by Ali Parker
“Thanks for doing this,” I said.
She nodded. “I should come more often.”
“You’re busy.”
“I should still come more often.”
I shrugged. “You don’t owe us anything.”
“No. But I love you all. So I should bring more of my business here. Anything to help, you know?”
I watched her smear her scone with butter before plunging it into her soup. I sighed. “I wish I could eat like you and keep your figure.”
“It all goes to my ass and tits.”
“Yeah. Exactly.” I giggled.
“Shut up, Piper. I’d kill for your body. Every girl would.”
I waved her off before peering down the hallway toward the kitchen and breakroom. When I concluded that we were perfectly alone and there was no risk of being overheard, I leaned toward her and rested my elbows on the table. “I need to talk to you about this Casanova thing.”
Janie groaned, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Please, hear me out. I just need you to try. That’s all I’m asking. That you’ll try to get me in, Janie.”
She stared at me. Her expression was unreadable until her shoulders slumped and she scowled into her soup. “Okay. Fine. I’ll try. Don’t get your hopes up though. I don’t need to tell you how unlikely this is.”
I clapped my hands together. “Thank you. Seriously. I appreciate it.”
“You better.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “So, who are the dudes?”
Janie shook her head and laughed at me before slurping butternut squash soup off her spoon. “You are too much, Piper. You know that?
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”
“Of course I do. But I need to ask you something, and this is something they ask all the girls at the Casanova Club.”
“Shoot.”
“What happens if you fall in love with one of them?”
“I won’t. I want the money. I want to help my family and—”
“Yes. I know, but what if?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek as I thought about what she was asking me. “What if the whole thing actually worked?”
Janie nodded.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. I hadn’t really thought about that side of the coin. But it didn’t really matter. I was good at making sacrifices. No matter what, my family needed help, and I would do whatever it took to get them that help. I was about to tell Janie that when the bell above the door chimed and a young couple strode in.
They both stopped. The young woman, a beautiful girl with long strawberry-blonde hair, looked around and said quietly, “It’s actually really cute in here. But are they open?”
I shot up from my chair with a smile plastered on my face. “Yes. Hi. We’re open. Would you like a booth by the window or one of the tables?”
The couple exchanged a glance, and then they both said, “Window.”
I heard my parents coming down the hall, drawn to the jingle of the bell like moths to a flame.
Chapter 5
Easton
Ben Hill Griffin Stadium was my favorite place in Florida, especially at four in the morning in the middle of December. The field was all mine. There wasn’t a soul in sight besides me. The bleachers stretched upward to the open sky, and the empty seats reminded me of a ghost town. The energy of the fans still sat within those places, and their cheers echoed in my head, driving me to push harder.
I lifted my knees as I wove through the tires to hone my agility. The yard lines on the field passed underfoot, and I didn’t stop until I was dead tired and nearly fully spent. The cries of the crowd still lingered in my mind as I tipped my head back to the open stadium roof.
The stars dotted the sky like pinholes in a navy-blue canvas. Within the next two hours, dawn would break, and that dark blanket would turn gray, and the stars would disappear. And so would I.
I had things to see to in New York City.
The turf was damp. It had soaked through my uniform within the first half hour of my training session, but I didn’t give a damn. I worked hard, and then harder, until my quads and calves screamed for rest. After running suicides up and down the field, my chest was about to burst. I slowed to a jog and then a walk and paced back and forth until my heart rate evened out.
“Easton,” a deep voice rolled out across the turf.
I lifted my head to the side of the field where my coach was standing. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but he had a smug look on his face. I walked over and grabbed my water from the bench. I drained half the bottle and wiped some of the runoff from my chin. “Coach.”
“Jerry told me you’re leaving town today.”
“Yeah. I leave in a few hours. I wanted to get in a good training session first.”
Coach Johnson stroked his sharp jaw. “I thought you decided you weren’t going to have any part of that horse shit in New York.”
“Things changed.”
“Things like what?”
I shrugged. “Jerry thought it was a good idea. I have to think ahead of the ball, Coach. I’m not going to be able to keep this up forever. Then what? When there’s no game left for me, what will I do?”
Coach Johnson prickled under my questions. “You carry on with your life like a normal person. You open a gym. Or design a bootcamp routine you can sell. Hell, have your own reality show for all I care. You’re already set up for success. The whole country knows the face of the star quarterback, Easton. You don’t need to be set up with some woman who probably has all her lines handed to her and is being followed around by someone who fixes her makeup every time she blinks. That’s not real life.”
“It’s not a TV show,” I said.
“You think that will make it more honest?”
Coach Johnson was a wise man. Always had been. He was also completely incapable of keeping his opinion to himself. I was already in this. There was no backing out of the Casanova Club now. That meant there was also no sense in listening to Coach trying to talk me out of it. “It’ll be good PR at the very least.”
