“Yep,” Marla said sourly. “The jerk barely pays a cent of child support, even though he’s rich. Ace went off to college, UCLA I believe, then got drafted in the NFL.”
“Do Silver and Ace keep in touch?” Angie said.
“No, Silver swears she wants nothing to do with him.” She chuckled. “But if you ask me, she’s still carrying a torch for him.”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t be?” Angie said. “I mean, look at him, and he’s a football star,” she said dreamily.
“Something happened between Ace and Silver, but whatever it was, she doesn’t talk about it … not even with me.”
It was at this moment that Silver had enough. She balled her fists, her voice crackling with indignation. “I beg your pardon.”
Marla and Angie jerked around, their faces draining.
Silver straightened to her full height, eyeing them. “I’ll have you know that I’m not carrying for a torch for Ace Sanchez,” she spat, honing in on Marla. “And I resent you saying that I am.”
Marla’s eyes rounded as she drew back. “I—I’m sorry,” she sputtered.
“In the future, you don’t need to hold anything back from me, you understand?”
She nodded. “Um—” Marla began, but Silver wasn’t finished. She was on a roll and determined to get it all out … once and for all.
Silver’s hands went to her hips. “If Ace comes looking for me, you tell him I’ll be happy to meet him any place … any time.”
“But,” Marla interrupted.
“Oh, no, I’m not finished yet. Better yet, the next time I see Ace Sanchez, I’ll tell him that myself.” She wagged a finger, her tone going sharp. “In fact, I’ll tell him when to stand up, when to sit down, and if he can go to the bathroom. You got that?”
“Yep, got it. Crystal clear,” a male voice said from behind.
Silver froze, the realization of what was happening hitting her like a Mack Truck. Somehow, she managed to find her voice. “Ace is behind me, isn’t he?”
“Yes ma’am,” Marla said, forcing a smile through tight lips.
Silver turned to face him, her knees going wobbly. She looked into his dark eyes that held a glitter of amusement. For all her bravado, “Hey,” was all she could think to say. Dang it! He looked good. Better than she remembered.
His gaze flickered over her, igniting a slow burn in her stomach. “Silver Bliss,” he drawled in his slightly husky voice she knew so well. “My favorite wedita.” His Latino accent was still sexy as ever, not that it mattered. She and Ace Sanchez were history. “Long time no see. How’ve you been?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the confusion on Angie’s face when she heard Ace call her wedita. The direct translation was white girl, but it had always been Ace’s nickname for her—a term of endearment, he once told her. No doubt he called her that now to get a rise out of her. Not to mention he’d used her maiden name Bliss rather than her married name. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m doing okay,” she mumbled, her eyes seeming to have a mind of their own as they traced the faint line of stubble along his jaw and upper lip. How well she knew that rugged face—the dot of a mole on his right cheek, his defined chin that drew her attention to his sensual lips. Her gaze trailed down the lines of his strong jaw to his prominent Adam’s apple, then back up to his lips. It was crazy, but even after all these years she still remembered the feel of his lips on hers. Heat crawled up her neck, and her throat went drier than a tub of cotton balls as she gulped a swallow. His normally unruly curls were polished back for the occasion, giving him a suave, sophisticated look. He fit the bill of the eligible bachelor to a T in his black tuxedo that picked up the color of his midnight hair.
Ace looked her up and down. “You certainly look the part of Silver Bliss.”
“Thanks,” she murmured lowering her eyes, her lashes sweeping against her cheekbones. When they were in junior high, a substitute teacher was calling roll and pointed out that Silver Bliss was an unusual combination for a first and last name. “It sounds more like a winter wonderland scene than a name,” the teacher said. Ace heard the man and teased Silver mercilessly the entire year. It’s funny how that one comment jolted her back to the past, unearthing a trove of memories. She should be chewing Ace out right now, hurling the list of accusations she’d compiled against him over the years. Instead, she was standing here trying to figure out something halfway decent to say.
“So, you’re the one who put all of this together,” Ace said, a touch of admiration in his voice as he gestured at their surroundings.
