Falling Into Drew

Home > Romance > Falling Into Drew > Page 3
Falling Into Drew Page 3

by Harriet Schultz


  While an exhausted Kate stood among a crowd of midtown office workers waiting for their train to roar into the overheated subway station, Drew and his agent strolled the narrow streets of Greenwich Village. They were on their way to dinner at a new restaurant owned by their friend Mike Fielding. He and Drew shared years of competitiveness on the ski racing circuit and their respect for each other had pushed each man to excel. When Drew won gold at the Olympics, Mike took bronze, but it was Mike who had out-skied Drew at their final World Cup before the two retired.

  Drew would have preferred to hang at home and order his usual take out, but any time he could help a friend, he did and without question. In a city with so many great places to eat, competition was fierce. Mike’s success could hinge as much on who hung out at his place as on the quality of the food and Drew knew that his famous face could help to create all-important buzz.

  Although a wool hat covered his hair and most of his forehead, it wasn’t much of a disguise and the waiting paparazzi spotted him immediately. “Action,” Charles whispered and pulled Drew’s hat off. Flashbulbs popped and photographers shouted a barrage of questions. “Over here, Drew.” “Are you training for the next Olympics?” “Are you seeing anyone?” “How’re the knees?” He ignored the questions, smiled, waved and ducked inside.

  “Jesus, I’m not a fucking movie star. Does it never end,” he asked rhetorically, unzipping his leather jacket and shoving his hat and gloves into its pockets.

  “Not if you’re lucky,” Charles replied. He threw an arm over Drew’s shoulder, drawing him into the crowded restaurant. “Look, forget about the assholes outside. Let’s get a table and see if the food here is as good as it smells, because my nose says it’s got to be fuckin’ delicious.”

  Mike spotted them immediately. His smile and warm hug lifted Drew’s mood. Trust didn’t come easily to him, so he only let a few people into his life. Mike was one of them. “Thanks for showing. It means a lot,” he said, leading them to a table.

  “Any time,” Drew said, glancing around at the busy restaurant. “Go play host, we’ll catch up later.”

  Once the waiter placed their food on the table, Drew focused on his meal. Experience had taught him that if he had any chance of eating in peace, he had to keep his eyes on his plate or someone would try to catch his attention and wave or even stop by his table. Most often it was a woman, but he’d lost interest in those who treated him like the steak he was about to cut into, a piece of meat to devour and then brag about to their friends. He would never deny that he enjoyed the easy sex that came with fame, but lately he realized he wanted something more, not to just fuck women who’d become interchangeable. He was done acting like a jackass, but the more of a challenge he became, the more aggressive his pursuers behaved.

  One B or maybe C-list actress wandered over to his table, pressed her overinflated breasts against his shoulder and whispered an invitation in his ear. He politely, but firmly, declined the offer. She pouted at his rejection, but didn’t cause a scene and walked away. “Crap, don’t people have any respect for themselves anymore?”

  “Evidently not where you’re concerned,” said Charles. “It’s fun to watch, but it can be a bitch to deal with, or so you say.” He drained the rest of his wine and leaned toward Drew. “Maybe this book thing is a bad idea. I mean, it’s going to put you back in the spotlight’s glare and you’re giving every indication that you want to move past that part of your life. Am I right?”

  Drew didn’t respond right away. The crusty bread they’d eaten with dinner had left crumbs and Drew used one finger to push them into a pile on the pristine white tablecloth. “Honestly? I’m not sure. Part of me wants a new challenge and writing a book would definitely be that, but I’m not naïve. There’s a price to pay for being a public person. Up until recently, I’ve been able to limit most interviews to my sport and the modeling required by my endorsement contracts.”

  “You’d have less control over this and that’s a problem for you, right?” Charles might be Drew’s agent, but never forgot that he was also his friend. He loved the guy like a brother and knew that there were parts of his life that were better left hidden.

