Going for the Goal

by Sara Rider

  “Let me just take that,” Genevieve said, gently prying the dress from them with the delicacy of a bomb defuser.

  “Given how high-profile my wedding will be, you’ll need to sign an agreement granting me exclusive access to the design until then. I don’t do sloppy seconds.”

  Jillian’s territorial instincts surged, kicking up her blood pressure. She curled her fingers into her palms to keep from slapping the younger woman.

  “Unfortunately, I’ve already promised this dress to someone else,” Genevieve said graciously. “I’d be happy to show you some other options.”

  Alexa’s hot-pink lips parted in shock, like she didn’t realize someone could ever deny one of her requests. “Do you have any idea who I am? I’m marrying Sebastian Liakos, the hottest star in the NHL. You can’t afford not to give me what I want.”

  Jaime snorted. “Actually, my friend here is wearing this dress to the Sport Fitness Awards tomorrow night, and since she’ll be with Nick Salinger, I’m pretty sure your publicity isn’t needed.”

  Jillian cringed. Being in the same room as Alexa was uncomfortable enough, but things were about to turn ugly.

  “You’re Nick’s date?”

  “And his agent,” Jillian replied coolly.

  “Weird. I didn’t think Nick actually dated anyone.” The implication that Jillian wasn’t worthy of that rare honor was as clear as a shard of ice. “Not that that’s stopped him from interfering in my love life with his unwanted advice and stupid accusations.”

  “Maybe Nick’s a lot smarter than you think.”

  “Or maybe he’s butting in where he doesn’t belong. I might not be allowed into my daddy’s boardroom, but I know what goes on with the Vipers. Nick’s just saying these things because he wants to make my fiancé look bad so he can get a contract extension. Seb loves me. That’s why he proposed.”

  Instead of coming to her defense, the women in Alexa’s entourage seemed overly occupied with perusing the racks of dresses. Did Alexa truly not realize how much of a cheating jerk her fiancé was? Jillian had assumed Alexa was simply overlooking Liakos’s smarmy side for some sort of personal gain, but she sounded utterly sincere. “Some men propose for a lot of different reasons.” Like access to giant trust funds.

  “And some women are so career-driven, they look down on those of us who care about things like weddings and true love.”

  Dear god, talking to this girl was making Jillian’s eye twitch. “There is nothing wrong with having a career. You can have a job you love and still have a relationship.”

  “Daddy said I’m too rich to worry about having a job. And Seb agrees.” Alexa huffed. “Besides, planning the wedding of the century is practically a job in itself. It’s going to be the defining moment of my life and I. Need. That. Dress!”

  “What you need is to decide what you really want in life instead of clinging to a man who doesn’t have much faith in your potential.”

  “Yeah? How’s that working out for you?” Alexa smiled, knowing she’d just landed a direct hit. “Look, I’m not completely stupid. I know about branding and I know Seb needs a fairy-tale wedding to help with his public image. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me. We’re going to have a wedding that’d make even Kate Middleton jealous. Horse-drawn carriages, crystal centerpieces, and one thousand live doves.”

  “In most fairy tales, the happily-ever-after only comes after some kind of tragedy. It never hurts to have a backup plan in case things don’t work out.” Jillian sighed. She didn’t even know why she was arguing with Alexa. It wasn’t any of her business if the socialite chose to throw her life away with a jerk like Sebastian Liakos, and it wasn’t like Jillian had her own love life any more figured out. But she hated hearing a young woman sell herself short simply because she didn’t believe she deserved more.

  Alexa stared at her blankly. “Is this supposed to be some sort of lesson?”

  “It’s supposed to be some friendly advice.”

  “Advice from the person trying to sabotage my dream wedding by not letting me have the bridesmaid dress I want.” She crossed her arms and pouted.

  “Sebastian Liakos is a philandering bigot and you deserve better.”

  “Philandering?” Alexa laughed. “Shows what you know. Seb doesn’t believe in charity work.”

  “It’s like someone tapped her skull like a maple tree and sucked out her brains,” Jaime whispered while Jillian gaped.

  “Philandering, not philanthropic.” She pulled out her business card and handed it to Alexa. “Give me a call when you’re ready to learn what that word really means.”

  Jillian expected to have her card thrown back in her face, but Alexa surprised her by tucking it into the pocket of her thousand-dollar skinny jeans, the briefest flash of doubt crossing her features, before uttering, “Whatever,” turning on her heel, and storming out of the store.

  “That was weird,” Jaime said as soon as Alexa and her entourage had left.

  “Definitely. But let’s not focus on them. Today is about you. And you still need a fabulous necklace to go with that dress.”

  After saying good-bye to Genevieve, they decided to cap off the day with a mani-pedi, then headed to a nearby cafe to celebrate their fashion success.

  “This was really nice,” Jaime said, dipping her tea bag into the hot water.

  “Getting pampered instead of spending the day covered in sweat and mud?”

  “Obviously.” Jaime grinned. “But what I meant was spending time with you like this. As a friend instead of my agent.”

  Jillian took a long sip of water to mask the dryness in her throat.