She lifted her gaze to his. “Yes,” she said proudly, halfway expecting him to follow up his observation with a snarky comment.
“Impressive,” he murmured.
She drew back, surprised, feeling guilty for what she’d said about him earlier. Not guilty enough to retract the comment, but slightly guilty nonetheless. “You seem to be making quite a name for yourself on the football scene. Congratulations.” Even as the words left her mouth, she realized that she meant it. Regardless of what happened between her and Ace in the past, he deserved to be happy.
“Thanks. Congratulations to you too.”
She tipped her head. “For what?” she said carefully. Did he realize she was divorced? She hadn’t seen Ace since the day of her wedding to Riley, when they’d parted on hostile terms.
“Your business,” he countered smoothly, but she could tell from the look in his eyes that he guessed what she’d been thinking. “How’s your little girl?”
“Gracie. She’s doing great. A handful.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him about Gracie’s acceptance into The Wexton Academy, but that would be stupid. Ace was only being polite. He had no genuine concern for her daughter—Riley’s daughter. She doubted that Ace even knew Gracie had Down syndrome.
He gave her a genuine smile, which shot an unexpected dart of warmth into her chest. “I’m glad to hear that.”
For a split second, Silver could almost forget the bad blood between them and view Ace as her best friend, who’d turned into something infinitely more complicated. How had they ended up here? Two strangers, trying their best to make a semblance of polite conversation in an impersonal room.
“How’s Riley?”
And there it was, the one topic that had always come between them. She folded her arms over her chest, eyes hardening. “Okay, I guess. I don’t see him much now that we’re divorced.” She studied Ace, waiting for a reaction, but his face remained unreadable as he nodded.
Silence grew thick between them until Marla spoke. “I’m a big fan,” she said, her voice too cheerful as she stepped up and clasped Ace’s hand in a firm shake.
Silver breathed a sigh of relief. That one act was enough to get Marla out of the doghouse for blabbing her business to Angie.
Marla looked Ace up and down with open admiration. “So, you’re getting auctioned off tonight.” Her eyes danced with mischief. “I’m sure you’ll fetch a pretty penny.”
Silver couldn’t help but laugh at Ace’s startled reaction and the way his face turned a deep red. Ace had never cared for the limelight. She’d wondered how he was faring now that he was a superstar running back.
He shrugged. “It’s for charity.”
Marla wriggled her eyebrows. “Yes, indeed. Too bad I don’t have enough money to bid on you,” she purred, nudging him with her elbow. “How about it, big shot? Wanna run away with me after this shindig’s over?” She winked at Silver.
Silver chuckled inwardly as Ace cleared his throat. Marla was such a tease. She loved putting Ace, and everyone else, on the hot seat. Divorced, with a couple of kids, Marla was a good ten years older than she and Ace. She tried to act all tough on the outside, but had a heart of gold—and a steady boyfriend, they were practically engaged. Marla didn’t want to go out with Ace any more than a goose. She just liked watching him squirm. It was kind of fun, Silver admitted. A taunting smile tugged at her lips as she cut her eyes at Ace. �
��I suppose Angie and I could cover for Marla while you two make your big escape.”
Ace’s mouth went slack, the second before he burst out laughing. He pointed at Marla, his fingers forming a gun as his thumb flicked down the trigger. “You’re good,” drawled.
She just laughed.
Silver nearly fell to the floor when Ace touched her arm, the warmth of his strong fingers sending a jolt of electricity through her. “Hey, on a serious note, I was wondering if we could get together after the event—maybe grab a cup of coffee.”
Her eyes bugged. “Um, I have to get home to Gracie. She’s with a sitter.”
He nodded in disappointment. “Maybe next week? I’m going to the restaurant to see my parents. I’m sure they’d love to see you too.”
Silver was at a loss for words. She just stood there, looking at him. Where was all of this coming from? Did he really think they could pretend nothing happened?
“I’m sure she’d love to do that,” Marla inserted, giving Silver a forceful look.
“There he is,” a high-pitched voice cooed. “The star of the auction.”