  Drew’s mouth tightened and he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip. The gesture said a lot and didn’t go unnoticed by Charles. “Damn right. This thing would be like a surgeon slitting me open to yank out my insides. My childhood and after…well, let’s say my life hasn’t always been pretty and I’ve made some bad choices that are better left undisturbed. Plus, I’d be kissing what little privacy I have good-bye.” He leaned his face on his hands and slowly moved his head from side to side. “Christ, I just don’t know. There are things…” He didn’t finish the thought and sighed.

  Alarms went off in Charles’ head. “Drew, I’ve known you for almost ten years. You’re my best friend and we’ve lived through a lot of shit. Are you saying I don’t really know you?“

  “Does anyone ever truly know someone?”

  “Now you’re a philosopher? If there are things you haven’t told me…”

  “Relax, dude. It’s nothing. Besides, I won’t make a decision until we talk to this editor and she gives me a better idea of how much of my guts have to be spilled.”

  “I get the feeling that nothing would make this woman happier than to eviscerate you and leave you with zero guts.” Charles laughed as if he was joking, but Drew understood his meaning.

  “As I said, we’ll see.” He pushed his plate away to signal the end of the meal and the conversation. Drew scanned the restaurant and spotted the usual “see and be seen” beautiful people who somehow found, and then congregated in, every hot spot around the globe. He’d been part of this fast-living group for more years than were healthy, but he’d walked away from it. Tonight, however, meaningless sex with a gorgeous woman who had no expectations beyond being fucked could be a good thing. The talk with Charles had brought up memories he’d rather keep buried and aside from a fast run down a steep, snowy mountain, the best place to lose himself was in a woman’s body. Yet one quick glance at those who would willingly fuck him standing up in a bathroom did nothing for his libido, so he left and went home alone.

  CHAPTER 6

  Charles thought about Kate Porter while he waited for Drew on the sidewalk outside Atlas Publishing’s Madison Avenue office building. He looked forward to seeing the very attractive editor again. Even if the deal for Drew’s book fell through, he planned to invite her out for a drink or dinner. She hadn’t given off any easy-to-read signs of attraction to him at their first meeting, but he hadn’t exactly turned on the charm either. Worst that could happen would be she’d refuse him.

  Drew pounded him on the back, interrupting his reverie. “My man! Are we ready for this?”

  “You’re especially up today,” Charles said, studying his friend and client. “If I didn’t know better, I’d guess you were on something.”

  “What? No! Never again.” Drew’s brows lowered into a scowl. “That was a one time thing I’d rather forget.”

  “And you’re high today because…” Charles probed.

  “A taxi stopped the minute I put my arm up, I slept for eight uninterrupted hours, they’re predicting a blizzard tonight, and I’m looking forward to meeting this ‘hot’ editor.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Charles’ smile showed his relief. He pounded Drew on the back and rested a hand on his leather-clad shoulder as they cleared security in the lobby and walked toward the elevators. “Just a warning, O’Connor. This is my hot editor. Besides, she’s not your type, so hands off.”

  “My type?”

  “Yeah. Model. Actress. Blondes with inflated tits, skinny bodies and legs up to their armpits.”

  “Doesn’t sound very appealing.”

  “Yet those are the women you’re always with, O’Connor. This one has dark hair, a shape, a brain and is average height. She’s mine.”

  “Shouldn’t that decision be the lady’s?”

  “Drew…” Charles
threatened.

  “Okay, okay. She’s all yours.”

  The elevator doors opened on the 45th floor. The receptionist’s eyes widened when she greeted them, but she quickly buzzed Kate’s office. Moments later, Theresa introduced herself and led them to a small conference room. “Ms. Porter apologizes for the delay. She’ll be with you in five minutes. While you wait, can I bring you some coffee, tea, water?”

  “Two waters would be fine. Thank you,” replied Charles. He knew that Drew only drank coffee in the morning and based on how his friend jumped out of the chair the moment they were alone, the last thing he needed was a hit of caffeine. “You’ve explained your good mood, but why so restless?”

