Hot Item (2 page)

Riley shook his head at the irony. A lifetime of wishing the man would acknowledge him and now it was the last thing he wanted.

His best option was to reach Spencer before the media did and convince him not to talk. Which shouldn’t be a stretch for a man who’d made silence an art form. Frustration filled Riley over the need to turn to Spencer Atkins for anything, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t his own needs driving him. He’d be making the effort for his parents and his daughter.

The time had come for father and son to meet face-to-face at last.

T
HREE DAYS HAD PASSED
and Spencer was officially MIA. Sophie paced her office, wearing a path in the plush carpeting, which she’d discovered was twenty-five steps from the window overlooking the East River to the bathroom in the far corner. Back and forth, back and forth, but no matter how far she walked, the reality never changed. The football draft was three weeks away and Spencer Atkins had taken off for parts unknown.

John Cashman, this year’s Heisman winner and almost newly signed client, was calling hourly to speak with Spencer or Yank. Yank’s cruise made him unavailable and the younger agents weren’t appeasing Cashman with their answers.

Sophie’s palms sweated over the athlete’s last threat. If he didn’t speak to Spencer by the end of the week, he’d sign with the Cambias Agency, their number one competition.

Uncle Yank and Spencer inspired loyalty and cared about their clients’ future, while Cambias only saw dollar signs in his bank account. But a young, healthy, starry-eyed kid who’d never been injured wouldn’t appreciate the experience Spencer and Uncle Yank brought to the table. And at the moment, Cashman wasn’t listening to anything Sophie or the other agents had to say.

The dog she was babysitting stared from the place she’d adopted as her own. Noodle, Uncle Yank’s Labradoodle, carelessly lounged on the client-designated chair. When not rolling over onto her back for a belly rub, she licked herself in unmentionable places. Sophie didn’t mind watching the dog, but animals really weren’t her thing.

Which was why she steered clear of any personal relationships with professional athletes, she thought, giving herself her first real laugh of the day. A laugh she desperately needed. With the recent marriages, honeymoons and pregnancy, Sophie was in charge here at the office and she’d never felt so alone. It was a state she’d judiciously avoided since her parents’ deaths. She’d also avoided feeling as lost and scared as she had when she’d lost her mother and father by maintaining firm control over life.

Some called her anal. She figured she was smart. And being smart, she couldn’t let chaos seep into the agency, despite all that was going on.

Yesterday she’d received a handwritten note from Spencer, postmarked from New York. “Laying low. Back in time for draft.” As if that would pacify John Cashman.

She walked over to the chalkboard she kept with everyone’s schedules marked on it. All active clients on the sports side were divided among the agency representatives. She’d doled out the PR to the new people she and her sisters had hired in the past few months, opting to leave the handling of Spencer’s situation for herself.

So far she’d avoided the media because she wasn’t ready to give a statement without talking to the man in question, which was one less thing to deal with, at least for now.

But the draft players represented by Yank and Spencer were antsy.

She picked up the phone and buzzed Spencer’s personal secretary, a woman named Frannie who’d worked for him for years. Frannie ran Spencer’s life.

“Frannie, this is Sophie. Can you bring me a list of all the places Spencer has vacationed in the past few years along with the phone numbers of any relatives he regularly speaks to?”

“Not a problem, but I don’t think he’d contact those people or go to any place that the press could easily find him.”

Sophie sighed. “I know you’re right but I have to do something. Otherwise I’ll lose my mind. How’s it going with Cashman?”

“I told him Spencer was due to call, but we just didn’t know when, and as soon as we heard from him, he’d hear from us. And I made him promise not to do something stupid in the meantime.”

Sophie tried to breathe steadily so she didn’t get light-headed and pass out, something she was known to do on occasion. “I don’t trust him or Cambias but it’s the best we’ve got for now. Thanks, Frannie.”

“Hang in there, honey. I’ll get those names to you as soon as I can.” Frannie disconnected.

No sooner had Sophie hung up the phone when someone knocked on her door. Obviously her secretary wasn’t sitting at her desk to intercept him. Lori did her work but enjoyed her coffee breaks more.

“Come in,” Sophie called out, hoping this was good news for a change.

She turned to greet her visitor and knew immediately she was in deep trouble. He had a black leather jacket slung over his wide shoulders, razor stubble on his handsome face and a reputation that preceded him. Although Sophie and The Hot Zone had never handled Riley Nash’s publicity, he’d been a client of her uncle’s too long for her not to know him.

