“It’s a formal event. Black tie. I expect you to wear a suit. We should meet up a little earlier to discuss your approach. So be ready by six.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t once ask if I want to attend this event.”
She looked up at me. Her eyes were piercing on the surface but underneath they looked deep enough to drown in.
“You’re right. I didn’t,” she finally said. “But did your team ask if you wanted to be suspended for a DUI? Did you ask all those women in the tabloids with you if they wanted to be dragged down with you in your spiral of embarrassment?”
I gaped at her, speechless for once in my life.
“Looks like we’re on the same page, then,” she said.
She wasn’t fucking around. Lacey Townsend had been serious when she’d said, “let’s get down to business.”
“Just so you know,” I told her. “That DUI charge? It was bogus.”
“That’s what they all say,” she said.
“I’m serious.” I looked at her, pleading with her to listen. Finally she stared back, ready for my explanation. “I never even drive myself. I have a chauffeur. I was just in the limo. I was sleeping.”
“Well, Florida has a law that says if the keys are in your hand or even near you, then that satisfies the intent element,” she said, with the knowledgeable air of someone who had plenty of clients who had had DUIs before.
“Exactly,” I told her. “So, that’s the issue. I shouldn’t have gotten a DUI. But it wasn’t as bad at it sounds.”
She shrugged, unimpressed.
“When it comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter,” she says. “It makes no difference to the public how you got the DUI, because they don’t pay attention to the details. They just care that you got one. And now, they care what you’re going to do about it.”
She was a tough cookie. What was I going to do about it? I had no clue. I had just been planning to live my life but apparently she and Coach Thompson had other plans for me.
“What am I doing here?” I asked.
“You’re here because you need your image cleaned up if you want people to see you differently. Right now, you’re the party guy, the guy who gets the girls and the booze. Not the wins.”
I frowned. “I get wins.”
She shook her head. “But that’s not what you’re famous for. You can’t tell me you like the way you’re being portrayed in the media.”
I shrugged. “I don’t really care.”
Lacey nodded. “I can see that. Maybe it’s time you start caring. Your career is dependent on your image. It’s already gotten you in trouble.”
I shook my head. “What got me in trouble is an unfortunate car crash.”
“You’re right. It was an unfortunate crash. But you know what they’re saying about that. That it was just a matter of time before something like that happened. That you were heading in that direction for a long time. That you celebrated your survival from that crash with two more women.”
I just blinked at her. It was true. They did say those things about me. But that didn’t change how women saw me or how well I played football.
“If I’m going to give up who I am for the sake of other people, there will be nothing left.”
Lacey nodded. “I understand. But I’m not trying to change you. I’m just going to ask you to change what you show the rest of the world.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “So, I don’t have to give up alcohol or women?”
She looked at me long enough without answering that I got the idea. I was going to have to change, wasn’t I?
“For a while, you might want to watch what you’re doing.”
I rolled my eyes. “What if I don’t want to?”
I realized how childish it sounded. She’d already called me a teenager once. But I didn’t want to do what she told me. I didn’t want to watch what I was doing. I wasn’t used to it. And I didn’t want to have to start.
“Look, Hanson, let’s be honest with each other. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. No one is holding a gun to your head and telling you that you must change. But if you don’t, you’re out of a job. All your hard work would have been for nothing. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”
I shook my head. “I never really understood that saying.”
A voice in the back of my head told me maybe that was because I’d always gotten what I wanted. Fuck. She was already messing with my mind.
Lacey shook her head. “I’ve been hired to do my job. I’m not going to stop doing it until I’m told to let it go by my boss. So, until then, you’re stuck with me, and we’re going to go through the motions to get you socially acceptable.”
I didn’t like being told what to do, but I didn’t see another way out. I nodded.
“I’ll see you on Saturday at six,” she said. “Don’t be late.”
I didn’t know what to say. She was a battle axe. An interesting, stubborn, sexy-as-hell battle axe. Her office phone rang, and she picked up the receiver, pressing her hand over the mouth-piece.
“Can you find your way out?” she asked.
I nodded. She pressed the phone against her ear. I’d been dismissed.
I, Hanson Bell, the man that women never rejected, had just literally been told to see myself out. This woman was more of a challenge than any I had ever met before. And, probably because of that very fact, I found myself wanting her even more.
Chapter 10 – Hanson
When I left Lacey’s office, I was irritated. I usually walked away from a woman feeling on top of things. Sometimes literally. Instead, she had taken me for a ride. And not in the fun way.
I got into my car and drove to the training facility. I was meeting up with Brian for a workout. I wanted to show Coach I was as dedicated and committed as I had said I would be. I also needed to work out some of my frustration.
“What’s gotten you so worked up?” Brian asked when I was on my fifth set of twenty on the weights.
“Nothing,” I said.
“That doesn’t look like nothing,” Brian said. He was on his second set of bicep curls.
