Playing for Love

by Mel Curtis

  Amber had been surprised when Trina was tossed into the police van with the rest of the women after the fight. Trina had mumbled something about the police lacking a sense of humor before reassuring Amber that the rest of the staff would clean up the mess and lock up Tingle. The riot was guaranteed to bring more business to the club when they reopened tonight. There was nothing L.A. liked more than a celebrity brawl hot spot.

  But she’d ruined everything for the Dooley Foundation. Who would pay Amber to give them advice when her own life was such a mess? The irony of it was that if the Dooley Foundation failed Amber would be free to love Evan. Only he wanted Mimi.

  It was now after noon. The Flash was playing its last regular season game at two o’clock. Although Amber wanted to be there, she wasn’t planning on going. Her body felt as if she’d been run over by a commuter train. As soon as she was sprung from jail, Amber wanted a hot shower, a change of clothes and an aspirin for her bruised and throbbing hand.

  “All the other women from the fight got bailed out already,” Trina whined, tugging on the bars. They were left in the big cell with women arrested for possession of narcotics and some very old, very tired looking hookers.

  “I called my lawyer.” Amber stared at her swollen knuckles, feeling a vast emptiness. In addition to asking Mr. Kremer to bail her out, she’d told him to fire Sonny and Yvonne, if those were their real names. The old lawyer hadn’t sounded surprised at her request, which had Amber wondering how, if at all, she should try to pick up the pieces of her life coaching career and who she could trust if she did. “When I get out I’m going to reconsider becoming a nun.”

  The door opened down the hall. “Rule. Hurst.”

  “It’s about time.” Trina hurried to the door.

  It took another thirty minutes to return their possessions and process their paperwork. Finally, they were shown through the last locked door where two men waited.

  “Thanks for bailing us out.” Amber hugged Franklin Kremer and then turned to Lyle. “This is a surprise. Are you bailing someone out?”

  “I suppose you thought being in prison gave you a free pass to skip our last session?” Lyle Lincoln wore a pink and white checked cardigan over black slacks. Rare color bloomed in his cheeks as he grinned. “But seriously. Your sister called me last night with the Tingle take down news. I came to bail you out after I had brunch with Winnie Tiegler, but your lawyer beat me to the punch.” He patted Trina on the arm. “If I’d have known you were here, I would have bailed you out, too, Sweetie.”

  “What?” Amber stopped trying to make sense of anything and trapped Trina with a glare. “You’re as bad as Cora.”

  “Bartenders, bouncers, personal trainers, maitre des.” Lyle rubbed his hands together. “The little people see so much in this town that interests my readers.”

  “But she’s my friend.” A friend who’d wanted to sell the Foundation’s client list. Amber shook her head. “You were my friend.” What if Trina had told Lyle about her father’s artwork? Or worse, the names of the celebrities in each picture?

  Mustering what few shreds of dignity she had left, Amber marched toward the exit. What was the point in trying to salvage the Foundation? If her father’s secrets were out Amber couldn’t sell life coaching with a squeaky clean reputation – something she was conspicuously without.

  “Wait.” Trina darted in front of her. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Really? You expect me to believe – ”

  “Not one name from you know what,” Trina whispered. “The only thing I give Lyle is buzz about the club. It helps business.”

  The shock of betrayal was too new. Amber wasn’t sure she could believe Trina.

  “Amber.” Franklin stepped forward. “I have something for you. From your father.” He handed her an envelope.

  “Am I fired?” She certainly deserved it, but she’d hoped…What was the use in that? Amber took the envelope with a hand that only shook slightly.

  Dear lovely Amber,

  If you’re reading this, you have passed my test and are qualified to be a life coach, although you may still have a sales goal to reach.

  A laminated business card included in the envelope announced Amber to be a certified life coach and the Dooley Foundation’s CEO. More like Certifiable Executive Officer.

  “Ah.” Lyle peeked over her shoulder. “That’s the identification I was looking for the day we met.”

  Amber put distance between them and read more of her father’s letter.

