PLAYED - A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE (6 page)

“You think so?” She asked, that mischievous smirk on her face again. “I
dunno…”

“If not… there was a Japanese girl who wandered in with her last night.
I’ve seen the bartender speaking with her from time to time – I think they’re
friends. I can probably follow up on that lead and track her down, but only if
I have to. I don’t want to force it, after all.”

Dwelling on these thoughts, I buttoned up my long-sleeved top, swapped
the pajamas for slacks, and whipped a blazer over my shoulders. My publicist
made and poured herself a cup of coffee, and then spat it out in my bathroom
sink.

“Ugh! This is
fookin’
disgusting!”

“There’s that
chav
coming
out,” I teased.

“Don’t you start with me,” Jess squinted an eye and gave me a defiant
glare. “You
know
I’m not a damned,
dirty
chav
.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

She looked like she was going to burst a blood vessel, but relaxed. I
recognized that look – she was deep in thought, considering something that we’d
both overlooked.

“What is it?” I asked, stepping back into view. I was suited up and
ready to tackle the day, even if that involved tracking down a wayward lay to
straighten out some things.

After all, the sex had been pretty good…

And Jess was right.

It really had been a long time since someone had impressed me.

“This overnight woman of yours, this… damn the gods, what was her name
again?”

“Riley.”

“Right,” Jess continued. “Thanks. This
Riley
. You said you found her challenging. Would you say you stand
by that assessment?”

I straightened my tie in the mirror.

“I think so.”

“She could be the answer you need.”

I paused. “…Go on.”

“What does Alistair Pritch have that you don’t, Lex? Really think about
that for a moment. What makes him
way
more
attractive than you for a corporate, multi-million sponsorship?”

“Choose your words carefully,” I growled.

“I’m not trying to stir you up,” she smiled. “Apply those critical
thinking skills of yours.
What does he
have that you don’t?
”

I begrudgingly considered her question.

“His record is weaker… but he’s a maverick on the field… he’s a defiant
upstart, a wildcard, but a highly-calculating–”

“You’re looking at the wrong details,” she coerced me. “Think about his
stability.
”

“What are you getting at?” I demanded, whirling around to stare at her.
“Do you have a plan, or not?”

Jess smiled at me softly, the way one would at an adorable pet. I didn’t
like it. “Pritch has a wife,” she responded. “A wife and a kid. He’s got a
solid family, and that carries through to his reputation off the field. None of
these playboy scandals of yours… he’s clean. Squeaky clean.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Everyone knows you’re the better player Lex, but he’s a
safe
bet,” Jess commented.

“And that’s what Brett Barker wants,” I growled, driving a fist into the
wall. I could feel it slightly give way beneath my pressure. “He wants a safe
bet. No scandals, no fuck-ups.”

“That’s right. He’s going to choose Pritch over you because you’re the
loose cannon football star.” Jess threw her hands up as she spoke. “Sure, you
have the prestigious record, the respect, and the wins under your belt… even if
the National Team hasn’t won the World Cup beneath your leadership.”

“The National Team hasn’t won a World Cup since 1966,” I clarified.

“Oh, I’m not saying you aren’t a capable leader, by any means,” she
backtracked. “But you haven’t given him that hole-in-one. You’ve been National
for, what, three years now? If you’d led the team to international domination,
that’d be one thing…”

“Not everyone on the team is as good as me.”

Jess caught the primal, irritated tone beneath my voice. “Be that as it
may… we’d be having a
very
different
conversation right now if they were. Instead, the Head of Public Relations
needs to make the wiser choice for corporate sponsorship.

“Sounds like both of his highly-qualified options are: the popular, arrogant
playboy, practically a force of destruction both on the field and off… and the
defiant but grounded, beloved subordinate, who is
still
a pop culture icon and a member of the National Team.

“Who’s he logically going to pick?”

I grit my teeth.

“
Unless
you show him something
else.”

“Something like Riley.”

“That’s right,” Jess schemed. “No more of these ridiculous one-night
stands, public intoxication feats, and making my job a living
nightmare
,” she told me. “You’ve got to
settle down. Find yourself a nice girl. An
American
could work… it’s an interesting but believable choice for you. Someone who
challenges you… someone who can keep you in line.”

“And I have to marry her?”

“Of course not!” Jess laughed. “But getting a girlfriend out of her is a
step in the right direction, wouldn’t you think?”

I dwelled on this a little longer.

“You think it’s her?”

“From the way you went all googly eyes when we were talking about her?”
Jess asked, standing up from the chair and straightening out her outfit. “She’s
a girl you sound like you actually
respect.
I think she’s a probably a good start.”