“It’s that PR Manager,” I said. “Lacey. I met with her just before I came here. She really rubs me the wrong way.”
What I meant was that I wanted to rub her the right way, but she wouldn't let me. I wasn't about to admit that to Brian, though. I'd just get some (probably well deserved) lecture about keeping my eye on the prize.
I put the weights on the stand and sat up, searching for my water bottle. When I found it, I squirted water all over my face before drinking the rest of it.
“Is she a pain?” Brian asked.
I nodded. “An enormous pain. But God, it makes me want her.”
Shit. I'd let it slip out. Brian was like a brother to me and I could never hold anything back from him.
Brian chuckled. “That sounds more like you. I was worried for a moment that you’d found a woman you weren’t attracted to.”
I shot him a glare. I knew I'd regret mentioning anything about Lacey to him.
“It’s not my attraction to her that’s the problem,” I said. “She doesn’t seem to be attracted to me. At all.”
Brian shook his head, smiling. “Imagine, Hanson Bell has met his match.”
“Shut up,” I said, putting my bottle down and walking to the treadmill.
“What about her makes you care so much?” Brian asked. “I’m sure you can just find someone else.”
I nodded. “Of course. But I don’t want someone else. I want her.”
“Because you can’t have her?”
Yes.
“No. Because she’s hot. God, you should see this woman. She’s got it all. The body, the face, the mind. Too bad she’s just all about business.”
Brian shook his head, letting his weights drop for a breather.
“Maybe you should just play with the women who want to, you know? It would probably work out for the best that way anyway. If y
ou slept with your PR Manager, the one who's trying to clean up your image, that would just be ironic.”
“What it will be,” I said, pushing up the speed on the treadmill, “is an achievement. And I’m all about success.”
Brian shook his head without answering. I pushed the treadmill faster and faster. I wanted Lacey Townsend. I wanted to fuck her. The fact that she didn’t want me just made it that much worse. I didn’t just want her. I wanted her to want me, too. That was the challenge.
I always got what I wanted, and this time would be no different.
Chapter 11 – Lacey
I woke up at sunrise on Saturday morning and went for a jog. It was the best stress release I knew of, and the morning was fresh and crisp. On weekends, no one was out at this time, and I had the road to myself. My feet beat out a tattoo on the road, and the rhythm was soothing.
By the time I got back home, the rest of the world was waking up. I glanced at the clock above my television. It was too early to phone Hanson. I needed to speak to him before our charity ball tonight. But it would have to wait.
I got into the shower, cleaned myself up, and dried my hair before I tried phoning him. When he answered, he sounded groggy.
“Did I wake you?” I asked.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“Did you find a suit?”
He groaned. “I have a contact. She’s got one ready for me. I’m picking it up at lunch. Relax your panties.”
I rolled my eyes. Hanson Bell had made over a billion dollars from playing football and he didn't even have a suit. Why was I not surprised?
“Just be ready at six, okay?”
“Yeah, you said,” he answered.
I was about to hang up when Hanson said my name. “Lacey?”
“Yeah?” I asked, pressing the phone back to my ear.
“Let’s go out to dinner before the event.”
I hesitated before I answered.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I walked to the kitchen and turned on my coffee machine. I needed a pick me up if I was going to have to deal with Hanson today.
“It’s not like a date or anything,” he said. “You said we had to discuss the event before we go. We both have to eat. Why not combine it?”
I swallowed. “It’s strictly business.”
“Of course,” Hanson said. “I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”
Yeah, right. Hanson would dream of exactly one thing and one thing only, if I had sized him up correctly.
“Meet me at Zuma,” he said. “I’ll send you a car.”
“I’m sure I can find it,” I said.
Zuma was one of top Japanese restaurants in Miami. Of course, for someone like Hanson, going to places like Zuma or KYU or the White Room was right in his price class.
“I’m sending you a car,” he insisted. “It will be easier to go together that way.”
I had to agree. I never like to be carted around by a man, and certainly didn’t want to be right now, but I guess I could compromise for one night.
“I’ll be there,” I said and hung up.
I looked at my phone. This was just professional. He’d said so himself. Nothing to worry about. Besides, he’d been trying to get to me from the moment I’d met him. It hadn’t been easy to keep him at arm’s length.
Hanson had something about him that made me want to respond to him. It made me want to give him what he was asking for. That wasn’t going to happen. He was a client, and I was stronger than that. I had managed to shut him down so far.
Dinner tonight wouldn’t be a problem.
Would it?
Chapter 12 – Lacey
I opened my closet and looked around. I had nothing I could wear that would work for a black-tie charity ball. I had been to a couple of upper-class parties with clients, but nothing as formal as the one we were going to tonight.
I really wasn't one to talk about Hanson. But it wasn't as if I was some big baller like he was. If so, I would definitely have a closet of amazingly expensive and fancy clothes.
But as it was, I needed to go shopping. I dialed Kina’s number.