  Pardon my cowardice for apologizing to you this way rather than in person. As you undoubtedly know by now, I tried out some of my earliest theories on you. Two of my acting clients failed to pass the test and I’m afraid you paid the price.

  That would be Kent and the panty-taster.

  But you’ve passed! You’ve reinvented yourself into a successful business woman who knows how to set boundaries and put herself on a path toward her goals.

  Considering last night’s fiasco, Amber probably shouldn’t have been given the letter.

  And by building your self-esteem you’ve shown yourself to be able to control situations rather than run away. I wonder if you can imagine how proud I am of you.

  The last two lessons I hope you learn are Choice – because there are always options available to you (whether you decide to stay in Pasadena after you meet your sales quota or continue to run the Dooley Foundation, as I hope) – and Forgiveness – because I can never hope to make up for the pain I caused you. I have always wanted only the best for you. If I was less than perfect, I had the best of intentions.

  Much love, Dad

  Acutely aware of her audience, Amber swallowed back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Finally, she had proof: Dad loved me.

  If Amber had to go on without Evan, knowing this was consolation. “But I don’t understand. Why now?”

  Franklin’s smile was gentle. “Everyone your father put in your path as part of your growth process vouched for you.”

  Amber cast a doubtful eye toward Lyle, who’d drifted over to talk to the clerk at the counter.

  “Not him.” Franklin shook his head. “Gemma. Senge. The actors you know as Sonny and Yvonne. Trina.”

  “Trina?”

  “Let me explain,” Trina said.

  Amber held up a hand, grateful Franklin hadn’t named Evan. She couldn’t handle being another charity case. “Not now. Franklin, can you drive me back to my car?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Wait.” Trina blocked her path once more. “Where are you going?”

  Staring at her scuffed Italian sandals, Amber hesitated. She wanted to say Pasadena. Really, she did. Amber treasured her privacy and Pasadena was too great a trek for the paparazzi. And yet…the Dooley Foundation was here, loaded with frustrations, challenges, strange rewards and one little drawback…the spotlight.

  And then she realized that Lyle didn’t seem to mind that she’d started a bar brawl. And the phone rang off the hook every time she was in the press. Maybe she wasn’t a failure after all.

  “The Flash game is about to start,” Lyle supplied slyly.

  “You do have a sales quota to meet,” Franklin put in.

  “And you haven’t tried to cover yourself up once all night,” Trina pointed out.

  Amber shook her head. What was the point in putting the girls on display? Evan wanted Mimi, not her.

  “No matter what happened between you and the big guy,” Trina said softly. “He plays much better when you’re there. And if he wins this game you’ll meet your sales quota. With that pressure off you can figure out what you want to do.”

  It would be hell seeing Evan again, to watch him take command of the court and know that he wasn’t hers. The prudent thing to do would be to crawl back to Pasadena and lick her wounds in private, not show her face where there were bound to be a hoard of cameras.

  Something crumpled in her hand. Amber realized she’d been clutching her father’s letter. Her fathe
r wouldn’t have quit, but he’d once dressed like Gene Simmons to attend a Kiss rock concert. He had guts. And Amber…she may not have been so gutsy, but her father loved her. She had to ignore embarrassment and heartache and try to salvage the Dooley Foundation. “Okay. I’ll go.”

  The group trundled out to the parking lot until Amber realized Lyle was tagging along. Trina she could take, but Mr. Gossip?

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Amber demanded.

  “I took a taxi over here. I need a ride and I find I have nothing to do this afternoon but attend a basketball game.”

  “But…why?”

  “I find you fascinating.” Lyle grinned. The expression transformed his pointy face into something warmer, kinder, almost…endearing. “I don’t know what it is about you, but you bumble your way through every mess you’ve been in and come out better than before, just like your father.”

  “I’d thank you, except I’m kind of not doing so well right now.” Amber’s voice pitched up like Minnie Mouse. “Seeing as how I just got out of jail and found my best friend betrayed me.”

