by K. A. Linde
“Anyway,” she said, popping open her door, “he was married.”
“Oh,” Stacia said in understanding.
Bryna wished that had been the real issue. But she had been there, done that before.
BRYNA VALETED HER ASTON MARTIN at Caesars Palace on the Vegas Strip and entered the Forum Shops for a last-minute shopping trip. She hated to admit that she was a little nervous about her first away game, but she couldn’t help it. Jitters wracked her stomach, and the only way to calm those nerves—other than sex, which wasn’t exactly accessible at the moment—was a quick shopping trip. She could use a new carry-on anyway.
Meandering through the designer boutiques made her heart happy and calmed the unnecessary nerves. She rounded the corner and entered the beautiful interior of Louis Vuitton.
A clerk immediately approached her. “Hello. Welcome to Louis Vuitton. How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a new carry-on. Something sleek.”
“I know just the thing,” the woman said with a smile.
Bryna spent a solid hour with the saleslady. It was hard to decide on only one bag, so she ended up with two—a black carry-on with all gold accents and a new gold makeup bag. After swiping her daddy’s credit card, she exited the boutique with every intention of returning to her condo to finish packing.
She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through the messages she had received while occupied. There was one from Trihn, wishing her good luck at the game this weekend. Attached was a picture of her history homework with a sad face drawn on it. Bryna laughed and clicked over to the next message where Stacia had posed for a picture in her cheer warm-ups with a thumbs-up and added text underneath.
See you in twenty.
Bryna checked the time and realized she had missed that only a couple of minutes ago. She still had some time. Maybe she would peek into one more shop before heading out.
Knowing she only had a short time, she walked through the Forum, back toward the entrance, and scoped out where to make her stop. Her smile brightened at the next entrance where a security guard was posted on the other side of the door. She sighed.
Tiffany’s.
She had a gold bangle with diamonds inlaid in the band from Jude. The smile slipped from her face for a split second, but she forced it back on. Fuck him! She was over that shit. The bracelet was the sort of thing she should be wearing, and it didn’t matter that she had gotten it when he decided to make their arrangement more serious, only to pull the rug out from under her later. Tiffany’s was too perfect to be tainted by him.
She brushed past the guard and into the large Tiffany Blue-and-white room. She marveled at the glass counters and all the sparkling jewels. Her heart fluttered. The diamonds called to her. She breezed past the engagement rings and went straight to The Atlas Collection.
Her eyes were immediately drawn to a pair of gold Atlas hoops with diamonds. She had gotten the ones without diamonds this summer in Paris, but she had been kicking herself for not getting the ones with diamonds, too. She needed them.
“Good choice.”
Bryna startled. She hadn’t realized anyone had walked up to her while she was salivating over the earrings.
She faced the stranger, and her heart stuttered. Oh, yes. So much yes.
“Well, I have impeccable taste,” she drawled.
He smiled. “I can see that.”
He was perfect. Older than even Jude or maybe the same age. Mid to late thirties and utterly delectable. High cheekbones, full lips, chiseled strong jaw, and gleaming light-brown eyes. What she noticed next was just as important—an indulgent custom suit that fit him like a second skin. With that kind of cut and quality, it had to be something straight out of London’s Savile Row. A fine suit had all the same necessary characteristics as a diamond, and both should be worn as often as possible.
She shifted her Louis Vuitton bag to her other arm and faced him head-on. “It appears I’m not the only one with good taste.” She wet her lips.
“You can never go wrong with diamonds.”
She completely agreed. “You think so?” she asked, playing coy.
“Absolutely.”
“And what exactly are you shopping for?” She was mesmerized by his cool exterior.
Their conversation was intense, and they had barely shared more than two-dozen words. He had a commanding presence with such little effort.
The man leaned in slightly. “Just browsing.”
He looked her directly in the eyes, and she got the impression he considered her to be merchandise.
If the Harry Winston diamonds around her neck were any indication, she could be bought.
“I would recommend anything in Tiffany’s,” she managed to get out.
An easy smile crossed his face, and she wondered exactly what he was thinking.
“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll find something that I like.”
Goose bumps broke out on her skin. She needed to get herself under control. This man was too much. She hadn’t even checked if he was married, and it scared her a bit to know that she wouldn’t care.
He had done this to her. It was a slippery slope, and she couldn’t get her footing.
She needed to make up her mind about what to do. She had thrown that drink in Thomas’s face at the bar because he had played the game wrong. Do I want to play at all?
Her only requirement was complete control. She needed it to breathe, to survive. But under the right circumstances, she would let it happen. And this seemed to be the right circumstances so far. She would let the ball roll and see whether or not he picked it up.
“Are you here on business?” she asked none too discreetly.
“What? I don’t strike you as a local?”
“Hardly!” She swished her hair over her shoulder and leaned forward. “You have that out-of-town-businessman vibe down pat.” A vibe she was very much enjoying. That meant he wouldn’t be around all the time, and she could have her fun.
“You certainly don’t look like a Vegas local either,” he admitted, evading her question.
“Transplant from L.A.,” she told him.