Chapter 5

Riley

Unsurprisingly, the English guy had turned out to be an arrogant prick.

And the sex had been phenomenal…

Isn’t that how it always worked?

It wasn’t all bad… It’s just a shame that I didn’t have a chance to cut
my proverbial tether and bolt before the woman showed up.

I wasn’t sure who she was.

A wife?

A girlfriend?

It didn’t really matter. I’d gathered up my things and just pushed my
way out the door and the asshole didn’t even try to stop me.

It wasn’t hard to navigate down to the ground floor and out the door. He
was staying at one of the halfway-decent hotels in the area, and within a
couple of minutes I was already on my way back home to my apartment.

Oh well
, I thought to myself.
At least I
got myself a great fuck in there before the sky came crashing down.

The further away from the hotel I walked, the more that I considered the
night. It had been more than just sex. Lex had pushed me to my very limits. The
Englishman knew just how to excite me in the best ways, ramping up my passion
before letting me dangle precariously at that precipice… letting me drift back…
and then pushing me again and again, teasing me, until I finally begged for
release.

When the release came, it crushed me.

I didn’t reveal the fact, but I experienced my first multiple orgasm
that night. Most guys hadn’t really been particularly useful in the orgasm
department, either finishing too quickly or not at all… but it was rare that I
got to ride the climax myself.

With Lex, I’d lost count of the amount of times he’d thrown me over the
cliff.

He was so brutishly rugged, and then there was that English charm of
his. Every breath of his accent excited me, forcing me to hang upon his every
last syllable. When he asked me to come for him, I couldn’t help but oblige…
and my fingernails had dug into his skin, riding out the intense heat between
us.

And then he came inside me. It was the most incredible feeling in the
world…

“Oh fuck,” I thought aloud.

I came to an actual stop on the sidewalk and considered the
implications.
What if he had been lying?
I
thought to myself.
He told me that he was
clean, and that he’d had a vasectomy… I had completely believed him without
question.

What the fuck, Riley?

So maybe I wasn’t the first girl who made a mistake like that… I was
better than this! I’d just cross my fingers and get myself tested. How did I
let this happen?

I continued strolling back towards my apartment. After twenty more
minutes of walking, I was ascending the stairs up to my humble abode and
clicking the key through the keyhole.

It was time to see if my little taste of England had worked for my
creative side… For the rest of the day, I decided to try painting. I needed
something special if I wanted any chance of earning the attention from the one
woman in the world who’s opinion really mattered…

Gloria Van Lark.

Van Lark was a legend in the museum world. As the head curator for the
Spinnoc
museum in San Diego, she was
known for her tall, hawkish appearance and her fiercely volatile temper.

This was a woman who was not to be trifled with, and who took her time
very seriously. Just obtaining enough of her attention for an audience got you
accepted into a number of distinguished museums around the country.

Then, there was the significant hurdle of
actually impressing her.

Gloria Van Lark didn’t care for resumes and histories. The fact that I
had been gifted with an artistic scholarship to Finland, allowing me to take a
full year to pursue an isolated artist’s retreat, would mean precisely
nothing
to her.

Neither would the gamut of smaller museums that
already
carried some of my work, or the fact that I’d been fully supporting
myself through my painting since I was a young teenager.

All that Van Lark cared about was the final product. After all, that was
all that her clients and customers would see. It was probable that none of them
would know these pieces of trivia about me, not unless I wound up with an
exhibit, somehow…

But
that
was wishful thinking
too high for even
my
lofty dreams.
Exhibits were mostly reserved for dead artists… And I was still very much
alive.

I found it hard to concentrate on the painting with my thoughts wrapped
up in my irritation with Lex, and my fears that Gloria would never consider my
work…

After blowing the entire day trying to focus on three different
paintings — a beach at sunset, a forested mountain at night, and a small child
crying – I eventually gave up on the prospect. Instead, I tossed my pallet down
in frustration, washed my brushes, and kicked it back onto the couch.

It was starting to get late in the day. I realized that I hadn’t eaten
anything, and I thought about seeing if Reiko or Will wanted to grab a bite to
eat.

I vetoed Connor immediately, on account of how standoffish and jealous
he’d been about the Englishman at the bar. It had been clear from the start
that he was passive-aggressively furious about the perceived competition.

I really didn’t like that.

As for Reiko… I remembered that she was closing the sandwich shop
tonight and working late on some payroll issues. She’d had to fire her
assistant manager for trying to steal money, and that meant going through the
finances and double-checking
everything
,
just to be sure.