  Drew’s earlier smile had disappeared. He turned away from Charles and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his black jeans. “This is a bad idea. I’m having second thoughts about stripping naked in front of the entire world. If it were just my body, fine, but you made this sound like it would involve my soul and that’s mine alone.”

  “This is far from a done deal. The editor has to pitch it to a committee and then the publisher may decide the idea is crap. Today’s meeting is only the first step in a longer process. Let’s wait to hear what Madam Editor has to say before you panic, okay?”

  Drew released a frustrated breath and slumped into a chair. “I can do that.” He raised a thumb to his mouth and began to gnaw on the nail.

  Theresa leaned her head into Kate’s office. “Your four o’clock is here. They’re in the small conference room.” She faced Kate and fanned her face with her hand. “I’m not a young woman, but I’m not too old to appreciate a handsome man and those two…wow!”

  Kate grinned at her assistant. “I don’t remember you having a hot flash over Charles Morrison when you met him last week.”

  “Maybe it’s the combination of the two of them that creates a testosterone overload. You’ll see,” Theresa said and turned to go back to her desk.

  Kate checked her appearance in the mirror behind her office’s door. She fluffed her hair then added a swipe of blush. When she slipped off the comfortable flats she wore at work and switched into heels, she told herself she was being ridiculous. This was a business meeting, nothing more, although she’d wondered about the identity of Charles’ client for days.

  She paused outside the conference room to take a deep breath, then strode confidently into the familiar space. Charles immediately rose to greet her. Another man stood at the window, his broad, leather-covered back to her. “Mr. Morrison, nice to see you again,” she said, extending her hand.

  He grasped it in both of his. “My pleasure. It’s Charles. Mr. Morrison is my father. Let me introduce you to my client, Andrew O’Connor.”

  Drew turned and Kate’s knees turned to jelly. She blinked a couple of times and thought she must be hallucinating. Yet this was Drew O’Connor walking toward her, a smile on his face. She automatically offered her hand to him and he enclosed it in his, but didn’t immediately release it. He lowered his gaze to their joined hands and seemed to have trouble forming words for a moment before he recovered. “Ms. Porter,” he said, politely.

  The inability to speak was contagious and it seemed to take forever for Kate to be able to form a response. “I believe we’ve already met, Mr. O’Connor. Have a seat, gentlemen.” Kate took her place at the head of the table with one man on each side and nervously shuffled the papers she’d brought with her. When she looked up, Charles seemed confused and Drew’s eyes had narrowed, his brow furrowed as if he were wracking his brain to come up with where they could have met. If they were to discuss the proposed book, she needed to put him out of his misery. She tilted her head, a half smile on her face as she met his blue-eyed gaze. “St. Patrick’s?”

  It took him only an instant to recognize the expressive, warm, chocolate brown eyes and full lips — without lipstick he noted again — that he hadn’t forgotten. But that day she’d been wrapped in a bulky winter coat and scarf, her hair in a ponytail. Now, faced with the entire package, she took his breath away. He unscrewed the cap on the water bottle and took a long drink.

  “Of course I remember you. You started to fall, I caught you and then you told me to get lost.” The roguish grin on his face softened his words.

  “I did not! I thanked you for helping me and we went our separate ways, that’s all. What did you expect?” She wanted to ask him why he’d been in church, but really, it was none of her business. When she realized he was speaking again, she abruptly looked up and met his heated gaze.

  “Expect? I don’t know, but it’s not like me to ride away from a beautiful woman without having the sense to at least get her number. Something about you shook me that day. It still does.” He looked toward the ceiling as if that would help him to figure out why he was exposing his uncensored thoughts to this obviously dangerous woman.

  Kate flushed, stunned that the man every woman in New York desired had just said she was beautiful and now, as she ordered herself to maintain a professional distance, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.

