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

by Malone, Nana

  “It’s not for drugs. And I would pay you back. I swear. I’m in a tight jam.”

  “So you thought of me?”

  “Exactly. I’ve got some characters determined to get their money, and I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

  Some things never changed. “Izzy said no, huh?”

  She blinked several times. “What does she have to do with me coming to you?”

  “Just proud of her for telling you no.”

  Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Let’s leave Izzy out of this, shall we?”

  He stared at her. Sabrina had always been self-centered but he’d never thought her to be cruel and uncaring. Izzy raised her son as her own and all Sabrina could think about was herself.

  “So, Izzy said no, and now here you are.”

  She shrugged.

  “You need to be careful where you lay your head, Sabrina. Sleeping with dogs and all that. I’m not going to help you.”

  She surged to her feet. “What, why? You know I wouldn’t come to you unless it was important.”

  “You know why.”

  “Like hell I do. You owe me at least this.”

  “I don’t owe you a thing.”

  A malicious smile spread across Sabrina’s beautiful dark features. “I wonder how Izzy would feel if I told her about our last night together.”

  Jason felt the blood trickle and drain out of his face. “Too bad you can only play that card if she means something to me.”

  A smile, calculated and chilly, spread on over her lips. “Don’t be a fool, Jason. Izzy’s always been your Achilles heel.” She sidled up to him like a leach on the hunt for blood. “And from your guilty expressions last night, she still means something to you. It’s a no-brainer. I need a hundred grand. You give it to me, and I won’t ruin your chances of true bliss or whatever.”

  A bead of cold sweat burrowed between his shoulder blades. “A, I won’t give you a dime. B, you tell her about us, and I’ll make your life a living hell.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What the hell do you mean there’s nothing I can do? There has to be something.” Izzy stared at her lawyer, Bryce Jacobs, over the expansive oak desk, hoping if she stared long enough, different words would come out of his mouth.

  “I wish I could tell you different, Iz. But the ball is in her court. If she tries for custody, she’ll have to stay clean for more than six months, prove she’s capable of taking care of not only herself, but Nick. When was the last time Sabrina held down a job?” Disappointment etched on his face, he added, “I wish there was more I could do, but for now, we wait.”

  Izzy stood, her hands planted on Bryce’s desk for leverage. “So I’m just supposed to let her continue to disrupt our lives? I can’t live like this. We’ve got to have some kind of closure.” Biting on her thumb nail, she added, “Nick deserves it.”

  Bryce shook his head which dislodged a shock of prematurely gray hair into the center of his brow. “Just because you agreed to allow her to see Nick doesn’t mean she has to be in your house, you know.”

  Izzy knew. But knowing didn’t stop the guilt from washing over her every time she thought about kicking Sabrina out. She would never be able to explain to Nick. “I have to do the right thing for Nick.” Biting her lip to help force incumbent tears back, she added, “Am I a horrible person because I want her to fail? I want her to fall off the damned wagon. I want my son to myself.”

  Bryce sat on the corner of the table. He put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “No, you’re human. Look, no judge would give her custody right now given her extensive past. And while she still has a right to see him, we can fight to have that visitation monitored.”

  “This is my fault. All of it. Maybe I should have called child protective services all those years ago. Saved myself the pain.”

  He shook his head. “You never would have forgiven yourself. This is Sabrina. You’ll have to be patient. Soon enough she’ll fashion a noose out of the rope.”

  “In the meantime, I need to be on the lookout for anyone who looks shifty. If she invites that slime into our home—”

  He followed her lead toward the office door. “First things first. Anything out of the ordinary happens, you call the police immediately. You can’t do what you did the last time and square off with a drug dealer. Sometimes, I think you have a death wish.” He took her hand. “If you even suspect she’s using, get the police involved. It’ll go on the record.”

  His smooth manicured hand generated enough heat to chase off the chill in her bones. She nodded as she forced a brittle smile. “You’re right.” It was time to take control of her life.