He made his presence known each time he came to the office. He oozed raw male sexuality. And her body responded to it, despite her brain’s warnings to ignore the man. Normally her body listened to whatever Sophie’s analytical mind dictated but not when it came to Riley Nash.

As partners in The Hot Zone, Sophie and her siblings shared equal responsibility, but as sisters they had an understanding. Micki handled the difficult athletes and Annabelle the jocks, which was how they’d ended up paired with Damian Fuller and Brandon Vaughn, respectively. Sophie took care of the more refined aspects of the business. She booked photo shoots, galas and large charity events. Things that she could control.

Sophie didn’t do jocks. Not in any sense of the word. So the fact that she drooled at the sight of her uncle’s star football client really ticked her off. She hated that this cocky jock could affect her on a purely elemental level when the other men who came and went from these offices didn’t even make her blink. Riley Nash blew her precious control to hell and back.

She desired him badly and he knew it. He also knew the attraction flustered her and he took shameless advantage, going out of his way to seek her out and push her buttons. And just when she didn’t think the sexual tension between them could soar much higher, he’d stop by her office for a visit and up the ante between them. That he’d show up here now, mid-crisis, was a move she hadn’t anticipated and sure as hell didn’t appreciate.

Drawing a deep breath, she leaned against the desk and resisted the urge to check her hair and makeup. “Let me guess. You charmed your way past my secretary?” she asked him.

“If she’d been at her desk, I’m sure I would have.” He strode forward, full of cocky male attitude. “Nobody was outside to stop me.”

She sighed. This day was just getting better and better.

He stepped beside her, standing so close his warm scent penetrated her pores and she grew damp in places he never failed to remind her existed. She no longer tried to convince herself that her reaction was normal for a woman who’d been sexually deprived for well over a year. Her sudden increase in temperature and spike in arousal had everything to do with Riley Nash.

“So what can I do for you?” she asked him.

He grinned. “Depends on what you’re offering, sweet thing.”

Each time he spoke, he confirmed her notion that he was the embodiment of every jock nightmare she’d ever had. Raunchy, sexist, impossible to control. It didn’t matter. The man’s mere existence turned her into a drooling idiot.

She looked him up and down, trying to appear as if he didn’t faze her one bit. “Turn down the wattage on that smile, big boy. I’m busy and don’t have time to indulge your flirting today.” She glanced at her watch and tapped on the dial. “Well? What can I do for you?”

His smile withered. “I need to see Atkins.”

“Yank’s your agent,” she reminded him as if he were dense.

“This is personal not professional.”

His words took her by surprise. As far as Sophie knew, Riley had no dealings with Spencer Atkins or his former agency. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been to the office since the merger. “I didn’t realize you two knew one another.”

“And I didn’t realize I had to answer to you before I could see my…before I could see Spencer.” He clenched his jaw tight, obviously withholding information.

Sophie was in no mood to push him for answers or bait him today. She had enough on her plate. “Look, it’s been a long day.” It was as much of an apology as she was willing to offer him.

He glanced at his watch and chuckled, his light brown eyes dancing with flecks of gold. “It’s only ten in the morning.”

“Exactly,” she said wryly.

He met her gaze and the connection she couldn’t deny sparked to life between them. She wished it was purely sexual, but something about the man captured her so completely, she often wondered what more existed beneath the jock exterior. Something had to for her to be so drawn to him. She just wasn’t the type to be hooked by something as insubstantial and superficial as sex appeal.

“So what’s got you all riled up so early, if not my dazzling presence?” he asked.

“Let’s just say you could see Spencer if I knew where he was.” The admission was a huge one. She was
trusting
Riley’s discretion.

He lowered himself onto the corner of her desk and nodded slowly. “I guess if I were Atkins, I’d be laying low, too.”

“I take it you’ve seen the articles.” Not only had the papers picked up on the gossip column entry and turned it into front page headlines, but they’d noted Spencer’s sudden disappearance from his usual lunch and dinner haunts.

Riley nodded.

“But that doesn’t mean he ran away,” she said defensively. “How about you leave your number and I call you once I reach him?”

He tipped his head to one side. “No can do.”

“Well, you can’t stick around here waiting who knows how long just to have a personal word with—”

“My father.”

“What?”

Riley winced at his admission, then ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll keep that information confidential?”

“My word.” She tried not to show how affronted she was by Riley’s lack of faith considering she’d just divulged sensitive business information herself.