“Now, that makes more sense. You have that Cali vibe.”
Bryna looked down at her outfit—skintight black jeans, a black tank, and a gold belt around her waist. Me?
“Please don’t tell me you think I look like a surfer,” she joked.
It was what people always incorrectly associated with California when, in fact, there was so much more to the state than that.
“You look Hollywood or Beverly Hills.”
“That’s more like it.”
“Ma’am,” a clerk said, coming up to stand before them at the counter, “did you want to try on the Atlas earrings?”
Bryna chewed on her bottom lip, debating. She did want them, but she had already wasted her last precious minutes talking with this man—well, not truly wasted, of course. Still, she had to leave already and didn’t have time to get them. Another time perhaps.
“No. Thank you though.”
“Try them on,” the man insisted.
He gestured for the clerk to take them out of the cabinet. She placed them on a black crushed-velvet pad, and they were even more stunning when Bryna could almost reach out and touch them.
She took the earrings from the woman and switched out the ones she had been wearing for the Atlas diamonds. She brushed her hair back to look at them in the mirror and sighed delightfully.
“I think you have to get them,” he said.
“Is that so?”
“They’re perfect for you.”
She was about to agree with him when her phone rang noisily. Fuck! She dug through her purse and silenced the ringer. Stacia. Oops!
“Sorry,” she said to the man and the clerk. “Give me one minute.”
They both nodded, and she walked a short distance away to answer the phone. “Hey, S.”
“Where the eff are you, Bri? I’m at your condo. We’re supposed to leave f
or the game soon!”
“I know. I got held up. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Let yourself in.”
“Where are you? Why are you not home?” Stacia demanded.
“I’m at the Forum.”
“You’re seriously shopping right now?” Stacia shrieked. “We have to be on an airplane in a couple hours, and you just now realized you’re missing something?”
“I needed a new carry-on,” Bryna said. She was in no hurry to leave before getting the man’s name and number. That was for sure. “I’ll be back soon.”
“A carry-on,” Stacia said dryly. “You have a full closet of bags, and I’ve seen your Louis Vuitton luggage.”
“Well, you can never have too many. Plus, I got sidetracked in Tiffany’s,” she confided. She wasn’t used to having people question and command her like this. She was trying to rein in her inner bitch, so she wouldn’t tell her friend to fuck off.
“Bri!”
“And there’s a cute guy. So, I have to go.”
“B, walk out right now. No cute guys. We have a game to get to.”
“You ruin all my fun,” Bryna said in a pouty voice.
“Blame cheer.”
“Fine. I will,” Bryna said. “You know I’m only doing this because my mom cheered, right?”
“Yes. Sure. Not because you enjoy it,” Stacia said sarcastically. “Your mom was a cheerleader, and your dad was a star football player. Maybe if you didn’t hang out at Tiffany’s with hot strangers, you could meet one of those yourself.”
Bryna glanced over her shoulder at her hot stranger and lowered her voice. “But then, how will I know they can afford my lifestyle?” She was only half-joking. Or maybe she wasn’t at all.
Stacia laughed. “You have a fair point. I hate to concede to it, but it is you. And I do want a wealthy, hot NFL quarterback,” she said dreamily. “We’re not asking for too much, are we?”
“Definitely not. I really have to go. I’ll come back soon.”
“Hurry up,” Stacia said before they disconnected.
Bryna dropped her phone back into her purse and then returned to the counter. Luckily, the guy was still standing there. It seemed he had purchased something while she was on the phone.
She went to take the earrings out of her ears. “Sorry. No time to get these. I have to head out. At least you found what you were looking for.”
“Yes, I did.”
The man held the bag out to her, and she stopped trying to fiddle with the earring clasp.
“What?”
“I told you that you needed them,” he told her.
“I’m confused.”
“I got them for you.”
“You purchased the earrings?” she whispered in surprise. She had said to Stacia that she wanted someone to support her lifestyle, but she hadn’t quite expected this.
“I couldn’t let you leave without them.”
“Wow.” She took the bag from him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Of course, she was thrilled. She had rolled the ball toward him, and he had picked it up and put it on a pedestal.
“No. But I wanted to.”
It was official. This guy was too perfect. She wished she had more time.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It was nice meeting you.”
“Bri,” she said automatically.
He took her hand and firmly shook it once. “Nice to meet you, Bri. I’m Hugh.”
He smiled and then left before her. She had no idea what to make of all of that. A guy didn’t buy a girl twenty-two-hundred-dollar diamond earrings and then not ask for her number…or something more in return.
As she exited the store, she opened the blue Tiffany’s bag and peered inside. There was a blue pouch with her other earrings inside and a crisp white business card.
HUGH WESTERCAMP
WC RESORTS
On the back, he had scribbled his number. But that wasn’t the only thing that made her stomach tighten with excitement. WC Resorts owned casinos and resorts on the Strip as well as other locations. And the sole owner of the entire conglomerate and resort fortune.
Hugh Westercamp.