  She let herself out into the hallway. One of her Ghana Homelands photos, “Village on Stilts,” greeted her. She knew the photo was there, but it didn’t stop the rush of surprise and pride every time she saw it.

  Izzy quirked an apologetic smile at Bryce’s assistant Lydia. Lydia had a penchant for trashy gossip mags. Izzy felt bad she hadn’t thought to stop by the newspaper stand downstairs before coming in. “Sorry, Lydia. No Us Weekly for you today. I forgot to stop.”

  Lydia’s thin lips curled into a tilted uplift of a smile. “Not a problem. I have the TMZ RSS feed.”

  Desperate for something to lift her mood, Izzy sidled up to the desk and selected two Hershey’s Kisses from the candy bowl. She was very proud of herself that she knew both what TMZ and an RSS feed were. “C’mon, let’s have it, what gorgeous Hollywood hunk is coming out as gay? Inquiring minds and all that.”

  Lydia tapped to the next page. “Nothing that good this week. Although—” Wide blue eyes twinkled with excitement. “That gorgeous tennis guy, Jason Whathisname? He’s already dropped Cienna for a new chick. Some brunette.” She sighed wistfully and added, “I so totally would.”

  Izzy stopped mid-chew. The melted chocolate acted more as a throat irritant, than nectar of the Gods. For the briefest of instants, Izzy wondered if someone had taken a photo of them together leaving his house. You’re black, princess, not brunette. She reminded herself. For an instant, her heart did a panicked flutter in her chest as she considered someone might have a photo from their hot and heavy session in the studio.

  Izzy hoped she didn’t sound too curious with her next question. “Another star I suppose?”

  Lydia shook her head. “You can’t see her face in this picture. Only the back of her dress. But they’re kissing for sure.” She turned the monitor so Izzy could look for herself.

  The brunette’s head slightly obscured Jason’s face in the photo, but the height was right and the house was unmistakable. Unfortunately, so was her white linen dress.

  Sabrina.

  ****

  Jason couldn’t remember the last time nerves had tickled his spine. “You have no reason to be nervous you idiot,” he mumbled to himself as he walked through the Z Con studio reception area.

  Jessica, now blue-haired, flashed him a broad smile. The serene lilt of her lips reminded him of a Cheshire cat.

  “Hi, Jessica. She in?”

  “Izzy?” she asked, as she played with her pen and batted her lashes. He nodded, and she winked at him. “She’s in the studio to your right.”

  Not sure what he was supposed to do about the wink, he gave her a wan smile. “Er, thanks.” As he walked down the hall to the studio, he was sure he could feel her gaze on his butt. But he’d be damned if he’d turn around to look.

  The jazzy sounds of Nina Simone met him before he stepped into the studio. Izzy bent over a table afforded him a spectacular view of lush curves wrapped in snug fitted jeans. If he kept looking, he’d be tempted to touch. No doubt, Izzy wouldn’t want to give Jessica that kind of show.

  He cleared his throat, but she didn’t turn around. “Izzy?”

  He moved behind her, but she still didn’t turn until he brushed her exposed neck with his fingertips. In a swift move, she grabbed his wrist and whirled on him, fist at the ready.

  Ducking out of the way and securing her fist be
hind her back, he blew out several harsh breaths. “Shit, Izzy.”

  Eyes wide with alarm and surprise, she stammered an apology. “Oh, God, sorry. I didn’t expect, I mean, God, I’m sorry.” In another swift movement, she released herself and took a step back.

  He opened his hands palm out to give her some space. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

  “Crap, I said sorry.” She pulled up a stool for him. “I didn’t expect you to—well anyone, actually, to come up and touch my neck. It was reflex.”

  With her hair down and the sun streaming in to kiss the light brown highlights, a soft halo formed around her hair. A memory flashed—Izzy’s lips, her firm body pliant against his. Those sexy mewling sounds she made when aroused.