“I’d prefer something more tangible.” Riley reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wallet, thumbed through some bills and then lifted a folded check from inside.

Without warning, he looked up and met her stare and she discovered he was just as hot when he wasn’t deliberately turning on the charm. His gaze simmered with heat that had nothing to do with sex, but suddenly Sophie couldn’t think of anything else. Those big hands wrapped around the check had her imagining all sorts of other things he could do with them—to her.

He grabbed a pen and began to fill out the empty spaces on the check, all business.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m hiring you.” His head was still bent over as he wrote.

His sandy-colored hair was shaggy, long and as sexy as the man himself.

“That way I can divulge all my personal secrets and you’re bound to keep things confidential.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear them and her mouth grew dry. “I’m not a lawyer.”

“No, but you’re a publicist and if I hire you and tell you things about my life and career, you won’t go spilling the information to the press without my permission. True?” He cocked an eyebrow in certainty.

She nodded. “True.”

“Then consider yourself hired.”

Sophie accepted the check with trembling hands. She’d just entered into a business agreement that was bound to give her deeper insight into Riley Nash. And that shift in their dynamic could very well increase her desire for the man. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough, Riley had just joined her for the ride.

A
T
S
OPHIE
’
S OBVIOUS
attempt to feign composure and pretend his hiring her didn’t send her into a tailspin, Riley bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud.

She folded the check in half. “You could have just trusted me instead of insisting we enter into some ridiculous employment contract.” Her tone held a trace of hurt over his lack of faith.

Maybe she had a point. Hiring her probably made little sense, but he hadn’t been able to think of another way to guarantee his secret remained private.

“I don’t know you well enough to trust you, but we could remedy that,” he said in a deliberately suggestive tone, his words meant to explain as well as to tease.

Whenever he stopped by The Hot Zone offices, he could never resist coming to see the blue-eyed blonde. He enjoyed their sparring and liked trying to figure her out. Sophie Jordan presented an intriguing mess of contradictions, her inherent control and conservative facade so at odds with the simmering heat he saw in her eyes.

He inhaled deeply. As usual her luscious scent evoked images of hot bodies in tangled sheets.

“So now that I represent you, what comes next?” she asked warily.

He understood her discomfort. He and Sophie shared an unusual relationship that consisted mostly of a sexual dynamic neither understood.

For Riley, Sophie was the antithesis of every woman he was normally drawn to. Riley liked his women
real.
He enjoyed tousled hair he could mess up with his hands and he preferred to see a woman’s cleavage, not guess at what her breasts looked like beneath a prim silk blouse. His agent’s niece might be a knockout in the classical sense, but with her hair pulled into a tight knot and her prissy suit, she wasn’t his type. Yet she never failed to brighten his day.

He couldn’t say he did the same for her. Sophie had a distinct inability to deal with the sexual tension between them. Two minutes in his presence and she’d lose her composure, changing from Grace Kelly cool to downright flustered. A pink flush tinged her cheeks whenever he was near.

Today, however, she seemed more tense than usual and something suddenly urged him to be sensitive to what was going on in that head of hers and respect the boundaries she’d raised. Another anomaly, Riley thought. He always respected women but when it came to Sophie, he wondered what she was thinking.

Feeling.

Desiring.

He inhaled deeply. Unbidden, he was treated to visions of eating strawberries and champagne directly off her porcelain skin. His groin tightened with a hard-on he hadn’t felt the likes of in years. Not a good way to respect her feelings, Riley thought.

She picked up the pen he’d discarded and began to tap it against the desk. “Okay, if you aren’t going to explain, I have a few things to say first. And now that you’ve hired me, I have the right to speak my mind.”

“Lack of a professional relationship has never stopped you before,” he reminded her with a wink.

Her cheeks burned brighter. “But now I have the satisfaction of knowing you’re paying me to tell you the way things are going to be.” A Cheshire-cat grin tilted her lips as she enjoyed what she perceived as the upper hand.

She’d soon learn he rarely gave up control. Doing things his way was the only means of assuring himself that nobody would hurt him the same way his real father had.

“So what’s going on in there?” He lightly tapped her head.

She swallowed hard. “I’ve known Spencer practically my whole life and he’s never mentioned having a son. Never mind one who’s the top quarterback in the NFL.”

He folded his arms across his chest. He hated the subject, never mind that he’d opened this Pandora’s box. “So?”

“So considering the news currently circulating, forgive me if I question your story, as well as your motives for wanting to see Spencer.”

