The Set Piece (10 page)

Knight was wrong. She didn’t owe Diego anything. But she did like the man, and if she could help him chase his dream, then she should.

“Okay. I’ll help. Unless it gets too weird.”

“It won’t. You’re just looking around. That’s it.” Knight grinned. “Oh, and you can’t tell Diego. He doesn’t know anything about the turn this has taken.”

“I don’t like lying to him,” she said. Although she seemed to be lying to everyone else, lately.

“We’ll make it worth your while. Remember, this is your job.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.” She went back to disliking him. “You know, at some point, you’re not going to be able to buy me.”

Knight smiled again. Now she was speaking his language. He grabbed his briefcase, popped it open and dug around. Finally, he pulled out a set of round, black keys. He dangled them over the table in front of Amy’s face. “Let me know when we get to that point.”

“Please tell me those aren’t car keys?”

“You betcha. To a little beauty parked right outside in the lot.” He gave a smug smile.

“You have got to be kidding. I’m not taking a car.” A jolt of anger hit her, and heat flooded her face. “Especially from you.” The last three words sounded harsh even to her ears, but she was sick and tired of Knight assuming money solved all problems.

Knight shrugged off the insult easily. “Actually, it was Diego’s idea. He’s worried about you driving around in that deathtrap of yours.”

Amy took a deep breath and tried to shove the anger away. Diego only meant kindness with the gesture.

“He needs to know that you’ll be safe on the road, show up to events when you need to. And there’s an image to maintain as well.”

They had her there. Her car was definitely on its last wheel. A hard slam of the driver’s door and the back bumper could hit the ground. And then there was that horrible rattle whenever she shifted into second gear.

“Look, we’re not giving the car to you. It still belongs to Horowitz and Kane. But you can have the use of it while you’re on the job. Consider it one of the perks of hashtag Amiego.” He shook the keys seductively. “It comes with insurance.”

The alarm bells she’d heard when she’d met him outside of Starbucks clanged loudly again. Accepting the car keys would kill her a little bit more on the inside, but she told herself she had to do her job. Amy reached out to grab the keys.

“That’s a good girl,” Knight said, as her fingers closed around the key fob.

Amy sighed. It sure didn’t feel good.

Knight made her swear again that she wouldn’t tell Diego about the latest pictures, dropped some cash on the table, and walked away without looking back. Amy lifted the bills to see that Knight had left only a dollar tip. She added two more bills to the pile. Two dollars wouldn’t change a life, but it was the principle of it. She picked up the car keys with a slightly freer heart.

When she stepped out into the parking lot, she realized that Knight hadn’t actually told her which car was on loan to her. Huge SUVs and luxury sedans filled the spaces. Any one of which would instantly turn her into a soccer mom the second she opened the door. Shame whipped around her. Maybe Knight was right and everyone was driven by greed. It had only taken her a few seconds and already she was looking this gift horse deep in the mouth.

She pressed the button on the key and a corresponding beep came from behind a huge Cadillac Escalade. She skirted the Cadillac to see an adorable Mini-Cooper convertible roadster. She circled the car. Sexy carbon black stripes ran down the white hood, while both rear view mirrors popped with the same deep black. She opened the door and sank into the front seat. Inside she fingered the red trim and slid her hand over the dash. Everything about the car screamed luxury. She rested her head against the leather headrest. Did all deals with the Devil come with cars this nice? Metaphorically they must. That’s why they were so painless to broker.

Amy slipped the key in the ignition. The turbo-charged engine roared then relaxed. The sexy rumble dampened some of her misgivings, and she eased out of the parking space and onto the road of no return.

CHAPTER 7

Slender arms wrapped Amy in
a welcoming hug. Cyndy, the Irish pop star and wife of Scotty Westerman, the Atoms latest international purchase, gave Amy the same glamorous smile that graced teen magazines all over the world. She led her to a seat at the front of the Atoms’ private box high on the fifty-yard line.

“Tread lightly,” she murmured for Amy’s ears only. “The real game’s played here.”

The other girlfriends and wives immediately gathered, sniffing around her like a new hound at the dog park. Cyndy kept a protective arm around the back of her chair to ward off the more aggressive women from snagging a seat nearby. Amy’s position was tenuous. Diego raked in one hundred and fifty times more in salary than their men did for running around the same field playing the same game. And that didn’t even include the endorsements. A lot of these couples were living hand to mouth on the low MLS minimum salary, and the inequity of their positions with that of Amy and Cyndy swirled around the luxury box on this balmy night like a summer storm.

Amy immediately saw the way it was. She looked around making eye contact with the nearest women.

“I can’t believe all this. You know, during the pre-season I was pulling drafts at the Valley Arms and watching all this on TV. And now…Now I’m here.” Her delighted laugh was genuine and came through loud and clear, and most of the women lowered their hackles. Cyndy gave her shoulder a little squeeze; Amy was initiated into the pack.

