by Ally Adams
“We always worry that the office girls are going to steal our husbands,” Maggie confessed to me sort-of-jokingly.
I smiled and eased both of their minds.
“Maggie, Anne, you couldn’t be more wrong. If I wanted to save my marriage, I’d love my husband working at the Saints,” I told them.
They both frowned at me, confused, so I elaborated. “The office girls are surrounded by hot, fit, players, all day, every day, coming and going. My office is right next door to The Russian and Ed. Even the coaching staff in the office is made up of former players. So, not to say that Jim and Derek aren’t lovely men, but I promise you there’s lots to distract the office girls.”
Both women chuckled and they brightened considerably as Maggie squeezed my arm and they left to find their table. Yep, Jim would get me for that but the sisterhood is important.
Then Valentina entered. I almost choked on a gulp of air. I grabbed for the guest RSVP list. I didn’t see her name on it, so maybe it was booked in the name of her guest. She hadn’t seen me yet and I hesitantly glanced up praying and offering up a thousand Hail Marys that Julieta hadn’t accompanied her, but really, what were the odds? Of course she’d be there. Valentina turned and then I saw her guest, an older lady I didn’t know. Thank you God, thank you, I breathed. Valentina saw me, waved and came over, kissing me on both cheeks.
“Don’t you look beautiful, Alice,” she said.
“Thank you. You were wonderful by the way. I came to the jazz bar,” I explained.
“I saw you but you didn’t stay to say hello. I haven’t seen much of you of late Alice, you’ve been most remiss,” she scolded me, which kind of convinced me she was clueless as to what was going on in her brother’s life despite what he said. She moved her guest, the older lady, forward to introduce her.
“This is my friend, Michelle,” she said. Michelle offered her hand, and we shook.
“Alice is a friend of Tomás’s, and...” she read my name tag, “the Saints’ Event Coordinator.”
I nodded, welcomed her friend and helped them look for their name tags. Our receptionist Suzie had typed them up otherwise I would have spotted Valentina’s right away and known she was coming.
“This is my first Saints’ Sisters lunch,” she told me. “With Tomás as a guest of honor, I couldn’t resist.”
“It’s my first too,” I confessed. “Let’s just hope it goes to plan.” She gave me an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
Then I saw Tomás and The Russian arrive; wow, what a sight—two tall, handsome, fit men in dark suits and ties. How I would love to have Tomás on top of me in that suit. Sigh. Right, try not to glaze over and remember you’re working, I told myself. Tomás looked a little pained to be there and his eyes searched the room. When his gaze landed on mine, his face relaxed. He nudged The Russian and they headed towards where Kay and I stood at the reception table. He went to kiss me hello and The Russian stopped him.
“Ah yes, hello Al...iss,” he said, then noticed his sister. “Hi Tina, Michelle,” He gave them both a kiss.
I introduce The Russian to Michelle and to Valentina, not sure if they’d met before, but whatever and then suggested they all find their seats. Tomás lingered behind and whispered in my ear.
“Bella, that red dress and those four buttons, if I undid those...”
I looked up and he was yanked away by The Russian. He shrugged as he was led off and I couldn’t help but laugh. Well done Russian, a man on a mission to uphold the professionalism of the lunch, damn him.
The event kicked off with Loretta welcoming everyone and sharing some funny stories about her life in radio and her love of soccer. During this the entree was served, there was a raffle and our resident D.J. for the lunch played some good tunes. I didn’t get to sit down for long and I placed myself at the worst table near the door, so I could keep jumping up and down. Tomás and The Russian were on the best table at the front with Loretta and some of our top female sponsors and of course, Elizabeth, the coach’s wife who hosted the table for us.
I felt my phone buzz with a text and grabbed it. I hoped there wasn’t a drama with the catering or at the office. I smiled as I saw the message from Tomás.
TOMÁS: Need 2 kiss U, immediately
I looked to his table and found him watching me. I gave him a smile that I hoped read all my lustful thoughts. I sent a teasing reply.
ME: Behave and be a good star guest
Before he could text back, Loretta took to the stage again, this time to introduce our ‘talent’ and I held my breath hoping the boys were at least a little entertaining and gave the girls a bit of value for money, although I think the chance for lunch out and a champagne seemed to get them all across the line. Loretta called them up and gave Tomás and The Russian a microphone each; she stood between them on the stage. I could see Tomás searching for me again and he found me in the corner near the stage. I gave him an encouraging smile and he didn’t reciprocate, we’d have to practice that.
Loretta began. “Ladies, I would like to introduce you to two of the hotties... um, I mean talented professional players of the Saints team...”
The girls broke up laughing and cheered.
“... Tomás Carrera and The Russian, who must have a first name, but I forgot to ask, and what a great game they both had on the weekend and a big win for the Saints.”
The room erupted in cheers. Loretta did a general interview with them both about how long they had been with the Saints, what they loved about the game, their biggest challenges and their training schedule. She made both of them show their muscles and they both rolled their eyes and carried on, but secretly loved it by the look of them. Such bigheads. Then bravely, she opened it up to questions from the floor—three hundred women on the bubbles... good grief.
