, angrily.

“It's supposed to be your birthday present,” he bit out. “I sure as hell hadn't pictured giving it to you like this, but since you're having such a hard time believing how I feel about you, maybe this will show you.”

As if it were a snake lying in wait, she inched her hand toward the box and gently plucked it from his fingers. She lifted the top and drew the tri-folded sheaf of papers. Jared studied her face as she unfolded the papers and trailed her eyes down the deed.

When she looked up at him, the gratitude he'd been expecting was nowhere to be found. Instead, her stare was more venomous than ever.

“You don't get it at all, do you?” she asked.

“Apparently not,” he said. “I just gave you a damn dance studio, and you look as if you're ready to tear my head off.”

“Did I
ask
you for this damn dance studio?” she shouted. She threw her hands in the air. “God, Jared, you
just don't get it.
Do you know how long I've had to fend for myself? All my life. If I wanted something, I couldn't rely on anyone else to get it.”

“What does that have to do with this, Chyna?”

Her eyes flashed with fiery outrage. She strutted up to him, her jaw pure stone. In a deadly quiet voice, she said, “I told you from the very beginning that I didn't need you to take care of me. The only way I want to own this school is if I can find a way to buy it myself. I don't want it to be handed to me as if its payment for services rendered.”

“That is not what this is,” Jared said. God, how had this become so messed up? “The school is supposed to be a
gift,
Chyna. I know how much you wanted it.”

“So you dip into your rainy day fund and pull out a couple of hundred grand, right? No big deal.”

Jared shook his head, unsure of what else he could say to make her see reason.

“I don't need you stepping in and saving the day, Jared. In fact, I don't need you at all.”

She turned, and with a cold calm, headed for the door. She placed the box with the deed on the table next to the roses, and quietly closed the door behind her.

 

Curled up in a blanket on her futon, Chyna tightened her hold on Summer as she wiped at the tears that continued to track down her face. Her cell phone started humming again, shimmying across her coffee table. She leaned over and checked the caller ID, letting it go to voice mail when she saw Liani's number.

Eventually, her friend would get the idea and stop calling. Either that, or the voice mail would fill up. Between Liani and Jared, there were over twenty messages clogging her voice mail system.

Her house phone rang. After a few moments the answering machine picked up.

“Chyna, I've tried calling your cell phone, but I guess Jared has you too occupied to answer,” came Liani's
voice. “You never showed up for drinks this evening. Give me a call when you get home.”

Chyna thought about calling her friend back, but waved off the thought. She didn't have the energy to do any more than what she was doing right now, clinging to a five-pound dog for support and crying like a school-girl who'd just been dumped by her first crush. Only
she
had been the one to do the dumping, and now it was up to her to convince herself she'd done the right thing.

She'd known what she was getting herself into—Liani had shared too many tales of brokenhearted Saberrettes for Chyna to plead ignorance. Yet, she'd fallen for it anyway.

Jared had used her.

Even if his feelings had changed over the course of their time together, to know that the only reason he'd first asked her out was to get his mind off his ex-girlfriend was the worst kind of blow to her tender ego. She'd been expendable; just one in a sea of interchangeable women at his disposal.

What if she'd turned down his dinner invitation the day he'd sought her out at the Patisserie? Would he have tried again, or did he operate on a three-strikes-and-you're-out basis? Would he have just moved on to another member of the Saberrette squad and spent the summer making love to Kenya, or Jamie or one of the other girls?

The thought sent a rod of pain so deep, so fierce, it sliced straight through her chest and into her heart.

She had to get past this. She couldn't allow thoughts of what she could have had with Jared to consume her any more than they already had.

Despite his motives for being with her, Chyna was forced to concede that Jared had taught her a valuable lesson. He'd taught her the importance of enjoying
life. She could not deny the joy she'd experienced this summer. She may never know what the time they shared had meant to him, but for her, it had been real. She would cherish it for what it was, but now, it was time to move on.

Chyna pushed herself up from the spot she'd occupied for the past four hours. With determination and stubborn pride spurring her on, she barreled full steam ahead with her effort to push Jared Dawson out of her life.