by Elyse Riggs
"The only one going to jail here is you," bald guy says, refusing to give up.
Under different circumstances I might have admired his moxy, but tonight is not that night. "I took pictures of the whole room before you got here. Backed them all up to the cloud. So unless you want to have to catalogue, post, and give all of this shit back to its rightful owners, I urge you to stop threatening me and help me get my bracelet back."
Bald guy sneers at me, but then he turns and nods to the other security guards. "Fine. Where is your stupid bracelet, anyway?"
"It's in his hand, dipshit. If you hadn't spooked him, I'd have it already. And if the cops get here and so much as look at me funny, I'm going to give up your little operation up here."
I have a feeling they were bluffing about calling the cops anyway. The last thing they need on top of having a public monkey theft ring on display is for the cops to come in and possibly find other things to worry about.
I hear footsteps and another figure enters the doorway. It's Jake. Huh, I figured Tristan would get up here first but I figured wrong.
"Nice swim move, by the way," he says to me, as if we're the only two in the room. I kind of love that he’s ignoring all the goons like they don’t exist.
“Thanks.”
"I overheard we're looking for a bracelet. That would be the one Aunt Patty gave you, yes?"
"Yes." I have to admit, it's nice to have a guy in the room on my side who doesn't need ten minutes of coaching to get up to speed.
"Here, Shark. Bring me the shiny." One of the younger guards with spiky, black hair gets down on one knee like he's proposing to the monkey.
But when I look closer, I see that in his hand he has a morsel of some kind. I guess it's a monkey treat. And it's got Shark's attention. "Give me the toy, Shark," he says, this time with a little more added urgency.
Shark skitters across the pile of treasure he has hoarded over the years like a dragon. But he stops short of the guard with the treat. The guard sighs, then digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a few more treats.
One treat is obviously intriguing to the monkey, but a handful is a deal breaker. Shark tosses my bracelet to the side before running up and snatching the treats out of the guard's hand and then retreating again.
"There," bald guy says. "We good now?"
I stomp my way over to where Shark tossed my bracelet, my heels crunching on God-only-knows-what along the way. I retrieve it and inspect it. It looks okay.
"We're good. But you guys are still assholes."
That’s when I hear another disturbance downstairs. The security guards clear out, leaving Jake and I alone in the room with Shark, who has retreated to a little monkey igloo in the back to eat his treats.
Jake smiles at me. And for a moment, I don't see football star Jake. I see my Jake. That smile is genuine and relaxed and mischievous. All the things about him I have been in love with since I was seven years old. I smile back reflexively.
"I honestly thought I was going to be able to help more," he says, taking a step forward, "but as usual, you saved yourself."
I take a step forward too. "Well, technically, it was the swim move you taught me that got me past the guards."
"That was nicely done, by the way."
His hair's longer. It makes him even sexier. I know well the muscles that are rippling under that suit. After being mad at him all these years now that he's right in front of me he’s all I ever wanted.
His crystal blue eyes stare right through me, and the hungry look is back.
Without thinking, I step forward, onto my tiptoes, and move my lips closer to his. For a second, my lips hover just underneath his full, gorgeous lips and I worry I misjudged the entire situation.
Then he leans down and meets my lips hungrily. A thrill washes over me. What am I doing? This is Jake, and I know he's just going to run back to the NFL the first chance he gets.
"Jake! What are you doing?"
We break the kiss, but I stay in the moment, lost in his eyes. And then the new Jake returns.
I turn around to see that his date has somehow caught up to us. Then I wonder how she got past the guards. Maybe this is the guards' way of getting back at us.
Either way, I realize that what just happened is probably a mistake. A giant one.
"What does it look like I was doing?" he shoots back. "I was helping her get her bracelet back."
"Was it down her throat?" Emma stands there with her hands on her hips and it's all I can do not to laugh.
"He's all yours," I say, walking past Jake to where Tristan has now appeared in the doorway. Thank goodness for that, it's perfect timing.