In truth, Diego had already done all the heavy lifting before she had even got there. He had never forgotten what it was like to be a penniless rookie. So now that he had made it big, he routinely invited their husbands out for meals, shared his bounty from Adidas, and never took on airs. Thanks to Diego, the women were primed to like her. Amy’s actual enthusiasm for the game—and, more importantly, her knowledge of the players she had watched on the Valley Arm’s big screen—put her firmly in favor. It didn’t hurt that the Atoms were having a great game against the New England Riot. At the end of the first half, the Riot’s best player streaked toward the goal and the Atoms’ sweeper moved in to block his shot. A very pregnant redhead at the far end of the luxury box lumbered up to cheer the play.

“That’s her husband,” Cyndy said by way of explanation.

After the halftime break, the team trotted back onto the field with a certain jauntiness to their step. They took it straight to the Riot. Diego timed his run perfectly. Scotty served up a beautiful pass and Diego burst into the opposition’s penalty area with the ball at his feet. His shot came hard and fast. The Riot’s goalie didn’t stand a chance.

Amy rose with the rest of the stadium, pumping her fist in the air for the hometown hero. She looked down at Cyndy, who still sat in her seat and shouted over the crowd. “What a pass from Scotty. Oh my goodness. That was amazing.”

Cyndy smiled. “Thanks. Who knows how many of those he has left in him,” she said, wistfully.

After the game, the women waited for their men in the corridor by the locker rooms. Spirits soared. The Atoms had won 2-0. Diego charged through the door with a wide grin and grabbed Amy, lifting her and spinning her around.

“Great game!” Amy laughed, and then since her new best friends were watching, she laid a wet one on Diego. The two glasses of wine she’d had back in the luxury box gave the kiss a natural touch. The pregnant redhead let out a soft “ahh,” and Cyndy punched Scotty playfully on the shoulder.

“Remember when we used to be like that?” she said.

“Aye. Sure we still are.” He grabbed Cyndy and dipped her into a swooning kiss. Everyone hooted their approval. Diego dropped Amy lightly to the ground. Smiles and laughs greeted her at every turn. She had to remind herself that this was just another day at the office.

“You ready to go?” Diego asked.

“Just a second.” She found Cyndy and gave her a quick hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. Amy wasn’t a fool; she knew that even with Diego’s generosity she wouldn’t have had a chance with these women unless Cyndy had given her the seal of approval.

Cyndy cupped her cheek with one hand. This close, Amy could see the tiny age lines around the older woman’s face as Cyndy smiled at her. “My pleasure, honey.”

“Mine, too.” Who would have guessed that she would actually like this woman? As a teenager, with her nose always deep in a book, Amy had looked down on pop figures like Cyndy. But the warm strength in Cyndy’s eyes told the story of a woman who was sure of her place in the world and didn’t view other people’s successes as her failures.

“Oh, you must come to Stephanie’s baby shower tomorrow afternoon.” Cyndy glanced the group behind her. “Right, Steph?”

“Yes, please do.” Stephanie, the redhead, cradled her baby bump with both hands.

“I’d love to.” Amy grinned over at Diego.

“Great. See you then. We’ll text you the info.” Cyndy said and grabbed her husband by the hand. “Honey we need to get home. You know Danny won’t go to sleep until he sees you.”

“The bairns. They rule the roost.” Scotty shook his head and dutifully followed his wife to the players’ parking lot.

It wasn’t until after her morning run the next day that Amy realized Cyndy didn’t have her contact info. She could ask Diego for a text number, but the rhythmic metal clanking from downstairs told her that it was a fitness day. Diego took Rob’s training sessions very seriously. Disturbing him wasn’t a good idea. She could ask Casey, but she had seen neither hide nor hair of her over the last few days. Maybe this was her in?

Tiny flutters of excitement ran through her chest. She now had an excuse to seek out Casey. Without really admitting it to herself, she had been looking for one for days.

“What do you think?” she asked Dulce. “It’s as good an excuse to talk to her as any.” Dulce thumped her tail on the wooden floor and groaned in her sweet little way as Amy rubbed her belly with one foot. “Yes, that goes without saying. I gotta dress the part.”

Amy slid the hangers over until she landed on what she wanted. She fingered the lightweight material of the bathing suit. “Too much?” Dulce nipped her ankle. “I know. But I stupidly bought it. I might as well see if it works.”

A few minutes later Amy stood admiring herself in the full-length bathroom mirror. White board shorts with large black hibiscus flowers hugged her hips and thighs. She turned one way and then another and grinned at the view of her behind. If only Lucy Lewitt could see her now. The simple black bikini top with its discreet underwire held everything up top in place, but barely. She slid the silver V, which held the two cups together and was the designer’s trademark, right into the space between her breasts. The V subtly focused all attention onto her cleavage. The designer was a very clever man.

The outfit had been an impulse buy at Caffeine Cowabunga when Knight was late for one of their meetings. Amy had nearly flung it back at the disinterested salesman when he had told her the outrageous price for something that covered so little of her body. Now, with her breasts thrust up so full and curvy that she hardly recognized them as her own, she would have paid twice the price.

Dulce danced around her feet. “Look,” Amy told her. “We’re color-coordinated, you and me. Ready to rumble?”