  Charles watched his chances with Kate Porter evaporate. Drew had won her without even trying. The air was charged with the intense attraction between them, so he knew that not only had he lost the woman, there was no chance in hell she’d be able to work with Drew professionally. The book deal was dead before it was even born. He pushed his chair back and stood. “If you two would like to be alone…”

  His words pulled Kate out of the temporary trance. “I’m sorry, Charles.” She nodded in the direction of his chair and he sat again. “You kept your client’s name a secret so it’s a surprise to find out who it is. You’ve probably figured out that we bumped into each other — literally — recently, but I didn’t recognize him then. I think he’ll agree that this might be a bit of a jolt for both of us.” She straightened her back, her posture becoming more formal. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s discuss why we’re here.” She turned toward Drew. “Why do you want to write your life story?”

  “You get right to the point, don’t you?”

  “She did that with me, too,” Charles commented.

  Kate glanced at him. “I find that’s the best way to get people to focus.”

  “All right,” Drew said slowly. He lifted his thumb toward his mouth, but quickly lowered it before it reached its destination. Stalling for time, he slid out of his leather jacket and straightened the fitted black cashmere sweater he’d worn under it for warmth. Kate and Charles watched him, each unsure of how he would answer the question.

  “My career as a competitive skier is over. I had a good run, but when you can’t be the best, it’s time to step aside and give others a chance to achieve their dreams.”

  “And was it your dream to be the best downhill skier in the world?” Kate wasn’t sure whether she was drawn to his story because it was good or because it was his.

  “Honestly? I don’t think it was a plan. I had a certain talent, it was recognized and nurtured and then it just happened.”

  His modesty was a surprise. She’d expected arrogance. “A lot has already been written about Drew O’Connor, the athlete and Drew O’Connor, the model and spokesman, and even Drew O’Connor the…and please excuse this old-fashioned term — Drew O’Connor the celebrity playboy.”

  Charles laughed. “Playboy. Sounds like you’ve got him pegged.”

  “Shut up, Charles,” Drew snarled.

  “Gentlemen, please.” Kate needed to regain control of the meeting. “As I started to say, a book that just rehashes what’s already known about you isn’t worth writing and no one would buy it. We’re in the business of selling books, so I need to know what more you would bring to an autobiography. Was there anything unusual about your childhood? Your parents? Siblings? School? Friends? Romances? That kind of thing. Who is the real Drew O’Connor and what makes him tick?”

  “Shit, Charles,” Drew said. “I don’t know if I can do this.” His heart was pounding as if he were at th
e top of a mountain, body curled into a racing tuck just before pushing off to fly downhill.

  “I’m sorry that I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Kate said. “I wouldn’t want the whole world to know everything about me either, but I’m not a celebrity. Unlike you, I didn’t seek fame or benefit from it financially. No one’s saying you have to do this, but you came here today so it’s safe to assume you’re interested.” She cocked her head to the side. “Have you figured out why you want to write your life story?”

  Drew glared at Charles. “It was his idea, not mine,” he said, sounding like a five-year-old. He released a breath. “Look, I’m tired of posing for cameras, I only ski for fun now, and the idea of shutting myself away somewhere with a laptop is very appealing. When you’ve been in the spotlight as long as I have, it’s hard to withdraw from it without rumors flying that you’re hiding something like you’re sick or in rehab. By working on a book, I’d have a perfect excuse to fade away for a while.”

  Kate recognized that he’d already revealed more about himself than he’d realized and she wanted to know more. She suspected that her curiosity was more personal than professional, but she really wanted him to agree to the project. “Okay, that’s a start. Can you write?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I can, but you’re the pro so that would be your call.”

  “The reason I asked is that this kind of book is most effective if it’s written in your own voice. It won’t come across as personal if you need a ghostwriter.” Kate leaned toward Drew. “I’ve dumped a lot on you today and you have to think about whether this is something that you not only can do, but want to do.”

 

‹ Prev