Power Play

by Vera Roberts

  “Very. I know hockey players didn’t make that much compared to other athletes but this is very nice!” Nancy glanced around. A few of Sydney’s paintings decorated the walls. A full-length wall mirror greeted guests as they entered the home. Decorative pillows added a touch of softness to the sofas. Every room had a theme – the kitchen, country; the bathrooms, spa; the bedrooms, relaxation. It was Sydney’s goal for the rooms to have a different feeling each time someone stepped foot inside, as if they were stepping into a different universe.

  “Dean saved a lot of his money and doesn’t frivolously spend,” Sydney replied, “and having some lucrative contracts does help. He’s going to shoot a commercial tomorrow for Dolce & Gabbana.”

  “Is he going to be naked?” Nancy casually asked to Sydney’s shocked face. “Well, is he? I’ve seen those commercials. There’s usually a naked hunk in them.”

  “I think he’ll be shirtless,” Sydney replied, “but probably not naked.”

  “Are you okay with that?” Nancy asked. “I know you and Dean had some rough patches in the past with jealousy issues.”

  “It’s only when he’s touchy-feely with another woman when the inner beeyatch comes out.” Sydney chuckled. “But it’s nothing serious. I can handle sharing my man with the world. He was famous before me.”

  “Sit down for a second, and let’s have some girl time.” Nancy patted the sofa next to her. Sydney immediately assumed the position. She laid her head in Nancy’s lap and closed her eyes. It was a meditation and bonding method developed between the women when Sydney was small and it continued well into her adult years. “What’s going on, Sydney Rose?”

  She hated how well her mother could read her. She sensed there were issues before Sydney even uttered a word. “The Ferguson Gallery is going to host my art for an exhibit starting this October and running for a month. If it goes well, they’re going to showcase me for several more months next year. There are even talks for a tour in the works and I’ll travel from gallery to gallery.” Sydney replied.

  “That’s excellent, sweetheart. It sounds like everything is coming to fruition.” Nancy paused for a moment as she did the timeline in her head. “This is around the time of the wedding, isn’t it?”

  “Yep,” Sydney nodded, “I haven’t told Dean yet.”

  “The reason you’re telling me this is…?”

  “I’m thinking about postponing the wedding,” Sydney admitted as she blew out a breath, “I’m not sure how he’ll take it. He already hates Ian.”

  “Why does he hate Ian?”

  “He thinks Ian wants to sleep with me.”

  “And what do you think?”

  Ian was flirtatious but Sydney was hesitant to say there was an interest. For all she knew, Ian was trying to butter her up so she would stay within his grasp. “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Hmm…”Nancy groaned. “I’m not sure if I like the sound of that.”

  “You have to meet Ian to see what I see.” Sydney defended. “He even flirts with his assistant.”

  “He should probably check that before he gets a sexual harassment charge,” Nancy advised. “So when are you going to tell Dean?”

  “Soon.” Sydney vaguely replied. “I’m just waiting for the right time. I literally just made this decision before you arrived.”

  “But you’re not sure because we’re still going gown shopping?” Nancy casually mentioned the appointments at the bridal salons. “So, you’re not entirely sure you’re postponing.”

  “I’m in a position where I have to choose between my career and my wedding,” Sydney shook her head, “one is being sacrificed for the other.”

  “It’s only a wedding, Sydney Rose,” Nancy stroked her hair, “if you really wanted to marry Dean, you two could go to the courthouse and call it a day.”

  “It’ll break Daddy’s heart,” Sydney confessed, “he’s looking forward to walking me down the aisle.”

  “Your father only cares about how much it’s going to cost and if it’ll be an open bar.” Nancy laughed. “He only cares about your happiness at the end of the day. You can always get married but who knows when you’ll have another opportunity like this. The Ferguson is major, honey. Many artists don’t even get a single exhibit and yet you have the world-famous Ferguson hosting you!” She beamed. “So what are you going to do, baby girl? Are you going to postpone the wedding? Are you going to the courthouse tomorrow?”