Tristan obviously got there in time to figure out what happened. He smiles and gives me a thumbs up.
"What the hell is he so happy about?" Jake asks, demanding to know why his date is mad and mine isn't.
Tristan and I just giggle on our way out. His grin is sincere as he holds a hand out for me. I take it and we make our way triumphantly down the stairs, with me wearing my bracelet.
"You got it back!" he says. He looks impressed.
"Damn right," I answer. "How's the ankle?"
"It'll be fine with some ice, a few pillows, and a good book."
"I like your style, Tristan. I like it a lot."
As I exit the party with Tristan on my arm, my swirling thoughts are all about Jake. Is it possible the Jake that I remember is still in there?
Chapter 21
Jake
As I drive her home, Emma gives me a look that can only be described as trying to make my head explode. I'm not going to lie, I've gotten this look from women before, lots of times.
It's awkward as hell, and she has a very good point. It wasn't cool of me to abandon her and run up the stairs and help the woman I fell for in high school. And then kiss her.
Hey, everybody makes mistakes, right? It could be worse, at least she's giving me the silent treatment. Falling back into my thoughts as I roll on into the night toward her apartment complex, I can't keep my thoughts from going back to Angie. Thinking about her seems as inevitable as the palm trees that I pass on the highway.
What was that tonight? Was it a moment? My cock chimes in that what happened between Angie and I in the monkey's lair of the Pirate Ball was, in fact, a moment.
My brain is still running to catch up when I stop the car to let Emma out. One door slam later, and I'm free and clear.
That is, until I get the text from my agent. I feel a zing of excitement. Did I get signed by another team already? Before I get a chance to read the text, I feel a wave of dread.
What if that was a moment between me and Angie? And what if I walk out of here again? Honestly, I never once felt this conflicted when I was in the league. It's easier to block out all distractions between travelling, working out, press briefings and partying. Thinking back, trying to block out my thoughts on Angie was probably one of the main roots of my issues.
Either way, I pull into a spot and then read the text. Bastard. The text doesn't give any details, it just says to meet him now at Jaws Café. Five seconds later, I'm peeling out of Emma's apartment complex.
Chad Lowe is my agent, and he's a good one. If I'm being honest, he's probably earned every cent of his contract. I've put him through a bunch of shit.
My car screeches to a halt next to his lime green Porche and I hop out. He waves at me from inside. Of course. He always grabs a table at the window so he can see everything that's going on. Agents are part confidante, part lawyer, part nosy neighbor, and part private investigator. And all business.
The chime of the front door is still ringing when I slide into the booth.
He's already ordered me coffee and is drinking his own. He looks at me and his lips curl into a smile. "Good, it looks like you're already sober, so we can skip the first step."
"Funny.”
He shakes his head at me. "You know damn well I'm not joking. Hey, I'm happy you're not rip roaring drunk or wasted. Mak
es this meeting that much faster."
I nod at him to get on with it. Apparently while I was wasted or drunk, the first part of our meetings usually ended up with Chad insulting me and I never knew it. "What's up?"
"The Eagles," he says.
I lean forward. "The Eagles want me to work out for them? Tell them I'm ready. In the best shape of my life. When do they want me on a plane?"
Chad doesn't look excited. It's not a good sign.
"The Eagles want to give you a closer look, they do. They need a backup tight end since their rookie tweaked an ankle. They're looking for just your kind of physicality."
"But?"
"But, the optics, Jake."
"Optics? I look great. Haven't you noticed I'm currently wearing a suit?"
"Cute," Chad says. "But you're on the right track here. Sober, in a suit. In fact, hold on a minute," he grabs his phone, holds it up to me, and snaps a picture.
"What are you doing?"
"Sending this to the Eagles. They're going to totally think I gave you a heads up on the meeting, gave you time to prepare, though."