  Lyle didn’t seem to notice. “I didn’t want any of your father’s stupid Rules to work for me and so they didn’t. Camp Wiggy-Bottom was a nightmare. Charity Case a prison sentence. And, well, let’s just say his methods were a bit too dramatic for me. But then you came along. And look at me.” Lyle posed. “I’m like one of those losers from a make-over show. I got asked out by a sheriff a few minutes ago.”

  “Seriously, Lyle, I’m happy for you, but…”

  “I want to go out and get my own gossip now. I want to be seen on the red carpet. I want…” Lyle’s voice dropped to a whisper. “…to have my own show on E!” And then he looked at Amber hesitantly, as if he’d gone too far.

  Lyle wanted Amber to validate his dreams. He wanted her to promote the Rules, as if she was his life coach, when all she’d done was perform a simple makeover and done some verbal sparring. Which, Amber allowed, could fall under the duties of a life coach. She made a mental note to ask Franklin if her father had left her any notes on his coaching process.

  “You have to Trust these things will happen to you,” Amber recited dutifully as they all climbed into Franklin’s humongous Cadillac. “Think of how it feels to have that success and Welcome the possibilities that will come your way.”

  “I will,” Lyle said rather breathlessly.

  “Good.” Amber braced herself for her reflection in the mirror. “We’ve probably accomplished everything we needed to this session.”

  “Amber…”

  “Yes, Lyle.” Amber cringed at the smeared makeup beneath her eyes and the way her hair stuck out.

  “You’re the it girl of L.A. Rest assured, I’ll drop you like yesterday’s fashion if you become boring.”

  Where the hell was Amber?

  Not in her usual seat behind the Flash’s bench. Cora sat there, staring at Evan as if she was starving and he was the main course for dinner. Amber wasn’t in Jack’s sky box either. Maybe she wasn’t coming.

  Evan wiped the sweat from his face during a time out. He loved Amber. A day after realizing it, Evan still had a hard time believing it. Amber set aside her pride and helped everyone who’d come to her for assistance, despite the fact that they treated her like dirt. She looked like a cream puff, but she was a scrapper. She wouldn’t quit. Evan just wasn’t sure if she cared enough for him not to have quit on him already.

  “Where is Amber?” Ren asked as they stood together in the back of the huddle.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want her to be here?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Maybe you should tell her,” Ren nodded toward the seats where Jack Gordon was talking to Cora.

  Evan stepped over by Jack and interrupted their conversation. “Where’s Amber?”

  Cora and Jack stared at Evan as if he’d sprouted a hairy growth on his face, rather than one incredible shiner.

  “I want to dedicate this game to Amber. She’s the reason the Flash came together as a team,” Evan added before heeding Spinks’ call back to the court, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “This is a different Flash team than we’ve seen before.” Brock couldn’t believe it. “They’ve brought a team to play where there used to be a bunch of, well, frankly, ball hogs.”

  “Oliver has been a real leader out there. Look, he’s telling Antione he’s out of position.” Pablo Alvarez laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Everyone predicted this would be a blow-out and the Flash is making a game of it. Absolutely amazing.” Brock cleared his throat, glancing over his shoulder to where his wife sat staring at him with adoring blue eyes. “I have to admit, I doubted it would ever happen, but Coach Spinks – no – Evan Oliver deserves a lot of respect for the way this team has turned itself around. He may see himself as some kind of superhero loner, but he’s really a team player.”

  The horn reverberated in the Forum signaling the end of the first half. The Flash was up by two points. There was still no sign of Amber. Evan went around the bench to where Cora was sitting. “Where is she?”

  “She must have gotten stuck in traffic,” Cora said evasively.

  Spinks yelled for Evan to move it to the locker room, but Evan didn’t budge. “You did get her out of jail, right?”

  Cora smirked.

  Something dark and unpleasant clawed at Evan’s chest. “You’ve made a deal with Jack Oliver. You’re shutting her out.” Amber had laid the foundation for the Flash to become a great team and now her backstabbing sibling was going to take credit for it.

  “We must go.” It was Ren at his elbow.

  “You won’t get away with it,” Evan promised.

  “Evan, you may be hot, but there’s nothing you can do to stop me short of losing.” Cora laughed again.

