Game, Set, Match (A Humorous Contemporary Romance) (Love Match)

by Malone, Nana

  “I need access to my trust fund now. How the hell am I supposed to live without any money for two years?”

  Her ears strained and her heart raced as she heard footsteps approach the door. She whipped away from the doorway, flattening her back against the hallway like a cockroach in daylight. As the footsteps faded, she let out a breath. Decency and politeness should have her off to work, but ever since Jessica had told her to find her inner bad girl, she couldn’t seem to find a decent bone in her body. She leaned closer to the door, careful not to jangle her keys.

  “Look, I’m supposed to have that money within six months of leaving rehab, as long as I’m clean. I’ve been out for four already.” She paused. “I don’t give a shit what my mother wants. She has no right. There has to be something you can do.”

  The tone and volume of the last comment made Izzy jump. But she didn’t move out of earshot.

  Sabrina’s voice took on a hint of desperation. “Okay, look. Maybe I can borrow against it. I have some personal debts to pay off, and they won’t be willing to wait two years for payment.” There was a beat of silence, then she added. “Look, these are not the kind of guys that will accept a bank transfer. I need to deliver the money in cash.”

  Izzy knew when she’d heard enough. As she shuffled down the hallway toward the kitchen, she wondered why she always got her hopes up that Sabrina was clean and out of her old life. Some things never changed.

  Finally in the sanctuary of her studio, she turned on some Nina Simone to match her morose mood and settled in for a long morning of reviewing proofs of Jason. If anything could temporarily take Sabrina off her mind, it had to be Jason.

  She always preferred to compile an absolute yes list of images she couldn’t live without, before she compiled a list of maybes. Her only problem was, with this subject, she had a mountainous list of absolute yeses and hardly any maybes or nos.

  Even the flat two-dimensional photos of Jason caused her blood to stir. She picked up the negative sheet containing the vulnerable photo he’d admired the night before. Immediately, images flashed though her mind of Jason picking her up, anchoring her against the wall.

  No matter how many cold showers she took, or how many cups of coffee she drank to clear her head, she could not erase the branding scorches of his hands from her body. Heat flooded her core in preparation. Izzy groaned as she tried to refocus her attention on the comp sheets. What a hell of a time to get a libido.

  She needed a chocolate chip cookie. She cast a glance at the window to the backyard as she wondered if she could make it into the house unseen and unheard to grab a cookie. I’m an idiot for avoiding my own house. As she whittled down her selection of keepers, Izzy realized she needn’t avoid the house. Trouble would always come to her.

  Down the hall, she heard the sounds of Jessica singing along to Nina’s bluesy tones. But the singing abruptly stopped, followed by a battle of wills. Jessica’s snotty voice was Izzy’s thirty second warning. “Do you have an appointment? She’s very busy.” While Jessica was occasionally snotty to Simon, she’d never been outright rude, and her tone at the moment bordered on bitchy.

  Of course, Sabrina being Sabrina, she didn’t heed Jessica’s testaments and barged right in. Jessica, hot on Sabrina’s Prada-covered heels, followed, protesting every step of the way. “Izzy, I’m sorry, if you want me to call the police, I can.”

  The corners of Izzy’s lips threatened to curl, but she kept them under control. She wasn’t kidding about the cops. They’d been called in before when a patron had refused to pay for her portrait session. Jessica didn’t play. And she had always loathed Sabrina.

  “It’s all right, Jess. I can handle it.”

  Jessica looked mutinous and glared at Sabrina, but she turned to leave. “Yeah, all right. But just holler if you want me to call them.”

  Izzy made a mental note to give Jessica a raise if she sold a few photos at the gallery opening. She didn’t bother to halt her selection process of photos she worked on. “What do you want, Sabrina?”

  “Gosh what a frosty welcome.” She cast a narrow-eyed glance in Jessica’s direction. “When are you going to get a presentable secretary, Iz?”

  Izzy glanced up and wondered what kind of gilded, delusional world Sabrina lived in. “She’s a friend. She’s also good at her job.”

  Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Oh right, but come on, the way she looks? Please, I’m surprised she doesn’t scare off your clientele.”

  Izzy felt the familiar throbbing in her clenched fists and forced her fingers to release and relax. “She’s an asset. Any client who disapproves, I can go without their money.”

  Sabrina glanced toward the door again. “Would she really call the police?”

  “Yup. She would.” Izzy wanted Sabrina out. If she looked at her too long, she was likely to say some things Nick might regret.

  Sabrina shifted her weight. “Look, I know I’m a disruption to your life and everything.”

  “Do you really? Did you give any thought about what your visit would do to Nick?”

  All traces of the initial bravado swinging Sabrina vanished, and she sat down nervously on the stool across from Izzy. “I’m here because of Nick.”

  Izzy couldn’t hide the shaking contact sheet in her right hand. It took her several moments to realize her hands were behind the shaking.

  “What about Nick, Sabrina?”

  With a deep breath, Sabrina swiveled around in the stool. “I know the past several years have been rough. And it’s been my fault.”

  Yeah right. As Sabrina rattled off what sounded shockingly like an apology, Izzy wondered how much of this conversation tied into the earlier one she’d overheard? Last time she’d been clean for four months before her inevitable descent. Izzy’d heard it all before. This was the amends part of Sabrina’s recovery. Damn, do I look like a father confessor?

  “Izzy, I’ve done unspeakable things to you, to Nick. Over the last several months, I’ve been taking stock of the right thing to do.”

  Izzy stood, attempting to stretch out the crick in her neck. Too tired to reign in her temper, she said, “I’m sorry, Sabrina. But what’s different this time? I’ve heard all of this before.” Not to mention she knew what Sabrina was really doing home.

  “Izzy, I know I shouldn’t ask you for anything.”

  “You’re right. I’ve given you enough. You’re a taker. And if it suits you, you ask for forgiveness later.”

  Sabrina’s face fell. Softly, she said, “I’m not all bad.”

  Izzy said nothing, waited for the impending demand.

  “Okay, I admit, I do need your help.”

  Of course you do. Whenever Sabrina needed something, it was something she couldn’t get for herself. Given how resourceful Sabrina was, the favor must be a doozy. Izzy did her best to stop the tingling sense of dread climbing her spine. “What’s so bad you’d come back after last time?”

  Sabrina cringed. “Look. I know after what I did, I had no right to say those—unspeakable things to you.”

  Izzy set her hands on her hips. “You mean the statement you made about a second rate mammie not being able to raise your son, as the cops carted you away? Save your apologies for someone who gives a shit.”

  A deep blush climbed up Sabina’s neck and cheeks as she stood to clasp her hands around Izzy’s. “I was high, Iz. I didn’t mean it. You’ve been the closest friend I’ve had in years.”

  Staring down at the pale manicured hands that gripped her chocolate ones, anger and resentment washed over her as it threatened to snap her thinning hold on her temper. “If that’s how you treat your friends, God help your enemies.”

  Sabrina sighed as she released Izzy. “Look, I’m serious about my recovery this time. I’m lucky I didn’t end up in prison. I’m lucky Nick isn’t in some shithole foster home.”

  “Serious this time, are you? You plan on saying sorry to your piece of shit dealer after you stole from him? I doubt he’ll accept the apology if you c
an’t pay him.”

  Sabrina had the wherewithal to appear ashamed. “I’ll make good on my debts and keep you out of it.”

  Izzy couldn’t help the sneer. “I thought one of the conditions of you going to the treatment center instead of jail was no contact with your former life?”

  “It is. And I intend to keep my end of the bargain. I’m clean now. I swear to you, I’ll do whatever I can to stay that way.” Sabrina took a breath. “I just need you to do one thing for me.”

  What did she need, a kidney from Nick or something? Izzy didn’t have any money. “Jesus, what is it?”

  “Would you consider sharing some of the responsibility of raising Nick. Like maybe joint-custody or something?” Sabrina looked around as if expecting to see someone around the corner.