  Sydney thought about her mother’s words. It was true – if she wanted to get married, they could do it the next day and plan a bigger wedding for later. Something inside Sydney told her that Dean wouldn’t go for that. “I wouldn’t mind getting married at the courthouse,” she replied. “Now, I just need to tell my fiancée.”

  ****

  “Well, this is it,” Sarah opened the door to her one-bedroom apartment. “My home sweet abode.”

  Jameson stepped in and looked around. It was a very nice apartment with vaulted ceilings, central air, and a separate bedroom. Numerous pictures of family and friends adorned the walls, along with an oversized picture of Backstreet Boys hanging above the flat-screen TV. They walked down the short corridor to the living room where he was greeted by a balcony that looked out to Union Square. “This is very nice, cuore mio. You made it sound like a dump.”

  “Well, I figured if I tell you how bad it is, when you get to see the real thing, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” She mused. “Sit down and relax. Did you want anything to drink? We have water, juice, any alcoholic beverage you can think of and also tea, if you want to be proper and fancy.”

  “I’ll drink later. I want you to come join me here.” He patted the cushy sofa. He made a trip to see Sarah as he was still recovering from his arm injury. “Let’s talk.”

  “Okay,” Sarah agreed. She began to walk towards him but stopped. “Should I get a bottle of wine just in case?”

  “If you think you need it?” He shrugged.

  Sarah quickly poured a glass of Mangoscato and joined her boyfriend. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about the sleeping arrangements,” Jameson began, “I just want to be clear what’s going on.”

  “This sofa pulls out to a bed so you can definitely sleep here,” Sarah took a sip of wine, “but I have to say my bed with me in it is probably a much better choice.”

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about,” Jameson turned towards her, “I do want to share a bed with you but it’ll difficult. I don’t want to put that kind of burden on you.”

  “Burden?” Sarah asked. “By what do you mean? The incredibly hot boyfriend but he’s wearing a chastity belt burden? That?”

  “Is my celibacy a problem?” Jameson asked. “Because if it is, I don’t want to waste your time.”

  “I don’t have a problem with your celibacy because it tells me if you’re not fucking me, you’re not fucking anyone else,” Sarah took another sip, “pardon my uncouthness but I have to be frank about this. I just don’t understand the why. You’re barely 22 and you’ve taken this vow of celibacy for reasons I don’t know of but I respect your decision.”

  “Would it help if I told you the story behind it?” Jameson asked. “I don’t mind sharing but I want to make sure this is something you want to know as well. I’m also perfectly happy keeping you in the dark about everything as well.”

  “You might as well as spill it,” Sarah shrugged, “no point in leading me on just to yank me back.”

  “A few years ago, I was a bit of a wild child. I was living in Europe with my family, spending money like water. I was a regular on the nightclub scene. I went to all of the parties. I was a little popular back then. Life of the party,” Jameson shyly admitted.

  Sarah smiled. Life of the party was a gross understatement. Jameson was the party. He had a notorious reputation back in Italy for being a partying lothario, dating models and actresses. The press followed his every move and constantly reported on his antics. A few pictures surfaced with Jameson bein
g carried out of various nightclubs and getting into fights with various paparazzi.

  Of course, he wasn’t just a partying kid without a care to finances. Sarah did her research on his background and found he was the son of a billionaire magnate who owned a series of name-brand companies. Upon the death of his father, Stefano, Jameson and his sister were set to split a staggering twenty billion dollar fortune.

  At twenty-two years old, Jameson was a sight for sore eyes. He stood 6’2, with chocolate brown eyes, baldhead, tanned skin, and dimples that would make any woman’s heart melt. He had a boyish ruggedness about him, the type that would down shooters at a bar before going home to cuddle with a puppy. He possessed a remarkably fit physique due to his dedication to running and daily bodyweight exercises.

  Jameson also spoke five languages, was a great philanthropist, and was worth more than the entire Kings roster, staff, and owner combined. He became a hockey player because he was too aggressive for regular rugby play. It made sense he was the second-highest player in the league behind Dean.

