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Authors: Lexi Ryan

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Text Appeal (7 page)

BOOK: Text Appeal
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Her phone beeped, and she dug in her bag to get it.
Message from Charles Spencer.
She smiled. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but
Chaz
was thinking about her a lot right now. Good. Maybe this was just the change they needed.

She opened her phone and read the message.
Don’t be mad, but I came by the studio and watched you dance.

Her breath caught in her throat. He’d watched her? He’d never expressed an interest in her dancing before, and she’d thought he didn’t care. In fact, it always seemed like he was trying to get her to skip dance class to do something with him, and she’d wondered if her father hadn’t told him how much he disapproved of the activity.

The phone beeped again.

I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as the way you move.
Or as sexy.

She pulled her lower lip into her mouth. He couldn’t possibly know what that meant to her.
Thank you.

You should be on stage. Your dance is an art, meant to be shared.

Something in the pit of her stomach warmed, and the sensation radiated through her. Maybe there was more to
Chaz
than she’d realized.
We both know how my father would feel about that,
she typed.
Besides, a career in dance isn’t very profitable but for the select few.
She added the last because she knew
Chaz
was practical, and she didn’t want him thinking she was hung up on her father’s approval.

Who cares what your father thinks? You’re amazing, and if he’s got half a brain he’ll support you in whatever you do.

Riley blinked. Who was this man, and what had he done with the guy she’d been dating for two years?

And why did the change make her so happy?

 

***

 

Charlie winked at the hostess as he strode into the Black Diamond. He’d decided to check out the club and see what he could learn about its manager. Whether he was this invested in digging up dirt on
Chaz
or it was a convenient excuse to escape the images turning through his mind, he wasn’t sure. Riley in black
lycra
dance clothes. Riley moving and bending her beautiful body to music he couldn’t hear but could practically
feel
just by watching her slide through the room. Riley looking like the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He wasn’t sure what had inspired him to swing by her dance studio, but it had left him questioning what the hell he thought he was doing by taking her to dinner. Like it or not, she was another man’s woman.

His phone buzzed at his side, and he snatched it, hoping it was Riley.

Good thing he knew how to handle disappointment.

“Rick, how you doing man?”

“Singleton, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.”

“Yeah, well, there was a girl. I figured you’d catch me later. Turns out I was right.”

“With you, there’s always a girl.” His agent chuckled. “Listen, I wish I had better news.”

Charlie winced. This was why he’d been avoiding his agent’s call. “Out with it.” His eyes wandered to a dark-haired man at the stage. The dick grabbed a dancer by
her long blond hair and pulled her to him, his face fierce. Where the hell was the bouncer?

Rick rambled on about endorsement deals and sponsorships, money and payouts—all the shit Charlie hated about being in professional poker and all the reasons he gave Rick fifteen percent of his money.

Watching the man stick his finger in the dancer’s face, Charlie clenched his fist. He didn’t care if a woman was a stripper or the queen of
England,
she deserved to be treated with respect.

“The fact of the matter is,” Rick was saying, “if you want a poker website to sponsor you for this tournament, you’re
gonna
have to shake up your image. UltimatePokerPowerhouse.net is interested, but they’ve hinted that they’re worried about the amount of camera time you’re going to get. They said unless you can guarantee a win—”

“Rick, you know this game changed when all the internet poker amateurs started buying in to the big tourneys. With guys playing fast and loose, it’s anyone’s game.”
A fact that frustrated the old timers.
Charlie hadn’t cared…until sponsors started dropping him.

Professional players made most of their money through sponsorships, and sponsors wanted the camera on their logo as often as possible. Players could get that screen time by being a consistent winner or by bringing outside interests to the table—scandal, sensation—anything the viewers would eat up.

“You know, what you need,” Rick went on, “is another Nicole
Abucee
. Then we’d land any sponsorship we wanted.”

Nicole was the Hollywood starlet who had left her producer/director husband and come to Charlie’s house the same night. At the time, Charlie had wanted to strangle the pap member who had snuck into his backyard and taken pictures of them in Charlie’s hot tub. In retrospect, he was pretty sure Nicole had tipped them off.

“Seems cheap, Rick.”

As Charlie let Rick drone on about other long-shot deals, a waitress wearing pasties and a smile approached Charlie.
“A drink?”

Charlie covered his phone with his hand and nodded to the stage where the man had been manhandling the stripper. “Where’s your bouncer? That
asshat
needs thrown out of here.”

Her frown creased her heavy makeup. “That’s
Chaz
Spencer. He runs this place, or—let me tell you—I’d kick his ass out myself.” She sighed. “Anyway, that’s his girl. She brings it on herself by messing around with him.”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at the man who was now sitting back and enjoying a lap dance from the blonde. Riley could do a fuck of a lot better than that. “Thanks for the info,” he muttered. “I don’t need a drink.” He slid the waitress a twenty and she grinned.