  Mouth dry, he cleared his throat in an attempt to get some moisture. “Some reflex.”

  Her smile went thin as she used a remote control to turn down the music. “Well, you shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

  He laughed. “What? I called your name several times. You had your focus on your own world.”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, well, when I’m working, I get a little absorbed. The loud music helps me concentrate.”

  “I notice you still listen to Nina Simone when you want some focus.”

  “You remembered that? It was so long ago.”

  Of course he remembered. Izzy in focus mode was just about the sexiest sight he’d ever seen. She could literally block out the world and devote undivided attention to the task at hand. It was surreal. “Of course I remember. I got you her greatest hits when you won the conference title that year.”

  “Oh yeah. I remember now. Not much really changes, I guess.”

  There was a hint of sadness in her voice he couldn’t place. He hadn’t prepared for awkward. On his way over, he prepped his heart and body to deal with any of her reactions to Saturday night. Unfortunately, awkwardness didn’t make the list. They hadn’t had much chance to talk after he’d taken Nick home. Maybe he should have called before coming over, but he’d wanted to surprise her.

  Walking over to the table, he noticed the photo she laid the matte for. An African man, years of wisdom in his crinkled eyes, stared back at him. It was the same photo he’d bid on at an auction, but lost.

  The photo that spoke to him. Even though the man in the photo was near the end of his life, his eyes still held secrets. As if there was part of him he kept hidden.

  “You know I bid on this photo in an auction about a year ago, I didn’t get it. When can I get a crack at those Masai prints?”

  She looked up, brows furrowed and eyes wide. “Shit, I forgot. I’ll sort that out sometime this week.”

  “At the time, I didn’t know it was your work. But it spoke to me. I tried everything I could, but I still lost the damned auction.”

  A nervous tongue peaked out of her lips. Mesmerized, he watched as it tracked moisture over her lips. She parted her lips as if to speak, but then she pressed them back together.

  Unable to resist, he brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder and rubbed it between his fingers. Feeling like a teenager asking for his first date, he smiled nervously. “So, we didn’t have a chance to get dinner on Saturday. I thought I’d make that up to you tonight if you’re free.”

  She took a step back, literally, if not figuratively, putting some distance between them. “I don’t think so Jason.”

  Had he done something wrong? He stepped back and put his hands in his pockets. “Is there a reason why not?” This wasn’t the way it had gone in his head.

  She shifted from one foot to the other and moved to the small desk in the corner. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. What we had—” She waved her hands. “Or didn’t have for that matter, was a long time ago. There’s no need to go there again.”

  He clamped his jaw shut against his annoyance.

  “Okay, I, uh, I guess I’ll get out of your hair then.” Confused, and not sure where he’d gone wrong, he headed toward the door.

  Her soft voice stopped him before he could reach the studio door. “Were you going to tell me that you saw her?”

  Shit. A tingling of awareness pricked his skin. Sabrina. He lowered his voice a pitch. “She came by, Izzy. All on her own.”

  She lifted her head to glare at him as she swiped a lock of her thick full hair out of her face. “It’s none of my business what you do with your personal life, Jason. But I’m not stupid. I’m not a seventeen-year-old kid throwing myself at you anymore.”

  He furrowed his brow. When the hell had he fallen through the rabbit hole? With every racing beat of his pulse, he told himself to relax. “What are you talking about?”

  At the table, she tapped a few keys of a keyboard. As if by magic, an image of his front door appeared on the screen. She turned back to her matting table without a word.

  He looked at the screen and cringed. He didn’t need to get any closer to know what the photo looked like. There, in all their splashy glory, were he and Sabrina in what looked like an embrace. Damn it. To make matters worse, the headline read Bad Boy Dishes It Up With Sexy Brunette.

  “Izzy,” he implored. “I know how this looks, but it’s not like that.”

  She sighed and looked up from her board. “You’re right.”

  He filled his lungs with the sweet air of relief. She wasn’t going to overreact. She understood how the paparazzi could manipulate photos. Though, as he further searched her face, he held onto the deep breath as if it would be his last.