Amy flipped on the misters before she stepped outside. Still in the clutches of a heatwave that wouldn’t break, outside felt as hot as the Sahara. The heat rolled off the flagstone in waves, and now little drops of water shot out from the patio roof, instantly cooling the air before it dropped onto her heated skin. She positioned one of Diego’s plush lounge chairs in the direction of the side gate. Casey parked on the garage side of the house, and Amy would be right in her path as she came into work. She would have to acknowledge her. Also, this way Amy would hear the Camry as it scrunched over the pebbled driveway and would have plenty of time to pose to give Casey a clear view of the silver V clasp and what lay on either side. Not that anything would come of it. Casey wasn’t buying, and even if she were, Amy couldn’t really sell what she was plating up. She sighed at the futility of the entire exercise. If she had any sense, she’d get up and go back inside.

Instead, she opened the trashy mystery she was reading. Her bedside table was crammed with books she never had the time to read while holding down two full-time jobs. Amy sank back in the lounger and read until her eyelids began to droop with the heat. She closed her eyes and dropped the book to her chest. The cool spray from the misters settled on her skin, soft as a caress. She relaxed into a daydream, allowing her mind to take her to dark, dirty, and thoroughly sexy places. Casey’s breasts in a translucent wet T-shirt flashed into focus. Nice, really nice. But Casey just standing there doing nothing wasn’t going to cut it in this fantasy.

In her daydream, Casey entered by the side gate. She was wearing the wet T-shirt from their first encounter by the pool. The T-shirt clung to her body like a glove, hugging her firm breasts. Longing spread from the pit of Amy’s stomach and tingled along her thighs. Casey came to a halt beside the lounger; desire burned in her eyes.

“Careful of the sun,” she said. “You look a little red around the shoulders.”

Amy picked up the sunblock. “It’s SPF 50. It should work.”

“Maybe you missed a spot.”

“Maybe. Can you get it for me?”

“Maybe I can.” Within seconds strong hands swept across Amy’s skin, rubbing lotion onto her shoulders with broad sweeping stokes. Then the touch turned delicate and dropped down toward the swell of her breasts. Amy groaned softly, whether in the fantasy or in real life she couldn’t tell. Tentatively, Casey slid the straps of the bikini top off her shoulders. Her hands slid over Amy’s soft flesh to tug at the silver V and loosen the clasp. Casey slipped her fingers under the fabric and stroked Amy’s tightened nipples. She circled and caressed until Amy moaned, and then she squeezed hard sending shivers all the way down her body. Amy arched her back.

“Are you okay?” Casey asked.

“Um,” she sighed. “More than okay.” Abruptly she realized the question hadn’t come from her fantasy world. She opened her eyes. The bright sunlight was harsh even behind her sunglasses. For a moment, all she could see were bright sun flares. Slowly, Casey came into focus. She wore skimpy red shorts with a tight tank-top. She looked great, super sexy great. The real Casey with her hot lean body trumped fantasy Casey any day. Until she met that frosty stare.

“Seriously, you okay? You look spaced out, and you’ve dropped your book.”

Amy wished the big, comfy lounge cushion would unzip and swallow her whole. She had been waiting for days to run into Casey, and fate delivered her at this exact moment?

“I must have fallen asleep.” She rushed into the lie before she realized how lame it was. She could feel the heat spread to her entire face.

Casey bent down to pick up the book. Lovely, lean muscles ran all the way to her shoulder. Amy filed that particular detail away for her next fantasy. Casey looked at the cover as she handed the book back to her. “Oh, I like this series.”

“Me too.”

Their fingers brushed sending little sparks up Amy’s arm.
Is she feeling this, too?
Casey didn’t release the book, maintaining the touch. Their eyes met. Casey’s were full of question. Was it the same question as Amy’s, “Are you feeling this?” They stood like that for a couple of heartbeats, and then Casey dropped her hold on the book.

“Enjoy,” she said, indicating the paperback. “I got to get back to work. Diego leaves for Chicago tomorrow, and I have a million things to do.” A slight flush crept into Casey’s cheeks. “Sorry. I mean, I know you know he’s going out of town. Away game and all that. It’s just that I’m always busy with stuff before he goes.”

Amy titled her head. Did Casey seem a little flustered?

“Go ahead,” she said, when all she wanted was for her to stay. Casey took a step toward the pool house and then turned back. Amy’s heart missed a beat. She desperately wanted to pat the empty space next to her and say, “Sit down.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Cyndy Westerman’s assistant sent a text this morning with an address for you. Should I send it to you?” The composure was back in her voice, and her face had returned to its natural color.

“Yes, please.” Amy watched her walk away across the flagstones. She almost glided, her walk was so athletic. Amy eyes wandered down to her behind, so tight and cute in those clingy shorts. Amy bit her lip and forced her gaze down to the book in her hand. These fantasies about Casey were making things worse for her. She needed to concentrate on the fake relationship that was paying her bills and forget about the other fake relationship that was giving her nothing but headaches.