“Come shopping with me,” I said. “I have a hot date, and I need to look the part.”
“Oh, with who?” she asked.
“Just a client,” I said. “But I need to spend money to fit in, so we’re talking boutiques.”
Kina agreed right away, and I picked her up on the way into town.
“We have to go to JDO Couture,” Kina said. “You said you needed to spend money. That’s the place to go, in such a situation.”
I smiled and let her direct me. We parked and walked into the boutique. It was the kind of place that made you feel like a goddess as soon as you stepped through the door. A shop assistant came to us with a broad, dark red smile.
“Welcome to Jus d’Orange Couture, ladies. How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for something formal,” I said.
“And sexy,” Kina added. “She wants to look sexy.”
I glanced at Kina. She was smiling at me.
The shop assistant brought me an array of dresses in my size, which was extra impressive because I hadn’t told her my size. Then, I was led to a dressing room where I could try them on.
“So, a date with Hanson Bell, huh?” Kina asked, sitting outside the dressing room.
“It’s not a date,” I said, trying to get into the first dress. “It’s business. It’s for him. If it were a date, it would be for me.”
“So, if it’s business, whose place do you go to for sex afterward?”
I shook my head.
“I’m not going to sleep with him,” I said. “He’s a client. It’s a rule.”
“Is it your rule or the company’s?”
I turned around and looked at myself from all angles. I stepped out of the dressing room to show Kina.
“I don't know but it should be both," I said, after considering it. “Either way, I don’t sleep with my clients.”
Kina shook her head at the dress. “I don’t think this is the one.” She looked at me. “You wish you could sleep with him, right? He’s a football player. I can just imagine what his body must be like. How good he must be in bed, as an athlete.”
I locked myself in the fitting room's cubicle again.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I’ve seen what there is to see. If you've seen one set of abs and a big dick, you’ve seen them all. And believe me, I've seen a lot."
Kina giggled.
I wiggled out of the dress and tried another one. “Besides,” I added. “If it’s this hard to get in and out of these dresses, I don’t know how I’ll have time to get around to the sex.”
Kina giggled again.
"I need to lose a good ten pounds so I can start fitting dresses better," I said.
"No you don't," she protested. "You fill them out perfectly"
Kina was always saying I looked perfect just the way I was— like a mom even more than a friend. But as I looked in the mirror I had to admit she might be right this time. I never wore dresses this fancy but they did look good being rather form fitting against what Kina always calls my "bootylicious curves."
"This is definitely the dress," I told Kina, turning sideways and then front and back, inspecting myself from every angle as I was sure Hanson would be doing later.
“What time are you meeting this guy?” she asked.
“Six.”
“That’s early for a charity thing, isn’t it?”
“It is. We need to cover some details first. We’re going to dinner.”
I walked out of the dressing room again to show Kina dress number two.
"Woot woot!"
She let out a whistle that I could tell was for the fact that I was having dinner with Hanson, as much as it was for the dress I was wearing, which really hugged all my curves.
“Dinner before? And then a romantic formal event where you save poor kids lives by donating money to
a hospital wing? Sounds like a date to me. And I know for a fact that you have sex after the first date.”
I smiled, shaking my head. It was strictly business.
“So, this one?” I asked. “Or do I have to keep trying? This is hard work.”
“I think you look stunning. But what do you think?” she asked. “How do you feel in it?”
"I was definitely thinking this was the one."
"Good," she said. "We both agree on that then. Because I think that Hanson isn't going to be able to resist putting his hands all over those fine curves of yours."
I turned to a mirror and looked at myself again, just to be double sure. I'd need the perfect pair of shoes and elegant jewelry to complete the look, but it looked good. If Hanson had managed to get the right kind of suit, we would look good together.
Of course, that wasn’t what it was about. But still, it couldn’t hurt.
I figured every girl deserved a night on the town with a handsome, rich, celebrity athlete. Even a hardworking, no nonsense girl like me.
Chapter 13 – Lacey
I felt sweaty when I got home, even though it was probably due to nerves because Kina and I hadn't even had to shop for very long since one of the first dresses I had tried on had been perfect. That never happened to me so I was hoping it was a sign that the rest of the night would go just a smoothly.
I showered for the second time today, and used enough product on my hair that it would stay where I put it. It was a bit longer now than when I’d first cut it, and I could style it around my face into something softer and elegant than I usually wore it.
I preferred my hair short. I liked it out of the way, and I wasn’t the type of woman that wanted to seduce a man with my locks. Still, I wanted to look feminine, and tonight, I had managed.
I was happy to see that the dress looked just as good on me at home as it did at the store— that rarely happened, either. Usually I could swear the store's mirrors worked some kind of voodoo magic to make me look better in the clothes than I actually did, so that I would make an impulse buy I'd later regret when I got home and back to reality. They probably all knew I was too much of a procrastinator to ever return clothing on time.
Sold as a Domme on Valentine's Day Page 72