"You never do that shit," I tell him, perplexed. "You always let me roll up here drunk and then wait until I pop out of it. Apparently."
It's Chad's turn to lean forward. "Look, I know that. And you know that, but they don't know that. This is what I need from you," he says, turning his phone to me so that I can see the picture he's brought up.
The picture on Chad's phone is me. Drunk, smiling, and half naked in a hot tub full of half-naked women. I wince, but that was a fun night. "You're just jealous."
"Oh, I'm just married," he snaps back. "And you're quickly becoming a liability. You think Janie likes me having to jet around the country in the middle of the night to be a playboy whisperer for a publicity disaster?"
"Ouch."
"Look, it's not just the Eagles, if you don't clean up your act, I'm dropping you. I have two rookie tight ends on my roster who would kill for the chance I'm handing you. If the Eagles don't feel better about a workout from you soon, I'm dropping you and giving one of them the opportunity."
He runs his fingers through his curly black hair and adjusts his glasses. "Your contract is more money, Jake. It’s a better decision to give you first crack at this thing. Don't let me down, okay?"
My mind is reeling. If Chad drops me, that's basically the end of my career. "What do you want me to do, Chad?"
"Community service? Stay out of trouble? Stability, Jake."
"Hey," I object, "I did a billboard and a meet and greet for a struggling Veterinary Practice. It's right outside."
"That," Chad says, getting excited. "A lot more of that." A flicker of excitement plays behind his eyes, and maybe even something else. Suspicion. Does he think I'm lying?
"Where is this billboard of yours?"
Suddenly, I can't wait to show him that I did, in fact, do something to help the local community. I only did it for Angie, but he doesn't have to know that.
He thinks I just randomly showed up back here after getting cut from the Cardinals and then went to a party where I didn't get wasted after spending the last few days helping out the community.
Chad throws a twenty-dollar bill on the table and follows me out the door.
Luckily, there are several of the billboards sprinkled around town, and one of them is right across the street. I take fifteen steps and then point proudly. I stare at it for the first time. They only went up yesterday. I passed a few driving to the ball but didn't pay much attention since Emma was in the car.
I find myself staring at Angie who is smiling on the billboard, clutching her poodle gently. She looks happy. Then I glance at myself.
I've changed. Older, reckless, empty. Still smiling. On the same billboard as Angie, but certainly not together. The billboard makes it look like we're sitting together on a comfy, sky-blue couch.
On one hand I'm impressed with the technology that can pull this off, and in another way it makes me wish Angie and I were getting along like the old days. Laughing, talking, and yes, sitting on couches together.
Chad takes a picture of the billboard.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Evidence, Jake. You only have two weeks. I'm not hanging around here to babysit you this time. I'm on a plane home. But good news, this is the age of cellphones, so anything you do both good and bad will be out there for all the world to see. Don't let you down."
He turns to leave, but then spins around to frown at the billboard again. "Wait, isn't that the girl on the beach?"
He's pointing at Angie on the billboard.
"What?" I ask.
"The back-together girl. From the beach. The two of you were lying in a compromising position on the beach. But you used to go out or something? Old high school flame?"
"Oh yeah," I say, sorry that's how it's being played out on the internet. Now I know why Angie must be upset. I'm not really any more responsible or less selfish than before. All I've managed to do since I got back was pull her into my screwed-up world because I miss her.
"That's Angie." Then, before I can take it back, before I can stop my mouth, and before my brain has a chance to catch up, "she's the one who got away."
The sheer truth of it shatters me. I hear the emotion in my voice.
So does Chad. He whips his head around from the billboard back to me and studies my face for a moment. "You okay?"
I shrug. "Sure. You know me."
"Well, get it together. You can do this. I believe in you."
He doesn't. Or else he wouldn't be threatening to drop me as a client. But the words are nice to hear and they help despite the situation we both find ourselves in.
"By the way," he says as we both make our way back to the café, "what the hell is with all the pirate stuff here?"