He shook his head. “You sound like Jerry.”
I grinned. “Good. That fucker makes me a lot of money.”
Coach Johnson rolled his eyes. “I seem to recall you saying not even two months ago that you didn’t have time for a woman.”
“I don’t.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I get to spend my holidays surrounded by beautiful women. I’m taking it day by day, Coach. Everything will work out. You’ll have your star quarterback for the season.”
“I hope you’re right.”
The sky was brightening faster than I expected. It must have been later than I thought. “I have to get home and shower before I head to the airport. I’ll see you when I see you, Coach.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Easton,” Coach Johnson called after me as I set off toward the locker room.
“No promises, Coach,” I said as I flashed him a wicked grin.
I got out to my truck in the parking lot and drove home. After a workout as intense as the one I’d put myself through this morning, I had to drive with the windows open. Sweat slicked every inch of my skin, and I felt like I was cooking in the hot sun.
When I got back to my house, I went straight for the shower. I cranked the cold water and stood beneath it for a few minutes. The sensation of cool water beating down on my shoulders was refreshing and much needed. My muscles ached in that glorious way they did only after a killer workout. Blood pumped through my veins, and I felt incredibly alive.
And horny.
I needed to get it out of my system before I headed out to New York City. I’d likely be sitting back in that damn conference room for hours, going through more files from the women who wanted to be part of the vetting process. I’d grown bored of it already.
Staring at a photograph of a woman told me nothing. Sure, I could pin down that she had a nice smile and pretty eyes, but that
shit meant nothing to me in a picture. I wanted to see her in person. I wanted to hear her voice.
Jackson had assured me that we would have the chance to meet the final ten women before we narrowed it down to the one. That excited me a little bit. Curiosity had me wondering who these women would be. Would I have the upper hand over the other men simply because of my infamous name and trademark spiral? It would mean something to at least one of them. American-grown girls had an appreciation for the sport, and I didn’t doubt that several of them would have been cheerleaders in their youths.
Things like the Casanova Club attracted women of that sort.
I wasn’t complaining. I had a soft spot for cheerleaders. Pigtails, short skirts, knee-high socks, and flexibility that could make any man’s cock hard in seconds.
Yes. A cheerleader or two would be nice.
I leaned against the wall in my shower as blood rushed to my cock. I gripped my shaft and worked myself over, standing off to the side of the stream of water and closing my eyes to envision the woman of my dreams waiting for me at the end of all this.
Blonde. Beautiful. A bit sassy. Smarter than me and not afraid to remind me of it. A big ass she can barely get into her jeans. Dimples. Freckles.
Yeah. The good shit.
* * *
Jerry picked me up at eight in the morning to take me to the airport. My agent was always in a good mood first thing in the morning. I slid into the passenger seat after throwing my bag in the back, and he greeted me with a big smile as he pushed his sunglasses up on his forehead.
“Morning, East,” he said. Jerry was the only person who could get away with shortening my name. He’d done it when we first decided to work together, and for some reason, it didn’t grind my gears. He was an energetic prick at the best of times, but we clicked. He’d made me a shit-ton of money over the years, and I’d returned the favor.
“Morning,” I said. “I could have driven myself, you know?”
“Yeah, right. You would have driven the other way.”
I chuckled. “I’ve accepted my fate, Jerry.”
“How was practice this morning?” he asked as he slid his sunglasses back on and pulled away from the curb. Gold bracelets and a fancy watch on his wrist caught the sun and sent shards of light onto the ceiling of his Range Rover.
“It was all right. Coach Johnson showed up and gave me shit about this whole thing.”
Jerry shrugged. “He’s old. He doesn’t understand it. That’s all.”
“He should trust that I know what I’m doing.”
“It’s his job to coach you, East. On and off the field. He can’t turn it off. Just grin and bear his shit. He knows what he’s doing. And so do I. We won’t steer you wrong.”
“So, you still think this is a good idea then?”
Jerry glanced over at me. His blond hair was slicked back with half a pound of hair gel. “Why?”
“Just curious,” I said.
“You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Good. And yes. I still think it’s a good idea. What’s the worst-case scenario? You spend a month with a hot chick, and she doesn’t pick you half a year later? Who the fuck cares? The publicity will be worth it, and hey, maybe she’ll pick you, and the two of you can be one of those goal couples spread over every damn magazine.”
It didn’t sound half bad. I was used to being on magazines and having my face plastered on advertisements on the internet. Maybe this was a good step to take into branching away from only being known for football. I was twenty-nine. I wouldn’t be able to keep playing forever. Athletes were getting more and more powerful, and a guy could only take so many hits before his body started to break down.
You’ve still got time. I stared out at the passing palm trees as we approached the airport. Plenty of time.