  A sudden pain behind Izzy’s eyes threatened to blind her. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go. Sabrina was supposed to ask for money, and Izzy was supposed to refuse it. This wasn’t in the script. “Over your dead body.”

  Sabrina took an uncertain step back but leveled her jade green eyes. “He’s my son.”

  “Why would you want partial custody now? You’ve never shown any interest in raising him before.” Izzy forced out the words as she fought for breath. Her brain worked overtime to try and figure out Sabrina’s angle.

  “I need him. He’ll remind me of why I need to stay clean. He needs me too. He needs his mother.”

  “You say this to the woman who raised him when you were too high to do so?”

  Sabrina slammed a hand over her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant we need to get to know each other.”

  Izzy didn’t possess mass quantities of the idiot gene, no matter what Sabrina thought. “You want me to give an addict custody of my son? I must really look stupid to you. The ans—”

  The desperation in Sabrina’s eyes stopped her mid-tirade and made her switch angles. “Look, we both know you don’t want custody. So why don’t you tell me why you’re really here. This has nothing to do with you wanting some involvement in Nick’s life. Do you need money or something?” When she saw Sabrina’s fleeting look of guilt, Izzy slammed her hands down on the work table. “You’re unbelievable. Get the fuck out. Nick doesn’t even have any money.”

  Except in his trust fund. Nick’s grandfather had begrudgingly set up a meager trust fund for him when he’d been born. They hadn’t approved of their daughter or their grandson. They’d never wanted custody of him or even offered to see him.

  Given the Reems family had a history of addiction, Nick couldn’t access the trust till he turned twenty-five. Izzy didn’t even know how much was in it. Only family could act as executors of the will—only family with custody. Truth dawned on Izzy with the force of a semi truck. If Sabrina couldn’t get access to her own trust fund, she could access Nick’s if she had custody. Who the hell stole money from a child?

  Sabrina’s mouth fell open, and her eyes welled with tears. “You think I could be so evil and unscrupulous. I’m not malicious, Izzy. I really do want to get to know Nick. I’m only trying to help out.”

  “You’re a piece of work. Get. The. Hell. Out.”

  She hadn’t meant to yell, but her raised voice brought Jessica running, blue hair flying. Izzy waved Sabrina out. “Get out.”

  For the first time, Sabrina’s eyes held a note of defeat. “Izzy, don’t do this. I want to help. You’ve got a great career lined up. I have nothing. I need him.”

  “My well rounded ass you want to help. You want access to his trust. I’m not the same little girl you can manipulate. I fight back.”

  Sabrina worked her bottom lip, brows drawn together. “Izzy—”

  So angry, she couldn’t control it, Izzy blurted, “Don’t you dare, you stupid cow. Get the hell out of my studio!”

  She knew she had to get fresh air before she lost it. She ran out of the studio, past Jessica and into the backyard. Oh God, not again. She couldn’t let the panic take over. She would not lose control.

  ****

  Jason dove for the ringing phone. His knee felt better, and he couldn’t resist the urge to test it at any given opportunity. It hadn’t even been sore after his one on one session with Nick.

  “Yeah, hello.”

  “Mr. Cartwright, do you care to comment on Art Michaels’ accusations that your career is over and you’re running a smoke and mirrors game on the public?”

  How the hell had they gotten this number? He hung up without a word. Once he heard the dial tone, he hit speed dial number two. Not bothering with a greeting to Aaron, Jason said without preamble, “I’m going to need a new number.”

  “Hello to you too. The hounds of hell get a hold of your number again?”

  Contrite, he said, “Hello, Aaron. Yes, the hounds got a hold of the new number. I swear we’ve got a leak.”

  “Unfortunately, we can’t really do anything about it. All we can do is limit the number of people with your personal information. Just be grateful it’s not your cell phone. I’ll have the number changed today.”

  “Thanks.”

  Aaron paused for several beats. “How you holding up?”

  Jason shrugged, forgetting Aaron couldn’t see him. “Okay, I guess. The calls are a pain in the ass, but the worst is the paparazzi camped out in front of my house.”

  “Have their asses arrested.”