  “I know this kind of sappy talk makes your skin melt, but you booked me a bikini wax, so I figured we crossed the ‘business only’ line a while ago.”

  “I had fun, too.” Minus the uncomfortable episode with Alexa.

  Jaime raised one eyebrow. “It’d help if you said it like you meant it.”

  Jillian pushed the lettuce around on her plate, looking for another piece of strawberry in her salad. “I do. It’s just taking me a while to get used to the idea that business relationships can also be personal.”

  “Wrong again. You have no trouble caring about your clients. It’s when we start to care about you that you get uncomfortable.”

  “I’m getting used to the idea.” She speared a juicy red berry and popped it into her mouth.

  “Let me guess. Nick Salinger is helping you with that revelation?”

  She normally had an impeccable poker face, but even the mention of Nick’s name made her cheeks burn. “My life would be a lot easier if you weren’t so smart.”

  “People say that to me all the time. So is it serious?”

  Her first instinct was to hesitate. Redirect. But for what? She trusted Jaime. Why not open up for once? “It’s looking that way.”

  “He treats you well? Because if he doesn’t, I’ll happily let him have a word with my fists.”

  Jillian laughed. “I know he has a bad reputation, but there’s a lot more to him below the surface. The truth is, he treats me like a queen.”

  Jaime reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “Good. You deserve it.”

  She smiled and squeezed Jaime’s hand. For the first time in her life, she believed not only that she deserved for this kind of dream to come true, but that it actually would.

  Nick tugged at the bow tie around his neck. “We’re going to be late.”

  “I know. I’m almost done,” Jillian answered without looking up from her laptop, typing furiously.

  “You said that half an hour ago.” He walked behind her chair and set his hands on her bare shoulders, rubbing the tense muscles.

  They’d swung by her office on their way to the ceremony to pick up her cell phone, which she’d somehow managed to forget earlier in the day. It was unlike her t
o be so distracted, but the online ballots for the New York Association of Professional Sports Agents election were closing tonight and her nerves leading up to this moment had been shakier than an elephant on a tightrope. And while Nick didn’t love the fact that she was about to add another commitment to her workaholic schedule, he was damn proud of her for going after what she wanted.

  He should’ve known she’d try to sneak in a few extra minutes of business while they were here. He’d watched her work herself ragged for the last week putting the final touches on her campaign in between making sure the Vipers didn’t pull any more bullshit with him and taking care of all her other clients.

  She moaned, leaning her head back. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “Unfair is having to look at you in this sexy-as-hell dress, knowing I can’t touch you the way I want for another five hours.” He slipped his fingers beneath the thin strap of her dress and pulled it off her shoulder.

  “Maybe we can skip the after-party,” she said, voice thick with desire. He kissed the curve of her neck, feeling a surge of masculine pride when a shiver rolled through her. “Mmm, maybe we should skip the whole damn ceremony.”

  He turned her chin toward him and kissed her. He’d never get tired of the way her lips parted instantly, inviting him in. The way her armor would crumble under his touch. But he wasn’t the only one counting on her presence tonight, so he pulled back. “We need to go.”

  “There’s still fifteen more minutes before the ballots close.”

  He leaned over and turned the monitor off. “Which means there’s nothing else you can do. So let’s go celebrate your inevitable victory.” He tugged her jacket off the back of her chair and held it out for her.

  She stood up and slipped her arms into the sleeves with a sigh. “You have too much faith in me.”

  “Because I know you’re the best at everything you do. And I know you deserve this.” He took her hand and led her to the door. “But for the record, you also deserve better office furniture. This desk is falling apart.”

  “I know. I’ll fix it eventually.” When he cleared his throat, she added, “And I’ll make sure to ask for your manly help.”

  “Good. Now are you ready?”

  She hesitated and his gut felt like it had fallen over a cliff.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind if you want to go solo.” His attempt to sound sincere fell a little flat. He hadn’t been looking forward to the event, but now that he’d seen her in that dress, he damn well didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

  “No, that’s not what I want. You’re what I want. I’ve spent too much time worrying about what other people think and not enough time enjoying what we have. Besides, it’s just a party. What could possibly go wrong?”

  He pulled her across the threshold and shut the door behind them. “Nothing.”

  21

  “If I’d known this was going to be the end result, I never would’ve booked you that cologne ad,” Jillian muttered as she watched Nick sign what was probably his fiftieth autograph of the night. She’d lost count half an hour ago.

  He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Jealous?”

  “Absolutely,” she said without reservation. There was no point in lying after the way she’d stared daggers at a woman who leaned over the metal railing and stroked Nick’s arm seductively while he signed her copy of the ad.

  A gust of chilly wind blew and she tugged the collar of her jacket tighter around her neck.

  “Are you cold? Want me to tell the rest of the fans too bad?”

  “No, they’ve been waiting a long time. I’ll manage. Besides, it’s not like anyone is ever on time for an after-party.”

  “You can go in without me if you want. I know Jaime’s waiting for you.”