I can only shake my head. He's worried about pirates with the bombshells he just dropped on me.
"Oh well," he says, "enjoy your pirates and your puppies and such. I have a plane to catch, see you soon. Hopefully."
He stops to study my face for a moment. "I can't wait to find out how this goes. A part of me doesn't think you have it in you, but good luck anyway."
As the words fade away in my ears, I hear his car door slam and the engine turn over. He backs up without even checking first and then he's gone. A trail of exhaust leading down an empty road, leaving me standing here in the middle of the parking lot alone with my thoughts.
Chapter 22
Angie
It's Tuesday and that means pirate festival volunteering tonight. I've been looking forward to it all week since I haven't seen Kaylee and Fi.
When I get to the beach, late as usual, I'm greeted by Kyle who has Shark on his shoulder.
"Name," Kyle says.
"You know my name, my team, and where I am on your stupid clipboard, Kyle. Just keep that little monster away from me and we'll be fine."
I make a very wide arc around both Kyle and Shark; the whole time Shark and I stare each other down while Kyle continues to look at the clipboard. I stop walking and give him another minute before interjecting. "Oh, for heaven's sake, it's Angie Houtz with a z on the end."
"No E?"
"No. With a Z like I told you."
He marks off the spot on his clipboard and I make my way toward the ocean to check in on Kaylee and Fi.
I get there just as Fi dumps a fresh shovel of damp sand near Kaylee and Kaylee looks up, her hands are dirty and her ass is wet from sitting in the damp sand.
"I'm mad at you," Kaylee says, but her face is a smirk.
"What did I do now?"
"I thought I was the resident drama queen," she answers.
Fi giggles.
"Alright," I say, "who told you about the ball."
"Nobody, there were plenty of pics on the internet." Fi answers. "My favorite is the bald guy trying to catch you running up the stairs after the monkey."
I smile. "Yeah, I beat his ass in four-inch heels."
; Kaylee brushes some sand off of the pile. "That's my girl."
Fi sets the shovel down next to me. "Rumor is, you and Jake had a moment?"
"Damn this small town. I guess there aren't any secrets. Anyway, I wouldn't call it a moment."
"They called it a kiss," Fi adds.
I grab the bucket and head for the waves. "A moment of weakness is what it was." Honestly, I have no idea what it was. All I know is I was grateful for the swim move he taught me and for Tristan understanding.
On my way back to Kaylee with the full water bucket, I scan the other teams, looking for Jake. I don't see him.
"He's not here tonight," Kaylee says as I put the full bucket down and grab an empty one. "He has a doctor appointment or something."
"Let's talk about something other than Jake. What about wedding plans?"
I watch her work. “Is it a seal?”
Kaylee is a magician with the sand. Her nimble fingers glide across the mass of lines and curves. She never tells us what she's creating, instead forcing us to guess what she's making as she goes along until we finally get it right. It's kind of fun.
"The plans are going fine. We picked the city and the venue and booked the hotel. Those are the big question marks. Now it's down to the details."
"I love the details." I offer.
"Great," Kaylee says, "then you're in charge of helping me with the details."
"What about me?" Fi asks, returning with a shovel full of sand.
Kaylee wipes a small wisp of hair from her face. "Who am I kidding? You two will be doing the bulk of the work on my wedding anyway. What do you guys say? Dress shopping next week?"
"I'm in," I say before heading back to the water.
A few minutes later we pack up the sandcastle equipment and make our way to the Beaky Tiki. In our defense, building sandcastles makes people thirsty.
Once we get settled in, Fi stares at me for a minute.
“What now?”
"I saw your billboard, are you sure you two weren't getting along that day? Because both of you are smiling. You look great. He looks like shit, of course." Fi grins at me.
"I told you, she kicked both of us out and photographed us separately. And thank goodness she's a genius. Because business is way, way up," I lean forward. "Yesterday we had an actual line when we opened."