  Still, Sarah patiently listened. There was more to him than met the eye.

  “I dated a woman who was bad for me. Anastasia was her name but I called her Annie. She had a drug problem but I didn’t know it when I first dated her. I was 17, barely out of high school. She was 20. She was an up-and-coming model. My family hated her off the bat. They thought she was after my money and the family’s wealth and they were probably right. So, we went to a party with her friends. Coke was flowing everywhere and that’s the first night I tried it. It was the most amazing high in my life. There’s a saying about addicts – they’re “chasing the dragon”, you know? It’s because they’re trying to recapture the first time they got high.

  “Long story short, I became an addict along with her. My family cut me off and I wasn’t allowed to be on any property my family owned for fear I was going to steal or destroy it. And when I was cut off from my family, my addiction became worse because what else did I have to lose, you know? Then one night, it destroyed everything. Annie decided to speedball – mix heroin and cocaine. I wasn’t into heroin so I just did coke. I ended up overdosing but Annie…” Jameson paused and sighed. “…Annie died.”

  “Oh my God,” Sarah grabbed Jameson’s hand and tightly grasped it. “I’m so sorry, J.”

  “When I woke up, I was in a hospital and connected to all of these tubes and what-not. When I learned Annie died, I just begged to God for his forgiveness and I would do whatever to make it right. After rehab, I went into rugby but I was too aggressive for it so I didn’t last long. A buddy of mine suggested I would be perfect for hockey so I packed up and moved to Canada. Studied hockey and found I was a natural at it. I tried out for the Kings and was lucky they picked me up immediately.” Jameson swallowed. “I also realized if I needed to be the best hockey player I can be, I needed to be celibate but now it’s becoming a challenge to do so.”

  “So, what does this mean?” Sarah stroked a thumb over his hand.

  “I want to make love to you but I don’t want to disobey the vow I made to God.” He answered in his gruffy voice. “Do you see my conundrum?”

  “I’m not going to fight God, if that’s where you’re going with this,” Sarah stated. “I know what the Man can do and I do not want it with Him.”

  Jameson chuckled. “I want us to wait and get to know each other better without distraction.” He kissed her hand. “I would prefer we waited until marriage.”

  “That I can do and…” Sarah paused as she began to digest what Jameson really told her. “You want to marry me?”

  “Why not?” He rubbed her hand. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t!”

  Sarah looked away as her face contorted into various emotions. She’d always claimed she was going to be someone’s best wife and the woman of his dreams. Now Jameson played chess with her and delivered a spectacular checkmate. “I’m actually stumped.”

  Jameson leaned over and kissed her, sweeping his lips over hers before he inserted his tongue inside. Kissing Sarah was the equivalent of opening the best birthday gift each time he’d done it. Her lips were plump, her tongue masterful and skilled, and her desire was hungry. One makeout session he found out one erogenous zone of hers – the nape of her neck – and he made it a point to kiss her there but not too often so she would get used to it but just enough where she would always think of him whenever she touched that spot.

  He felt the desire rise in his jeans and he reluctantly pulled away before he couldn’t stop. “It’s going to a be a difficult wait but I’ll know you’ll be worth it.”

  Sarah reeled from the best kiss of her life and felt her heart beating out of her chest. It then occurred to her the other sound in the room was Jameson speaking. “Huh?”

  “Your phone?” He pointed to her purse. “Your phone is ringing.”

  “Oh yeah. That.” She was annoyed a kiss interrupted them but figured if she answered the call quickly, the other party could leave them alone for the rest of the night. Sarah set down her wine glass and hurried to her phone. It was Seren calling her. “Hey girlie! Oh, nothing. I’m just chilling here at home with some Jameson.” She winked at her boyfriend. “What’s up? Wait, what? Are you sure it was Dean? Yeah, send that picture over, will ya? Thanks!” She hung up.

  “What was that about?” Jameson asked.