  “I know how it sounds. But it honestly doesn’t concern me. It’s none of my business.”

  He took two halting steps over to her matting board. “Do you think I’d be with Sabrina? And to add insult to injury, come here, ask you out? That doesn’t make any sense, Izzy.”

  She hesitated, and then straightened her back. “It didn’t make any sense then either. Did it? I’m not interested in playing games, Jason.”

  He stood directly in front of her until she had no choice but to look him in the eye. “I’m not playing games with you. I came here today because I wanted to see you. End of story. I felt something.”

  She scoffed. “Of course you felt something the other night, you wanted to get laid.”

  The surge of anger crashed through his veins, but he reigned in his temper as best he could. She’d always been able to rile him. “Oh, it would have been nice to get laid, but I’m way beyond the age of trying to play games to get some.” Because she forced his emotions to churn, he added, “And sweetheart, let’s not get it twisted, you were the one all over me all those years ago.”

  She reeled back as if he’d slapped her, and he wished he could take back the harsh words. But they were already out. Fuck. How the hell had they gotten into a fight? “Look, she came over to ask for money. She’s in some kind of trouble.”

  Eyes wide, she blinked at him. “Did you give it to her?”

  “Are you kidding? Whatever trouble she’s in, Sabrina will have to get out of it on her own.”

  Izzy sat down looking at her hands. “Did she look like she was using again?”

  “I don’t think so, but I don’t know. She said she needed it to make amends or whatever.” He shook his head. “She’s a piece of work.”

  Izzy’s shoulders slouched. “I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different.”

  “I didn’t give her anything. She knew the cameras were there. She played you all over again.”

  She squared her shoulders. “And you’re not?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Izzy slammed her phone down at Simon’s tenth text of the day. She would have to deal with him, tell him once and for all they weren’t going to be together.

  After a few kisses from Jason, she knew to her core, she couldn’t fake it. Since the night in her studio with Jason, she planned to get it over with, but with Sabrina and Jason, and lawyers and the gallery opening, she couldn’t focus.

  As the sounds of Sean Paul blared from the radio, as she danced around her
room sorting laundry and let the sounds of dancehall soothe her soul.

  She couldn’t postpone the inevitable.

  Jessica sat cross-legged on the bed going over final details of the gallery night. “The timeline is almost set. Press is scheduled to arrive at seven, but I promise they’ll be a little late.”

  While Sean Paul prompted her to “Shake that ting ting” Izzy tossed the pile of darks into the hamper and searched under the bed for her dark jeans. “Okay, so I’ll want to arrive about a half hour later. Do the interviews I need to, then make myself scarce.”

  Jessica’s expression softened. “You don’t need to do that anymore, Iz. No one cares about the past.”

  “Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong, but all it takes is one reporter to dig around about my past. Maybe they don’t care anymore, but I don’t want to take that chance.”

  Jessica chewed her bottom lip. “Look, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I came on long after it all went down. I don’t even think I have the whole story.”

  Izzy turned down the radio and eased herself onto the bed. “I guess it doesn’t make a difference now. My sophomore year, I was in the semi’s for the NCAA Singles Championship. Between finals and classes and applications for every internship under the sun, I was under a ton of pressure. Got run down and contracted Mono.”

  “Damn.”

  “Well, anyway, I considered dropping out to let the wildcard take my spot. I was in no condition to play. My dad was there, like he was for every other match I’ve ever played, and came back to the holding pen to give me the failure isn’t an option speech.” Izzy puffed in a breath. “We got into a huge fight with him insisting no daughter of his was going to quit.”

  “Shit, how’s that for supportive?”

  “Tell me about it. Anyway, I went out on the court and played the worst set I’ve ever played. Part of me knows I was sick, but the other part of me knows I did it out of childish spite. Anyway, Dad screamed at me from the stands. Every time I missed a serve or faulted.”