He wasn’t surprised she had the guts to stand up to him. After all, she was one of the top publicists in a male-dominated market.

He raised an eyebrow. “The man was just outed. Do you really think I’d pick this particular time to announce my relationship to Atkins unless it was true?”

She paused, then slowly nodded, acknowledging his point.

Although she accepted his argument, he couldn’t ignore how she’d leaped to Spencer’s defense. “So what are you? Atkins’s protector?”

She squared her shoulders. “Don’t underestimate me because I’m a woman, Nash. We’re like family around here. What affects one of us affects us all.”

How nice that Atkins had family here when he’d so deliberately ignored his own. Her words shouldn’t have hurt but they did. They sliced like a knife inside Riley’s chest. Unfortunately they didn’t diminish the need for him to talk to the old man.

Since the Atkins and Hot Zone merger, Riley had done all his agency business over the phone. He hadn’t wanted to risk running into his father. Now that was exactly what he wished to do.

He needed to reach Atkins and ensure the man’s silence, as he’d promised his mother when she’d called in a panic earlier. Which meant he also needed Sophie and whatever connections she had.

He had no choice but to spill his guts. “Whether or not he’s ever acknowledged the fact, I am Spencer Atkins’s son. Actually, I’m just another of his dirty little secrets, but this secret affects more than just him. I need to talk to him as soon as possible.”

Sophie’s expression softened. “I would tell him if I could. Unfortunately, Spencer has been out of touch for three days. And while we’re sharing secrets, I should add if we don’t get in touch with him soon, the agency will lose the first-round pick in the football draft.” She expelled a frustrated breath. “So can you help me?”

Apparently she needed him, too, putting them on more equal ground. The notion eased the vise squeezing his chest. “I haven’t been in contact with Spencer in the past few days, either.” He deliberately left out his lack of a relationship with the older man up until now. “But I can make some calls and see if anyone in my family has any ideas about where he might go.” Starting with his mother, Riley thought. It may have been years since she and Spencer had spoken, but maybe she remembered some relatives or someplace he liked to hide out.

“Feel free.” Sophie gestured to the phone on her desk.

He strode over and sat down. A howl sounded loud and shrill in his ears at the same time he jumped off something warm and soft. He glanced down. A white curly-haired mutt glared at him from Sophie’s desk chair.

Sophie laughed, a light, carefree sound, so opposite from her normally uptight voice he was astounded. It made him want to see her loosen up in every way.

“Something funny?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I just didn’t realize Noodle had switched seats.”

“Better to sit on the dog than on dog—”

She cleared her throat, cutting him off.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend your delicate sensibilities.” This time
he
chuckled. “How do I get an outside line? Need to dial nine?”

She shook her head. “Just pick up the phone and press any free line.”

Resigned, Riley dialed his mother and had mixed feelings when she wasn’t home to take his call. On the one hand he was grateful he wouldn’t have to upset her by discussing Spencer again, and on the other hand he was aggravated he’d have to spend more time on this search.

“Hi, Frannie. Come on in.” Sophie’s voice interrupted his thoughts as an older woman with gray hair walked into the room, a piece of paper in hand.

“Spencer has two sisters and a niece who live in Florida,” the other woman said.

Sophie nodded. She knew he had family in Fort Lauderdale.

“He’s always calling them and sometimes he goes there to visit. Number’s on the paper here.” Frannie waved the yellow sheath in her hand. “He also owns a time-share in Aruba but it’s rented now, so I can’t see him going there. Then again if we knew whether or not he took his passport…”

Sophie shook her head. “No way of knowing that. Let’s start with family.” She glanced at Riley through half-lowered lashes.

“Oh my! I didn’t realize you had company. I should have knocked.”

“That’s okay. This is an emergency. Besides, Mr. Nash is a client of Uncle Yank’s.” She paused. “He’s also a client of mine and we can trust him.”

Frannie smiled. “Okay then. I’ll be at my desk if you need me, though I have to warn you about something.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow.

“Spencer’s sisters are eccentric, to quote his words.”

“Whatever that means, but I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks.”

“They’re also not answering the phone and there’s no machine to record a message. Oh, and John Cashman called. Again.”

“This isn’t happening.” With a groan, Sophie flung herself into the nearest chair, more flustered than he’d ever seen before. “Maybe Spencer’s sisters are on vacation, but that doesn’t mean Spencer couldn’t be there anyway and not taking calls.”