Silver was surprised to see Clarissa Lansing, the chairwoman of the gala and her boss on this project, striding toward them, her hands outstretched. When she reached Ace, she gave him a fierce hug and air-kiss on both cheeks. She pulled back, holding him at arm’s length as she assessed him. “You look positively gorgeous, darling.” A throaty laugh bubbled as she trilled her tongue. “The women are gonna love you.”
Ace grinned. “You look lovely, Clarissa. Gold suits you,” he said referring to the color of her tight, sequined dress.
Clarissa’s lips creased into a pleased smile. “Thanks, sugar, I think so too.”
Ace looked past Clarissa. “Where’s Clyde? He should know better than to let a beautiful lady like you out of his sight.”
She patted Ace’s cheek, giggling. “You silver-tongued devil. Clyde’s on his way.” She frowned. “Taking his sweet time. You know Clyde, he hates these types of things.”
Ace winced in understanding. “I feel his pain.”
“You’ll do great. Have the other players arrived yet?”
“They’re on their way.”
“Good.” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s going to be a great evening.”
In her mid-fifties, Clarissa Lansing was the epitome of a social butterfly who married into money when she caught the eye of an oil tycoon. And from the looks of her, she was determined to spend every nickel of her husband’s money she possibly could. Her dress looked like it cost a small fortune, and she was keen on advertising her assets. The neckline of her dress plunged deeper than the Grand Canyon, revealing plastic boobs, and the skin on her face was stretched tighter than taffy. Silver had never seen this side of Clarissa. Normally, she was a no-nonsense business woman who was only passively polite. But with Ace, she was acting like a bubbly schoolgirl. Silver had to fight the urge not to scowl, an unreasonable jealousy coursing through her. Geez. She was pathetic. Jealous of some middle-aged, married woman.
Ace turned to Silver. “I believe you know Silver Coulter?”
Clarissa smiled warmly like they were the best of friends. “Of course.” She touched Silver’s arm. “Honey, you’ve outdone yourself. Everything is perfect.”
“Thank you.” Silver felt a burst of pride, immensely grateful and relieved that Clarissa was happy. This would bode well for future business.
Clarissa turned to Ace. “I’m so glad you recommended Silver.”
For a split second, Silver thought she’d heard Clarissa wrong. “What?” She looked at Ace. “You recommended me?”
“Highly recommended you,” Clarissa added.
The floor seemed to give way under Silver as she fought to steady herself. She looked at Ace, confusion swirling over her. “I didn’t realize,” she stammered.
He shrugged casually. “What can I say? Clarissa wanted the best, so the best is what I gave her.”
“I—I’m not sure what to say,” Silver uttered.
“You simply say thank you,” Clarissa chirped, a hint of reproof in her voice.
Silver shook her head, color creeping into her face. “Yes, of course, thank you,” she said automatically. Ace’s eyes caught hers, and she felt the familiar desire swim over her.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly. Time seemed to stand still as their eyes locked. Then he seemed to remember Clarissa was there. “Oh, I almost forgot. Silver has graciously agreed to host a private dinner for me and my date from the auction.”
“What?” Silver blurted, her brows darting together.
Ace smiled a slow, intimate smile that only she would understand. “Yes, you did, and it was very kind of you.”
“That’s fantastic,” Clarissa said, bringing her hands together. “I’ll be sure the emcees announce that tidbit when they’re auctioning you off.”
“Silver agreed to personally host the dinner to make sure everything goes off without a hitch.” A devilish light sparkled in his dark eyes. “And if I’m lucky, she might even give me permission to go to the bathroom.”
Heat burned over Silver’s face. The nerve of him! She wanted to wring his handsome neck for bringing that up in front of Clarissa.
Clarissa looked funny. “I beg your pardon.”
“I only meant that Silver’s so thorough about her events that I don’t have to worry about a thing.”
“Oh,” Clarissa said. She tipped her head, growing thoughtful. “Clyde’s birthday’s coming up. I should get you to host his party.”
“I’d love to,” Silver said quickly, before Clarissa could change her mind.
“Good, I’ll be in touch.” Clarissa linked a territorial arm through Ace’s as she turned to Silver. “Sorry to steal him away, darling, but the other committee members are dying to meet him. And I wanna get a few pics on the red carpet before the other ladies get their claws into him.”