Jerry got me through security effortlessly and into the VIP lounge. Those working in security knew not to pester me—another benefit to having a famous face. Once we were in the lounge, Jerry ordered us coffees, and we sat sipping them together before it was time for first-class flyers to board. I shook Jerry’s hand and thanked him for the ride.
“Keep me posted on how things are going. I’ll be curious to see who the lucky lady is at the end of all this. It’s going to be a wild year.”
“You can say that again,” I said.
The girl checking the tickets outside the gate met me with a smile when I boarded the plane. She held out her hand for my ticket and identification, and I handed them to her.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Price. I hope you have a wonderful flight and enjoy your time in New York City.”
I flexed my fingers, motioning for her to hand me my shit back. She did. Then I brushed by her and stalked down the ramp from the gate to the plane.
I went through the same process there, too. Then I was directed up the hall to the left where I found my first-class seat. I sat down and waited rather impatiently to be served. It was only nine thirty in the morning, but I didn’t give a damn. When I flew, I drank. And I didn’t appreciate having to wait.
I was above it.
I drummed my fingers on the armrest as the other passengers boarded, and then I flagged down a stewardess. She came right over with a friendly smile. “What can I get for you, sir?”
“Gin and tonic.”
“All right. It will just be a couple minutes, sir. It’s a bit tight with boarding.”
“Don’t you know who I am?”
The girl blinked, and then her eyes narrowed. She straightened up and fixed the navy-blue vest she wore over the white button-up of her uniform. Her jaw flexed. “I’ll fix your drink presently.”
“You do that,” I said, pulling out my phone and opening my email application. Customer service was really going down everywhere these days.
Chapter 6
Piper
My hairnet was sliding down my forehead as I scooped mashed potatoes and vegetables onto the plates of students on campus. They slid their way down the line with their trays in front of them, and their eyes stared blankly.
Exam time.
I knew the look well. They went about their day in a sleep-deprived haze, and this was likely the only socialization they would have until the end of the semester and Christmas break began. I was lucky to be on this side of the cafeteria buffet and making money rather than still studying for my own exams.
Well, sort of lucky. I wasn’t supposed to be working today, but one of the girls hadn’t shown up for her shift. When the manager of the kitchen messaged me and asked if I was free for three hours, I couldn’t say no—especially because I was already on campus returning some textbooks so I didn’t have to worry about it when the new semester started in January.
If I was even going to be able to come back in January, that was. My last payment was due at the end of December, and I was more than a little short. Somehow, I needed to come up with another fifteen hundred dollars, and that didn’t include the cost of new books. Things were getting tighter and tighter financially, both at school and the restaurant. I had to play things smart. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to afford rent, and I was not going to leave Janie on the hook for covering my half.
There was no way in hell.
When my three-hour shift ended in the cafeteria, I had a sore elbow, and I smelled like a kitchen. I pulled my hairnet off and tucked it into my purse. Then I hurried out of the dining hall and to the other side of campus, where I was organizing books for an hour. I did this at least once a week and got paid fifty bucks for the hour. It was well worth the money and covered my grocery expenses every week.
I’d miss the little bit of extra cash over Christmas break.
When I was done with the books, I was finally free. Well, sort of free. I went out into the freezing cold and unlocked my bike from where it was chained up outside all the others. My bike always looked like a sad little thing compared to the other students’. Where my purple paint was peeli
ng, their bikes were shiny and new, with black tires and tread that actually worked. My tires were gray and dry and almost as smooth as a baby’s ass.
I swung my leg over the seat, adjusted the straps of my bag on my back, and set off down the street for my twenty-minute ride to the restaurant. I was glad I’d worn my fuzzy blue scarf this morning. The cold was furious.
My ankle was better than I thought it would be after my fall the day before. The swelling had almost completely gone down, and there was only a bit of purpling flesh on the outside of the ankle. I could stand and walk just fine, although I could tell it would be sore later tonight when I finally got off my feet. I would have to remember to ice it because tomorrow was just as long of a day as today was.
I arrived at the restaurant around five o’clock. On Thursdays, my mother and father were out delivering orders to events they catered nearby. By events, I meant things like catering people’s book clubs or the occasional family dinner. It brought in some money but not nearly enough.
While they were gone, our part-time cook Aldo covered the kitchens.
I swung around the door frame into the kitchen. “Hey, stranger.”
Aldo’s big brown eyes swept up from the dish he was preparing. “Miss Piper. It’s good to see you. How are you? You look well.”
Aldo and I didn’t cross paths as much as I would have liked. He was one of my favorite people to work with. We laughed a lot and had a lot in common. He was as selfless as they came, too. I admired his resolve and determination to be better and to do better. His optimism was inspiring, and whenever I felt down or like I couldn’t keep going, I thought of him.
I released the doorframe to go deeper into the kitchen. I leaned against the cupboard beside him and crossed my arms. “I’m good. Still alive after the semester from hell, so that’s good.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Your exams went well?”