Charlie returned his attention to the phone as Rick asked, “Do you want to keep playing poker or not, Singleton?”

“Of course.”
But it wasn’t so much a
want
as a
have no other options
. What else could he do? He had no skills, no formal education beyond the tenth grade. Poker was his life.

He narrowed his eyes at
Chaz
again. “
Listen,
tip off those reporter friends of yours that Riley Carter and I will be at the Eiffel Tower restaurant tonight.”

“Riley Carter?
Las Vegas’ Good Daughter?”

“That’s right.” Maybe a couple pictures in the papers would help them both out. The publicity would help Charlie get his sponsorship and maybe, just maybe, it would help Riley out of a relationship with Manhandling, Cheating Dick over there.

“Consider it done. But do
me
a favor, Singleton?”

“What?”

“Make it good.”

 

***

 

“Oh, my God,” Lacey said from the couch. “Did you see this? Paris Hilton has a new beau.”

Riley rolled her eyes and dropped her gym bag by the door. “My day was fine, Lace. How was yours?” She didn’t have to look to know that Lacey was watching G! TV—Today’s Gossip about Tomorrow’s Celebrities! The channel was something of an addiction for Lacey.

Lacey snickered, shrugging. “Sorry. I just think it’s interesting, trying to imagine a life with that kind of money, that kind of luxury.” Her brow pinched. “To be honest, I’m not sure how you pass it up. I mean, who wants to work every day?”

Riley frowned. “Why would I want a life that would make me a joke in the eyes of the media?” At eighteen Riley had set out to prove herself to a world that assumed she was just another spoiled little rich girl. Although she knew her father would like to see her work a little less and enjoy life a little more, she liked to think he was proud of the life she’d built on her own.

Lacey shifted on the couch and pulled her legs under her. “Why do you assume you would have been a bad egg? Lots of people have money and don’t make a fool of
themselves
.”

Riley shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I have a little bit of a wild
side,
and a little too much indulgence would make it come out in full force.”

Lacey laughed. “Wild? Sure, Ry. Whatever you say.”

She plopped on the couch beside her friend, who—like nearly everyone else in the world—knew nothing about Riley’s rebellious months as a sixteen-year old…the ones immediately preceding her father’s decision to send her to girls’ school. “I can be wild.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I think if I let myself have access to all that money, my ING would just be an NG. She wouldn’t be hidden and tucked away where she has to stay out of trouble. She’d be out, flaunting herself like Britney of the no-panties days.” She was her
mother’s daughter, after all, and Cynthia Dreier had the wildest of wild sides—Riley just hadn’t known until after her mother was gone.

“Maybe showing her to the world would do you some good.”

Riley looked at the television where Paris was dirty dancing with some football player at an LA club. “You know, the press should give her a break. Paris isn’t the only ditzy blonde who likes to have a little fun from time to time.”

“Of course she’s not.” Lacey smirked, studying the TV. “But she sure is entertaining.”

“The only reason it’s an issue is because of who her grandfather is.” Riley smiled as Jaws jumped up on the couch with her. “So, no, I’m not jealous of Paris. I’m jealous of girls who
don’t
have a potential multi-million dollar inheritance. Because they can be whoever they want to be without having cameras trained on them.”

“I’m pretty sure you can indulge in a little luxury without making a sex tape.”

Jaws licked Riley’s face and she grinned. “I already have a sex tape.”

Lacey punched Riley’s arm. “Get out!”

Riley winced, rubbing her triceps. “Sure, just last Christmas I caught Jaws on tape humping Santa’s leg at the company Christmas party.”

Lacey gave a dramatic eye roll.
“Right.
Well, girl, if that’s the most scandalous thing you have going on in your life, I suggest to kick it up a notch.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Riley said with a sigh.

Furrowing her brow, Lacey grabbed the remote and clicked off the TV. She turned on the couch so she was facing Riley. “But you can still be a
little
scandalous in private. People aren’t watching you all the time.”

No, thanks to years of good behavior, it was rare to find paparazzo following her these days. Sure, there was the occasional story about how simply she lived or how hard she worked, facts that had her dubbed early on as “Vegas’ Good Daughter,” but those stories only sold papers if they were accompanied by fall from grace stories. As long as she was boring, they’d leave her alone.

She stood, pulling out her hair tie. She only had thirty minutes before Charlie Singleton would be here. “I’m going to jump in the shower,” she told her roommate as she stood.

Lacey raised a brow, watching Riley over the back of the couch.
“Another date with
Chaz
?”

A smile curved Riley’s lips at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. Lacey might not be Team
Chaz
now, but if Riley told her about the text messages he’d started sending her, maybe she’d see the light. “Not tonight,” she answered. The talk about the latest developments in her relationship with
Chaz
would have to wait for another time. “Your brother’s taking me out tonight.”
That
also made her smile. Dear God, she was a mess. Thoughts of spending an evening with Charlie shouldn’t make her giddy.

BOOK: Text Appeal
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ads

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