Oh yeah… she’d be doing
that
all
night.

I made myself a quick sandwich to tie myself over, flicked on the
Netflix, and then watched a few episodes of one of the millions of shows I was
way behind on. By the time I was about done with that, it was getting pretty
late, and I needed to decide whether to cook, order delivery, or venture out
and grab a bite.

I decided on the latter.

Halfway towards the local Lebanese place, I felt drawn back towards the
bar. I tried to ignore the sensation, knowing what was probably waiting for me
there, but as I sat down and unwrapped my chicken shawarma
dinner, the compulsion stood its ground.

That’s why, after I finished my dinner, I decided to say
fuck it
to myself and mosey over a few
blocks. With a little bit of luck, I’d just pop in and out, and then
immediately move on with the rest of my life.

I wasn’t that lucky.

As I’d expected, Lex was sitting at the bar in his usual spot. Some
woman in a fancy dress was sitting next to him, laughing away and putting her
hand on his shoulder.

I almost turned and walked out…

But he shrugged his shoulder free, glancing away. I could tell that he
wasn’t particularly enjoying her company, but she wasn’t taking the hint. It
was only when he leaned in with a cruel smile on his face and muttered
something that she understood, pulling away indignantly.

She slapped him across the cheek, rising up from her chair and storming
off.

Well… now or never, I guess.

Before someone else could try their luck, I sat down next to him. He
looked honestly surprised, doing a brief double take before finally settling
back into facing forward, both hands around his tumbler of liquor.

“What will you have?” He asked.

“Bloody Mary.”

He gave a crisp nod to the bartender, who wandered over our way. A few
minutes later, he was dropping off a glass at my fingertips, filled with a
delicious concoction of vegetable juices and liquor.

“Thanks,” I nodded towards the bartender in appreciation. He offered a
quick smile before stepping away to take another order.

“I’m glad you came,” Lex told me, still facing forward. I could see his
fingertips slide further around the glass, constraining it within his grasp.

“Who was that woman from earlier today? The other one of you with the
English accent?” I asked suddenly.

“That was Jess.”

“Jess…” I traced the syllable with my lips. “Is she your wife?”

He actually laughed, breaking his composure to cover his eyes with his
hand. “Never in a million years,” Lex smiled softly.

“Girlfriend, then?”

“Jess enjoys a good power complex. She only dates the younger folk…
expendable idiots who can keep her attention for a brief while, before she
inevitably expels them,” he chuckled. “Jess is the best damn friend I’ll ever
have, but that’s all that we will ever be.”

“Oh,” I murmured.

It hadn’t occurred to me that she might be anything less than his lover,
and I suddenly felt rather silly in the head. It wasn’t a sensation that I
enjoyed, although I knew that I deserved it this time.

“So, what is she, then?
Old
friends?
What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s
sort of
my agent.”

“Your agent? What are you, a movie star?”

“I’m not a movie star,” he replied, sipping from his drink. “I play
football.”

“Football? In England?”

“It’s not
your
football,” he
mentioned offhandedly. “You’d call it
soccer
.
But to the rest of the world, what I play is called
football
.”

“I see,” I replied.

“You sound disappointed,” Lex observed.

“You’re one of those meathead sports players,” I told him. “I could
never stand athletes. They’re always just so full of themselves. Always
thinking they need to dominate everything around themselves.”

Lex thought on that for a moment, but he didn’t respond, which I found
rather telling.

“So, what are you doing in America, then?” I asked, surprised that I
even really cared. “You’re a long way from England.”

“Just passing through.”

“I think you mentioned that before,” I recalled. “And you brought your
agent? On a quick jaunt through New Orleans?”

“She can never turn down a good trip. Always loves to get out of England
as often as she can. She has to stay close to me, especially when I’m playing
internationally.”

He suddenly looked disappointed with himself, as if he’d fumbled and
revealed some major detail to me.

“You play other countries?”

“Sometimes,” he responded coolly.

“Well, you must be a big deal, then.”

Lex smiled wistfully. “Nah… just a guy.”

We sat in silence for a moment, sipping from our drinks while we thought
on things.

“I heard something about a contract this morning. What kind of
contract?”

“Just some promotional thing,” Lex replied absentmindedly. “Jess swung
by to tell me that there’s another player that’s in the running for it, so I
might miss out on it.”

“Is it important?” I asked.

He chose his words carefully.

“It’s very important to me.”

I didn’t particularly understand, but I nodded anyway. It seemed like
the appropriate thing to do, given the circumstances.

“So, what do
you
do?” He
asked.

“I paint,” I answered noncommittally.

“You paint? Any good?”