I moved into the crowd with the spare microphone—my job was to head to whomever Loretta selected and give her the microphone. She picked someone on the complete opposite side of the room to me and I gave her the look. Again the girls laughed as Loretta commentated my journey across the room.
“Alice, the Saints’ Events Coordinator is making her way across the room... she’ll be there soon... don’t forget that question... yes she should have worn her runners,” she said.
I grinned, playing along with Loretta, and finally getting to the woman with her hand raised. I gave her the microphone.
“What’s your favorite position?” she asked.
The room erupted in laughter and The Russian and Tomás took it in good grace. Loretta nodded to Tomás.
“Well I play goalkeeper,” he said, with his sexy accent, “and I like that position because it can make or break the game.”
“So,” Loretta frowned, “it’s a position you have to stay on top of to be good at?”
The girls in the audience tittered again.
Tomás nodded. “Yes although I’m not always on top of it, my first half wasn’t good on the weekend.”
Loretta’s expression was definitely in the gutter even if Tomás was unaware of the innuendo with the translation.
The Russian interrupted. “I think what Tomás is trying to say is that we have to maintain our fitness and constantly improve our skills to remain on top.”
“Yes, thank you, Russian, that’s what I would have said except you did,” Tomás agreed and the girls smiled, watching him with adoring glances, as if they all wanted to help him with his translation. Good grief.
“What position do you play, Russian?” Loretta asked.
“Forward. But you know that Loretta.” He turned the tables back on her.
“Yes, I do,” she agreed. “Next question.” The hands shot up and she picked a lady on the opposite side of the room again and everyone laughed as I made a show of pulling off my heels and hurrying over.
Loretta continued, “That’s a stylish outfit you’re wearing Alice. A label?”
“Yes,” I said speaking into the microphone, “an original Sasha Saxon, available at sashasaxon-dot-
com,” I said, and, spotting Sasha, wrinkled my nose at her. I reached the young woman with black rimmed glasses who was next to ask a question and handed her the microphone.
“Do you both get homesick sometimes?” she asked.
The Russian started first this time. “Well I’m not actually from Russia, I’m from Boston.”
Several cheers went up in the audience and Loretta added, “Well we have some Bostonians in the room.”
“That’s the classy folk,” The Russian added and they cheered again. “I would like to be homesick but my family keeps visiting.” The ladies all laughed and I started to relax a little. They were both dry and funny, and it was going to be okay.
“And Tomás, where is your hometown?” Loretta asked.
“Buenos Aires,” he said, and I heard the collective sigh as the words rolled off his tongue in his sexy accent. That tongue that I was in love with and that would be all over me on Wednesday. I needed a glass of cold water immediately.
“Do you get homesick?” Loretta asked again.
“No,” he said flatly and didn’t elaborate. Everyone laughed at his direct answer. Then he continued. “My sister Valentina is my housemate, so I have some family here. She’s here today.”
“Stand up, Valentina, where are you?” Loretta called.
Valentina stood up and gave a wave, and everyone cheered.
Tomás continued, “She’s a very good jazz singer and performs every Saturday and Sunday night from six p.m. at the Buzz Club. There’s a free plug Tina, you can cook me dinner for that.”
The room broke up again.
“So do you two do duets?” Loretta asked.
Tomás shook his head. “I don’t sing. But The Russian does.”
Every eye in the house turned to The Russian. I had forgotten until now that he did a version of Sweet Child of Mine at Lucas’s pre-season party and did as good a job as Axel, well almost. No-one can do Axel better than Axel and those dance moves, yeah.
Loretta worked the audience up. “So could we get a duet then Valentina and Russian?”
The crowd starting clapping and The Russian held up his hand and shut it down with a firm head shake.
“Can’t see any electric guitar here, Loretta and that’s the only way I’ll perform, I only do rock.”
Loretta looked forlornly at the D.J. who shook his head. “Right then, stored away for next time,” she said. “Another question.” This time she picked someone nearby, in the middle of the room.
I gave the microphone to a woman who looked like a personal trainer. She seemed super fit and her question confirmed it.
“What’s your favorite workout?” she asked.
Loretta nodded to Tomás.
“I like to swim but the coach, Johan, likes us to run.” He glanced to the coach’s wife, Elizabeth, as he said this and they exchanged knowing smiles. “So I’m running all the time, more than I’ve run in my entire life. He even makes us run to the pool.”
Elizabeth nodded in understanding, and the ladies laughed again. He was so endearing and everything he said with his sexy accent and delivered with his boyish good looks just had them eating out of his hand.
“And Russian?” Loretta turned to him.
“I like weights,” he told the gym bunny. “I’m not into speed, as you can tell from my svelte shape.” Laughter erupted around the room as everyone studied The Russian wall who was anything but svelte.
My first lunch was going to be a hit, thank you boys.
The Russian continued and addressed the lady who asked the question. “I bench press around 320 pounds,” he said, and she looked impressed. Most of us had no idea if that was good or not but by her reaction, I’m guessing it was good.