BRYNA AND STACIA were going to be perfectly on time for the flight out to Oregon even though Stacia was complaining the whole way about Bryna being late. Her head was up in the clouds though, and she was tuning out Stacia’s comments. No wonder she had thought the situation had all the right characteristics for her to be interested. The man was Hugh Westercamp.
Just the thought made her skin tingle with excitement. She would have to play this right. A man like that wouldn’t accept just anyone. She was shocked he had even given her his number. He must have been so fucking confident that she would call.
Déjà vu hit her something fierce. She remembered leaving her number with Jude, knowing that he must have been interested after the incredible night they had spent together with their intimate deep connection.
She rolled her eyes. What bullshit!
There had been no connection. Just hot sex and a whole lot of deception. At least she could take what had happened in her past and make it work for her here. If Hugh was used to something happening, then she’d need to be unpredictable. The card weighed heavily in her purse, but she vowed to ignore it for as long as she could. Absence made the heart grow fonder. Or at least she hoped it would make his wallet fonder.
“So, tell me about the hot stranger,” Stacia said. She hoisted her cheer bag out of the back of her SUV. “I see you have new bling. Atlas Collection. Obsessed!”
Bryna shrugged. She wasn’t ready to reveal all her secrets yet. The girls knew how she was, but Hugh felt like an investment she would have to take seriously or else it could all slip away.
“It was nothing. He was cute.”
“Older?” she guessed.
“Much. But I like that.”
“I know. I think you want a guy who already has a job and a career, so you can fit into his life.”
Fair assessment. “Nothing wrong with coming to college to get your MRS degree.”
“Don’t let Trihn hear you say that,” Stacia said with a giggle.
They walked into the airport where they were meeting the team.
“We’d both get a lecture on how college is about more than just finding a husband.”
“Of course it is. There are football, parties, drinking, dancing, cheer,” Bryna rattled off.
Stacia giggled in agreement. “So, did you give the guy your number?”
“Nope.” That was true. Stacia hadn’t asked if she had gotten his number. “I told you, it was nothing.”
“Well, you know what is something? Blaine,” she said with a sigh.
Their eyes were drawn to the quarterback, who was laughing and making jokes with his friends.
“You are not hooking up with Blaine this weekend.”
“Maybe. But my options are open. I bet we’ll both find someone sexy to hook up with,” Stacia said confidently.
Bryna’s eye caught on Andrew Holloway, who was standing near Blaine, and he smiled broadly at her attention. Yeah. She was pretty sure she could do that in the meantime while her plans came together.
LV State beat Oregon by a field goal in overtime. Bryna screamed at the top of her lungs and excitedly jumped up and down. Stacia barreled into her and hugged her tightly. Leaving Stacia behind, Bryna threw herself at her base, Daniel.
“We won! We won! We won!” she screamed.
He picked her up and threw her into the air as if she weighed nothing. To him, she supposed she probably did, considering he hoisted her into the air with one arm pretty regularly.
“So fucking awesome,” he said when she landed back in his arms.
The girls cheered on the sidelines toward the LV State fans who had made it out to the away game. The players raced past the cheerleaders and jumping over the barrier into the stands. The crowd clapped them on the back with congratulations. The press was all over it like a field day, s
napping pictures and rolling the cameras.
In the mayhem, Bryna felt someone circle an arm around her waist. She looked up to see Andrew smiling down at her.
“Hey, Bri.”
“Andrew! Congratulations! That was an amazing game!”
His hand moved a little lower, and he winked. “Maybe we can make it an amazing after-party?”
She smiled. “Maybe.”
She wished he were someone else—Hugh preferably. But Hugh was a game, and this was just for fun. Stacia was right when she’d said Bryna should hook up with people while she waited for the prize. Some fun wouldn’t hurt anything.
“Find me later.”
And he did.
Even though the team was instructed to remain model examples as they were here representing their school, a raging party broke out at the hotel. Bryna was swept away with the energy from their victory and ended up disappearing back to Andrew’s room.
Her head was fuzzy as she let him drag her into his empty room. The lights were off, and she ran into a chair, falling down, and landing hard on her ass. She broke into a fit of laughter as she tried to right herself. Andrew was there, lifting her easily from the ground and pushing her toward the bed.
His hands were on her body, pushing at the material of her slinky black dress and riding it up to her hips. He groped at her breasts, and she tried to relax into his touch. This was what she wanted. This was what she had done all summer with random strangers in Europe. She was glad she was drunk enough that she might not remember it in the morning.
This wasn’t about love or passion. Just sex. Just fulfilling her needs.
Andrew’s lips were heavy on hers as he forced her mouth open. His tongue was an invasion. He tasted like stale beer and cigarettes. She hadn’t even known he smoked. Whatever. She wasn’t going to think about it. She fisted his shirt in her hands and returned his kiss with enthusiasm.
“God, Bri, you’re fucking hot,” Andrew breathed. He twisted her breast and then grasped her bare thigh. “I knew I’d get inside this all along.”
“You knew?” she asked.
He sat on the bed and yanked her down on top of him. “Yeah, babe. Now, let’s get you out of this dress.”