  “There’s an accident ahead,” Franklin said, braking and moving into the slow lane, which was grinding to a halt. The old lawyer drove like a turtle on the freeway.

  “This is L.A. There’s always an accident,” Amber said. “Stay in the left lane. At least they’re moving.”

  “No-no. I have to move over in case the emergency crews need to help someone.” Franklin white-knuckled the steering wheel.

  Amber peered at her elderly lawyer. “When was the last time you drove on the freeway? Before today I mean.”

  Franklin adjusted his bifocals. “Maybe last year? No. That’s not right. Two years ago.”

  Amber ground her teeth. “Pull over.”

  “Oh, my God.” Franklin did as he was told. “Do I have a flat tire?”

  “No, but L.A. drivers are sharks and you’re a guppy,” Trina said. “We want to get to the game before it ends, not at the beginning of next season.”

  Amber’s cell phone rang.

  “Thank God you’re out of jail.” Blue sounded panicky. “I was trying to get to the jail, but now that I know you’re out I can go to the Forum. Where are you?”

  “I’m stuck on the four-o-five.” She ran around the back of the car while Franklin tottered around the front.

  “Cora went to the Forum to close the deal with Jack Gordon. I need you there in five minutes.”

  “We’ll be lucky to make it in twenty-five. There’s an accident and – ”

  “A friend of mine just texted me. Evan is on the brink of a meltdown, Jack Gordon is on the war path and Cora is just sitting back smiling. We’ll lose the Flash contract if you don’t get here now.”

  Amber disconnected and gunned the Caddy down the right shoulder.

  Evan stole the ball from Joel Cotter and made a lay-up bringing the Flash ahead of the Dallas Mavericks by ten points. Spinks was yelling at him from the sidelines and it wasn’t Go Oliver. But he wasn’t calling a time out, so Evan just kept on creating opportunities for his team.

  Dallas took a time out with two minutes left on the clock. Evan was tired and his lungs were burning, but the sooner he wrapped up the g
ame, the sooner he could get to Amber. He couldn’t stand the idea of Amber left in a jail cell.

  Ren tapped Evan’s shoulder. “If I set a screen for you, will you pass me the ball?”

  Evan hesitated. He wanted to stretch the lead and put the game away, ensuring the win so he could concentrate on freeing Amber. Trusting the team wasn’t an option. What if they lost? His future and Amber’s hung in the balance. But they’d played so well in the first half.

  “Oliver?” Ren prompted as the Mavericks came back out to the court.

  “Yes. Okay. But only if you knock somebody to the ground on the other end of the court.”

  Bright red hair behind the Flash’s bench caught his eye. It was Amber, looking bedraggled and jail numb, but still gorgeous in Evan’s book.

  “Time out. Time out,” Evan called. Whistles blew as Evan ran over to Amber and swept her into his arms. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Put me down.” She squirmed, glancing at a cameraman approaching them.

  A man who vaguely resembled Lyle Lincoln stood next to her, pointing across the court. “Is that Brad Pitt? He’s shorter in person than I expected.”

  Blue ran out of a side tunnel, messenger bag banging against his hip.

  This was it. In the next two minutes Evan was going to have everything he ever dreamed of and a lot more – an NBA career, endorsement deals, and a goddess for a wife. Evan dropped onto one knee. “Marry me.”

  Amber’s face burned bright red. “Evan, not now.”

  The crowd exploded with raucous appreciation. Evan was pretty sure his proposal was captured on the JumboTron.

  Damn it. He’d made a mistake. This should have been private. Amber was all about privacy. Unfortunately, Evan’s life was anything but private. “Amber, I – ”

  “Please.” She cut him off, her big brown eyes pleading. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but please, not now.”

  Spinks was behind Evan screaming his bloody heart out. He’d probably collapse from a heart attack soon.

  But Evan had laid his cards out on the table in front of God and ESPN as someone shoved a microphone between them. “I won’t take no for an answer.” If Amber said no, he’d be labeled a pussy and a pushover. Everyone would try to control him.