“Last question,” Loretta said, looking around the room, “and let’s make it a good one.”
“A good one near me,” I said into the microphone, and got a round of laughs.
She teased as she skimmed over the twenty or more hands that were in the air and settled on a hand from the back row. I took off with the microphone and passed it to a lady who looked as if she had way too much plastic surgery and was barely forty.
She had a husky voice and I knew she was trying to be sexy.
“I have a question for Tomás,” she said. “The tango has its origins in Buenos Aires. Do you tango?”
The room erupted in whistles and cheering and Tomás looked as if he was sizing up where the quickest exit was located. He smiled and shook his head slightly.
“Tomás, you must have learned at school at least? It’s the national dance isn’t it? Do you tango?” Loretta pushed him.
“Ah, I guess every South American schoolboy learns to tango.” He looked towards me begging me to rescue him and wrap it up. I gave him a smile that said ‘bring it on’. I’d pay for that later no doubt.
The D.J. began with some perfect slow tango music and the girls clapped and started saying ‘tango, tango, tango...’
Loretta held up her hand. “We have to find Tomás a partner.”
He smiled and started to look pretty satisfied that he’d be safe now. The Russian took Tomás’s microphone from him, freeing him up, but Tomás put his hands in his suit pants’ pockets and rocked, expecting no-one would know how to tango to partner him. Loretta was smarter.
“Valentina, you must be able to tango, yes?”
“Yes.” She nodded and stood.
Tomás gave her a pained expression, but folded to the crowd pressure. He took the couple of stairs down from the stage and glanced at me with a look that I couldn’t read but I think it was ‘thanks for getting me into this!’—I would have to remind him it was all set up by my predecessor and who was I to stop the flow of a good show? He stopped near his sister, slipping off his suit jacket to a fresh round of whistles and catcalls, and placed it over the back of the chair. I swear he looked embarrassed—who would have thought.
Loretta introduced them. “Ladies and the few gentlemen present, allow me to introduce the tango with Tomás and Valentina Carrera!” The audience cheered and then a hush fell over the room while the music began and we all imagined ourselves in the arms of Tomás.
He led his sister to the floor, raised his left hand and placed his other hand on her back. Valentina put her hand in his and mirrored him, putting her hand on the center of his back. They stood tall, such beautiful creatures, and I held my breath watching the tilt of his jaw and his power over Valentina’s stance.
On the beat, he moved forward with his left leg, slow, slow, quick, quick, slow and repeated it. They were so masterful in their walk together that I’m sure they must have danced together before, even if Valentina was the baby of the family and it might have only been at family weddings. It was such a sensual ballroom dance, emphasizing the long lines of their legs and the power of his arms. His butt looked fantastic in those suit pants, highlighted by the stretched moves of the tango, plus his masterful turns and power over her movements was so sexual. Tomás seemed to know where the music was taking him; he led Valentina around the floor so effortlessly, slightly frowning as he concentrated and using his strength to support her elongated movements. They moved as one in the high speed sequences, and it was breathtaking.
Thank God Valentina was his sister because if my man—this tall, dark, handsome creature—was holding Julieta or any other beautiful woman close like this, dancing this intimate dance, it would have killed me. The audience, like me, was enthralled. There wasn’t a dry panty in the house I’m sure.
As the dance came to an end with Tomás so completely in control and leading with every movement, I think I might have orgasmed and I don’t think I was the only one. They finished with flourish and everyone rose to their feet and cheered. I wasn’t the only one fanning myself. After today, Tomás Carrera had three hundred new followers in his fan club and this lunch would be a very hard act to follow. I pitied the next two Saints players to attend.
The audience roared for an encore but Tomás apologetically shook his head
and led Valentina back to her seat. Grabbing his jacket and then The Russian by the arm, he excused himself to Loretta and the audience: “We have to go to training,” he explained.
Loretta called for another round of applause for the two Saints players and the roar must have disturbed traffic it was so loud.
Backing out of the room, Tomás glanced in my direction with a look that promised much more to come. With The Russian, he disappeared around the corner of the ballroom and out through the doors. Luckily dessert was served—we all needed some chocolate after that.
Chapter 32
I was walking in the door of my new abode after a long and really good day—the lunch went so well and I was getting more confident in the job every day—when my phone beeped with a text message. I greeted Cassie who was sitting on the couch with her iPad and went to take off my Sasha Saxon original and change into jeans and a sweatshirt. I felt so high; love was amazing—I couldn’t believe only a few days ago I was at rock bottom. Then I remembered I still had to deal with Dane and break the news to him. He had called and left a message today. Sigh.
I grabbed my phone and saw the text was from Dane, damn, just get it over with. I lay on the bed and called him.
“Hi gorgeous, how are you?” Dane said, answering the phone on the second ring.
“I’m good, and you?”
“Missing you,” he said.
Crap.
“I want to see you, so when can we catch up?” he continued.
“Dane, about that...”
There was a noticeable change in the phone atmosphere and I swallowed before continuing.
“This isn’t the part where you say it’s not me, it’s you, is it?” he asked with hesitation in his voice.