  “I wish. They’re camped in a row across the street. And I don’t technically live in the gated section of Malibu. They still have a clear shot to my front door. They can see me coming and going. It’s not ideal.”

  “Well as long as you stay put, they won’t catch you doing anything.”

  Annoyed, Jason rubbed his shoulder. “Well, I don’t really have much choice but to stay put if I don’t want unnecessary attention. Since Michaels’ statement, all the speculators are running around like teenaged boys with their dicks cut off.”

  “Like yesterday’s news, no one will think about it tomorrow. He can’t say anything negative about you. He values his ass too much. He may be pissed he’s not your trainer anymore, but he won’t perjure himself. So all he can do is insinuate. We could go after him if you want.”

  Jason sighed and willed away the tension in his shoulders. He wouldn’t expose Michaels yet. “It’s not worth it. Good thing I don’t give a shit about my rep, otherwise this would kill my chances with the ladies.”

  Aaron laughed a mirthless laugh. “If only women were your problem. Give me a client with woman troubles any day.”

  Jason heard the knock at his door and contemplated not answering. But he expected the door to door mechanic about Izzy’s car, so he went to answer. The slender brunette with the wide aviator glasses was the last person he’d anticipated or wanted to see.

  “Aaron, let me call you back.”

  “Hi, Jason.” She removed her sunglasses and adjusted her purse in movements no doubt meant to entice.

  “Fancy seeing you here, Sabrina. You’ve given up tormenting Izzy and the kid?”

  Delicate almond eyes blinked up at him. She smiled a brilliant smile meant to put him at ease. “It’s nice to see you again, Jason.”

  When he didn’t respond or let her by, she reached up and wrapped cloying arms around his neck in a hug. He wanted to leave Sabrina where she stood on the porch, but knew it wasn’t prudent, considering the paparazzi. He stood aside.

  She coolly walked by him as if she belonged there, making sure to brush up against him on her way in. She sauntered through the foyer in a white linen dress like she owned the place. As always, she looked like sin with mischief in her eyes and a promise on her lips. “You know, Jason. I get the impression you don’t want me around?”

  He gave her a mock innocent look. “I don’t know where you got that from.”

  “Are you going to offer me a drink?”

  “What would be the point? You’re not staying.” With tilted head and narrowed eyes, he added, “Besides, I thought you were clean and s
ober now?”

  “I am clean and sober, thank you. Doesn’t mean a girl can’t do with a glass of water.” She made her way to the window. “God, you’ve got a fantastic view of the beach.”

  “We both know you’re not here for the small talk or a glass of water, so what are you doing here? You didn’t come all the way from Pasadena to shoot the shit.”

  She gave him her best ‘Oh just amuse me’ look. “I swear, you act as if I can’t drop in on a friend. Maybe I just wanted to see your pad.”

  “Just like you dropped in to see your kid?”

  For a split second, he swore he saw genuine pain in her eyes. “What the hell do you know about my kid?”

  “Not much. Except he’s a great kid, and he turned out that way through no effort of yours.”

  “Maybe that’s what he needed.”

  Not sure what she meant, Jason dropped the subject. “What do you want?”

  She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry I interrupted you and Izzy last night.” A cat-like malice in her eyes belied her next statement. “I think you two would make such a great couple.”

  “That would be a first. Didn’t you do everything you could to make sure we didn’t go anywhere near each other?”

  “See it how you like.”

  Jason laughed. “You’re a piece of work, lady.”

  “So are you. Let’s not forget that.”

  “Yeah well, we all have to grow up sometime.”

  She sidled up to him. “Is that what you’ve done? Grown up?”

  He removed her arms from around his waist. She’d always been able to elicit an instant sexual response from him. Not anymore. “That won’t work anymore, Sabrina. I’m tired. You can either tell me what you’re doing here, or you can get out. Your choice.”

  She mastered an insulted pout. “Okay, fine. I came to you because I need help.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no surprise there.”

  “I need to borrow some money.”

  “That’s a joke, right? First, you said borrow, implying your intent to pay it back.” He continued, “Next, you forget you’re an addict. Never give an addict money.”