Silver stepped back. “No worries. He’s all yours.” She flashed a saccharine sweet smile at Ace. “Enjoy the auction tonight. Like Clarissa said, the women are gonna love you,” she purred, copying Clarissa’s husky drawl. She got a kick out of the uncomfortable look on Ace’s face, the lamb being led to the slaughter.
Ace nodded at Marla and Angie. “It was nice meeting you both.”
“Likewise,” Marla said. Angie just nodded, a star-struck expression on her face.
As Clarissa steered him away, Ace paused in what looked to be an afterthought, glancing back over his shoulder. “I’ll see you next Tuesday evening at six.”
Silver’s jaw went slack. “Huh? Where?”
“At your house, of course. To talk about the details of my dinner date.” Ace’s voice was firm, letting her know there’d be no escaping this.
“Okay,” she finally said, her thoughts a jumble as she watched him walk away.
“Well, that was interesting,” Marla said, giving her an insinuating look.
Silver arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said testily.
Marla clucked her tongue as she waved a hand. “Uh-huh. Sure, you don’t.” She let out a long sigh as she turned to Angie, a mischievous grin flittering over her lips. “All right, we’d better get back to work before the boss lady gets on her high horse.”
“Whatever.” Silver rolled her eyes, a wry grin curving her lips.
“In all seriousness, we probably should go check on the caterer, make sure America hasn’t put the poor woman into cardiac arrest.” Marla winked at Silver. “Have fun hobnobbing with the high society peeps. We’ll take care of the lowly stuff in the back.”
Even though Marla could be a pain in the butt at times, she was a terrific assistant, often solving a problem before Silver was even aware it existed. If the truth be known, Marla was more like a big sister than an employee. Which is why Marla got such great satisfaction out of needling her.
As Marla and Angie left, Silver tried to organize her thoughts, going through her mental
checklist. The photographer was pacified … thankfully. Marla would oversee the catering. The security guards were in place, as were the greeters on standby to answer any questions guests might have. She glanced at the stage. The sound. She needed to make sure that was okay. She stepped over to the stage where the techs were working. “How’s it going?”
The head guy gave her a thumbs up. “We’re all good to go.”
Thank goodness! Big sigh of relief. “That’s great.” She turned her back to the workers, pulled out her phone, and sent Marla a text.
Have you checked on America and Malcolm?
Malcolm Davis, a well-known black comedian, was the other emcee. Thankfully, he was the opposite of America. Malcolm was kind and gracious, putting those around him at ease.
Marla texted right back:
They’re good to go.
With nothing left to check on, Silver allowed herself a minute to relax. She replayed the conversation with Ace, still finding it hard to believe that he’d gotten her this event. Now that he’d done something nice, she was more conflicted about him than ever. Even though she’d never admit it out loud, she’d followed his career since he signed on with the Dallas Titans. She knew that June was Ace’s month off from training, that he’d bought a big house in a swanky neighborhood outside of Dallas called The Reserve, and that other football players from the Titans had homes there as well. Silver had seen several pictures of Ace online, various beauties hanging on his arm as he frequented clubs and restaurants. The Ace she remembered didn’t go for the nightclub scene, but people change. She sure as heck had changed since high school. Her thoughts flitted to Gracie getting into The Wexton Academy. She’d have to figure out the tuition payments, but at least she had a couple of months to work on that. Her brow furrowed. She still couldn’t believe Ace roped her into doing the dinner for his stupid date. Then again, she probably owed him that much for getting her this event. She hadn’t even realized Ace knew she was an event planner. He said he was coming to her house this Tuesday. Did he even know where she lived? The prospect of seeing him again sent a buzz through her, but she squelched it flat. There was no way she was getting involved with Ace again. No matter how good he looked or how attracted to him she was, it just couldn’t happen. The sooner she got that through her head, the better. She wasn’t an idealistic high schooler anymore. She had a business to deal with and most importantly, Gracie.
The Persistent Groom (Texas Titan Romances) Page 2