  Sarah slowly walked over to Jameson and sat beside him. “Dean is about as sharp as melted butter.” A notification went off on her phone and she looked down to see the incoming picture from Seren as Jameson looked on. Sarah smirked and shook her head. “Becky with the good hair made her brilliant return.”

  “Wow,” Jameson sighed, “that’s not a good look.”

  “No, it is not,” Sarah quickly forwarded the picture to Sydney with a message. She then turned off her phone. “I’m sure there’s going to be plenty of hell when she sees that picture and you know what? Right now, I don’t care. I have my man with me and that’s all that matters. I will bail Sydney out first thing in the morning.”

  Eight

  It was the perfect size.

  Over a thousand square feet. Two bedrooms and equal bathrooms. A small set of stairs led to a spacious bathroom. A kitchen was loaded with all of the latest appliances, illuminating the small space of shiny stainless steel and marble countertops. It was located on the top floor and Sydney had access to the courtyard that contained a small rose garden, table and chairs, and an overhead shade for the warmer days. It boasted of sweeping views of Downtown Los Angeles and if Sydney looked hard enough, she could spot Santa Monica in the far distance.

  The price of the loft was quite expensive – running almost four thousand a month in rent, with the option to buy. The selling price was over a million dollars and it was something too expensive for Sydney’s pockets, though the loft was her dream space.

  She began to imagine all of the art she could create. She’d already visualized a warrior man with long, flowing hair with his partner next to him as they looked out into the distance. She saw a portrait of a nude male, standing in front of a mirror, with a smirk on his face. She could spend her days and nights creating art while Dean had an away game or were at practice. The loft could be their second home away from home.

  It was perfect for her. It was perfect for them.

  I wish Dean was here, Sydney silently pouted. Dean was slow on purchasing the loft Sydney originally wanted, complaining how far away it was from their home. He couldn’t accompany her to view the current loft because of his photo shoot.

  Naturally, Ian stepped in. “So, what do you think?” Ian asked as Sydney looked around. “Is this to your liking?”

  “It’s great!” Sydney turned to her mother. “What do you think, Mom?”

  “It’s very nice,” Nancy looked around the loft. “Very, very nice.”

  “Great. It’s settled. This is your artist’s loft.” Ian declared. “Let me know if you need help with moving supplies and equipment.”

 
“Well, I can’t afford this.” Sydney replied. “I love this loft but it’s too expensive and I want to get Dean’s opinion.”

  “I’m sure your fiancée would love it if you do.” Ian smiled. “Besides, this is a popular loft that has a lot of interest. If you love it, you’re getting it.”

  “I can’t afford this!” Sydney repeated. “I don’t even have a hundred dollars in my checking; how am I going to afford this monster down payment?”

  Ian walked up to her and caressed her cheek. “It’s done. Consider this an early wedding gift to you and Dean.”

  Nancy carefully watched the interaction between Ian and Sydney. Ian was very touchy-feely. “Hmmph.” She folded her arms.

  “I’ll speak with the realtor now.” Ian walked over to the realtor.

  Nancy waited until Ian was out of earshot before she approached her daughter. “Baby girl, can I speak with you for a moment?”

  “Sure!” Sydney walked over to her mother. “What is it?”

  Nancy hesitated and grimaced before she decided to speak again. “Do you think it’s a good idea that your curator is buying this place for you? It seems awfully…generous.”

  “As in strings attached?” Sydney questioned. “He said it’s an early wedding gift for me and Dean. That’s fine, right?”

  “Well, yes. I don’t know how Dean feels about it but I would imagine he would have an issue with another man buying his fiancée a very expensive loft.” Nancy questioned. “You mentioned Dean didn’t like Ian and I’m starting to see why.”

  “Should I turn down the loft?” Sydney asked. “What difference would it make if Dean bought it or Ian did?”

  “Baby girl, it makes a big difference,” Nancy looked back at Ian. He was talking privately with the realtor as they went over intricate specifications and details. “I don’t know what his intentions are but I don’t think he has your best interest in mind.”