Frannie shook her head. “They don’t travel. Like I said, eccentric. But you’re right. That doesn’t rule out the possibility that Spencer went to his sisters’ until the heat here in New York dies down.”

So he had run off, Riley thought. He didn’t blame the man for wanting to avoid the scandal, but he hated to think his father was a coward.

“Frannie, do you have an address for his sisters?” Sophie asked.

She nodded. “On the paper.” She handed Sophie the page. “Just buzz me if you need me.”

“Will do and thanks again,” Sophie said, gratitude evident in her tone.

Once the other woman had let herself out and shut the door, Sophie glanced at the paper before turning to Riley. Her eyes seemed wider, a mixture of concern and hope in their blue depths.

“If Spencer’s sisters don’t answer the phone, it looks like I’m headed for Fort Lauderdale. I need to talk to Spencer in person and figure out a game plan.”

Her intentions were too vague, Riley thought. He glanced at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze while he took time to think. If he let her go to Florida alone and she didn’t find Spencer, no harm done. If she did find the old man, Riley needed to know whether she would convince Atkins to spill his guts to the media in a sympathy play. If so, he might reveal more than the truth about his sexual orientation, and that might include Riley’s parentage.

“Once you find Spencer, all you want is for him to get in touch with his clients?” Riley asked.

“In part. I want to save the potential clients and calm his current ones.”

Apparently the frenzy surrounding this story went deep. They didn’t have time for a long conversation on how other athletes were handling the news, but Riley was curious. Personally, he had no problem with anyone’s sexual orientation. He just wished it wasn’t
his
biological father who’d come out. During his stepfather’s election year, no less.

Sophie had begun pacing the floor of her office. He glanced at her face and realized she was counting her steps. “Why the hell are you doing that?”

“Twenty-four, twenty-five.” She stopped at a closed door. “Routine gives me comfort,” she explained.

Anal and compulsive, he thought, and didn’t have to wonder how she’d handle his fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants approach to life. Not well.

“Will you let me know how you make out in the Sunshine State?” he asked.

She nodded. “Not a problem.” She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “I can’t wait to do some damage control. I need him to issue a statement in response to all this media coverage. In my experience it’s always better to have a client’s version of events sent out to the media first, forcing other people to respond. In this case we can’t do that, but if he replies with the truth before the reporters start digging and speculating, his reputation will come out stronger in the end.”

“Whoa.” She hadn’t mentioned a press release earlier.

Ignoring him, she strode to the desk and began punching in the numbers on the page Frannie had given her. She waited, phone hugged tight against her ear as the phone rang and rang on the other end.

She hung up the receiver and shot him a frustrated glance. “I need to book a flight for tomorrow morning. At least I’ll feel I’m
doing
something.”

Riley closed his eyes tight, his choices narrowing. If Sophie convinced Spencer to issue an honest statement and he revealed his connection to Riley, all hell could break loose in the conservative red state of Mississippi. After all, she’d said it was better to trump the media before they dug up the dirt and Spencer might choose to do just that.

He had to be by her side when she found his old man.

Once again she picked up the phone, this time hitting the intercom button. “Frannie, book me a seat on the first flight to Fort Lauderdale tomorrow morning.”

He rubbed his hands over his burning eyes before focusing on Sophie. She looked as upset as he felt at the moment.

He could only imagine how she’d take his next announcement. “Make that two seats,” he said loud enough for the woman on the other end of the speaker phone to hear.

B
Y LUNCHTIME
, Sophie still hadn’t reached Spencer’s sisters by phone. She desperately needed air. It wasn’t enough that Spencer was missing and her world was collapsing in chaos, but she had Riley Nash joining in her search. She didn’t know how she’d focus on finding Spencer with the biggest distraction of all hanging around. The sexiest distraction.

She headed for the nearest café around the corner from the office where Cindy James, a friend and publicist at The Hot Zone, was supposed to meet her. It was a blessedly warm day for March in New York City and she was glad they’d chosen someplace with outdoor tables where she could enjoy the fresh air. Sophie ordered a Diet Coke while she waited and then breathed in deeply, allowing herself the illusion that all was well.

“Hello, Sophia,” a masculine voice said with a hint of a Spanish accent.

One that would be sexy if not for the man who possessed the self-assured tone. She eyed the handsome Dominican man, with his designer suit and too-welcoming smile, warily.

“Hello, Miguel,” she said to her uncle and Spencer’s number-one adversary. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” The Cambias Agency was in the Bronx, close to where former President Bill Clinton had taken his new offices shortly after leaving the White House.