  “It’s fine. She doesn’t have a problem making friends, and she’s got her boyfriend to keep her out of trouble. Plus, I like watching you with your fans. We’ve been so focused on the business side of things, it’s nice to see you getting the chance to focus on the parts of the game you like.” She didn’t need to mention that the thought of tearing her eyes away from him was impossible while he was wearing a tux. The luxurious black material highlighted his broad shoulders and strong legs like a second skin. With his angular, stubble-covered jaw and dark blue eyes, she couldn’t blame his fans for being just as enthralled.

  He paused between autographs to cup her cheek and drop his forehead to hers. “You’re incredible.”

  The compliment made every part of her body tingle with warmth, but she didn’t protest when he shrugged off his coat and placed it over her shoulders.

  It took another half hour before they were inside the luxury hotel ballroom that a television network bigwig had booked for the event. It had been a toss-up between this and what would’ve undoubtedly been a more raucous party thrown by a Yankees player at a nearby club. She’d opted for this one, knowing it’d have better publicity opportunities and a greater likelihood that some key marketing execs would show up. She needed to make sure Jaime got as much exposure as possible after her excellent, though somewhat unpredictable, job onstage.

  The moment Jillian walked in and saw Jaime dancing with the band, she realized she probably didn’t need to worry about getting the charismatic soccer player any extra attention.

  “Anyone ever tell you that your clients are crazy?” Nick asked.

  “I think you told me that the first time you walked into my office.”

  He nudged her shoulder with his. “Want me to get you a drink?”

  “Better yet,” she said, scanning the crowd in front of the bar, “I want you to buy me a drink and conveniently bump into that guy while you do it.”

  “Grant Rhodes?”

  “Exactly.” She tucked her arm inside his and headed to the bar, where the well-known hockey reporter waited.

  “Jillian!” Grant said with a wide smile when they approached. “I haven’t seen you since you convinced me Ryan Meyers was secretly being traded to Boston. That story got me a ton of flak.”

  “Yes, but it also got you a nationally syndicated column.”

  Grant laughed. “Fair enough. Can I buy you a drink?”

  “No.” Nick’s hand curled around the curve of her butt, and she hoped Grant didn’t hear the growl coming from his throat. The possessive gesture made her heart skip a beat, but she forced herself to relax and relish the dirty promises in his touch.

  “What Nick means is that we’d love to buy you a drink.”

  Grant’s eyes widened as though he’d only just noticed Nick’s presence. “The Punisher. It’s great to meet you. You’ve had quite the season.”

  Ten minutes later, Jillian sipped her champagne in a private toast to the fact that she’d secured an interview for Nick about the changing landscape of aggression in the NHL—one she knew would spin him in a positive light.

  They found Jaime’s boyfriend, Alex, at a table near the edge of the room and went to join him. Before Jillian managed to take a seat, Jaime appeared out of nowhere and nearly tackled her with a hug. “This is the most amazing night ever! Did you see me onstage?”

  Jillian patted her on the back. Jaime, affectionate as a puppy, had been her first client to obliterate the no-touching-your-agent rule, but they’d still managed to have a successful, professional relationship. Given everything the soccer player had gone through in the last year with her unexpected diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis, which had nearly destroyed her career, Jaime needed a friend and confidante as much as an agent. “You were fantastic, but I always knew you would be.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Jillian quickly introduced Nick to Jaime and Alex. To her relief, Alex was obviously a hockey fan and, despite being a quiet guy, seemed to have no trouble engaging the equally taciturn Nick in a conversation that lasted long enough for Jilli
an to point out to Jaime everyone worth talking to in the room. Jillian had made a lot of progress with Jaime’s marketability over the last year, but the soccer player’s endorsements were nowhere near what an athlete of her caliber deserved.

  Over the course of the night, Jillian noticed the way Jaime couldn’t help but gravitate toward Alex, like a magnetic force pulled them together. The way their fingers would reach out to each other, almost subconsciously. It was a relationship that never should’ve come to be, considering Alex’s role as head physiotherapist for the Seattle Falcons. They’d crossed a solid professional line yet still managed to come out unscathed, thanks to a little bit of luck and a lot of faith.

  It made her think she and Nick might work out after all.

  “Oh my god, I love this song,” Jaime exclaimed when the band came back from a break. “Come on, Alex, let’s dance.”

  “Anything for you, babe.” The smile Alex gave Jaime was so smoldering, even Jillian felt a rush of heat.

  “You’re staring at the dance floor like you want to join them,” Nick said.

  “Walking in heels is one thing, but dancing involves coordination.”

  “I wasn’t asking if you were a good dancer. I was asking if you wanted to dance.”

  She took a sip of her drink to mask her discomfort. “I’m not a fan of making a fool of myself in public.”

  He plucked the champagne flute from her hand and set it on the table. “Come on.”

  She didn’t know what compelled her to take his hand and follow him. Probably the fact that her body’s desire to obey him was infinitely stronger than any rational thought or protest her brain could come up with. To her surprise, he bypassed the dance floor, escorting her to the hallway that led to the back kitchen.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Trust me,” he whispered, guiding her to a dark corner out of sight of any passing catering staff and sliding one arm behind her back. “Just so you know, I’m not a great dancer myself.”