He’d planned to walk her in and kiss her good-night. He’d have settled for just kissing her right there in the cab.
Instead, the opportunity to segue into any kind of a kiss was lost. He slammed his hand onto the torn leather backseat in frustration, then gave the cabbie his address.
The life of an orphan suddenly seemed appealing, he thought wryly.
AFTER LAST NIGHT, AMY realized she needed a new plan of action for Roper, and by the late afternoon, she had one in place.
Still, as she sat at her desk, she couldn’t help but take one last look at the daily papers. The Post lay on top of the pile. Metro Jock Receives Major Shock. The article went on to discuss the frustrating news Roper had received from his doctor and how unconfirmed rumors had him pushing back his start date to weeks after the start of spring training.
She called her secretary on the intercom. “Kelly?”
“Yes?”
“Do me a favor? Please pull all the most recent sightings and blurbs about Roper on the Internet, TV and radio and make sure I have copies before I leave?” She wanted to take a look at where Roper had been when he was sighted and ask him to think about whom he’d spoken to each time. She needed to see if there was a connection or common denominator. Clearly someone was out to punish Roper. But whether it was Buckley or the crazy fan or someone in his personal circle, she had no idea.
“How the hell do they find out about these things?” Amy asked in frustration.
“Good question. I don’t got an answer, either,” Yank Morgan said as he entered her office without knocking, cane in hand, fluffy dog at his side.
“Hi, Yank.”
“Hi, girlie. How are you doin’?”
“Fine if not for these.” She ran her hand over the stack of newspapers. “Did you see that Frank Buckley’s been picked up by satellite radio with a corresponding TV deal? He won’t just be seen and heard in New York. The whole country will get to experience the foul man.”
Yank nodded. “Lola read it to me this morning. Don’t fret about what you can’t change and change what you can. That’s what I always say. In other words, forget about Buckley the Bastard.”
“I would if the media would let me.” She flipped over the paper that had Buckley’s deal on the back and picked up the Daily News. It, too, had a blurb about Roper’s life. “Which metro jock was spotted with his lady of the moment and his famous actress mother at an intimate family dinner at Kelly’s restaurant? Could wedding bells be in the picture for either couple?”
“Argh!” She threw this edition into the trash.
“You must’ve just read the one about dinner. How was it anyway? I’ve been meaning to tell Lola I want to eat there one day soon.”
Amy appreciated the subject change. “Delicious. You’ll enjoy it,” she promised him. “So are we all set?”
“You’re ready to go. Our boy thinks you’re picking him up for a business lunch with me. The limo knows to head straight up to the lodge. Dealing with the fallout is up to you.” Yank let out a loud laugh that startled Noodle from where she’d plopped onto the floor.
“I can handle it,” she said, repeating her new mantra, the one she’d adopted for maneuvering in the Hot Zone world. After all, she could think of many times she’d taken a hard stand with her mother, going so far as to lock her in her own home, just to keep her out of trouble.
“Of course you can. I just came by to wish you luck,” Yank said. He turned, whistled and walked out, dog toddling after him.
Amy gave a silent prayer for success.
Between the stress of Roper’s injury and therapy, the constant fan backlash, his mother’s daily drama and the tracking of his every movement in the paper, Amy knew she was doing the right thing.
She just knew Roper would never see it the same way.
CASSANDRA DEFINITELY NEEDED a new plan of action to avoid Harrison. Running from L.A. hadn’t helped. He’d followed her. She didn’t know how much longer she could continue to convince John to act as a buffer and she knew better than to include Ben again. Harrison had told her Ben wanted to discuss a script with him. Her son was shameless and would use whoever crossed his path. She understood she wasn’t blameless in how Ben had turned out. She’d babied him for too long. But she understood him, too, and she couldn’t just cut him off, which was why she kept turning to her oldest son to help.
But who was going to help her with her director? The man was persistent in the extreme. He wanted her to return to L.A. with him as a couple and he wanted her to take that role. Television. Could she hold her head up in Hollywood after such a huge step down?
Cassandra didn’t know what she feared more, the role he wanted her to play on screen or the part he wanted to play in her life.
CHAPTER TEN
ROPER GLANCED OUT THE tinted window of the car Amy had hired to pick him up and take them for lunch. He still didn’t understand why he couldn’t have just met her and Yank at the restaurant for this sudden meeting, but she’d insisted. Now, as he sat beside her, she remained eerily quiet.
“What restaurant are we going to, anyway?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’m new in the city and I’m bad with names. I can’t remember,” she murmured. Her gaze strayed out the window and she drummed her fingertips on the hard leather armrest beneath the window.
Taking her cue, he sat in silence, watching as the scenery changed from the luxury shops on Madison Avenue to more eclectic scenery as they made their way farther north.
It wasn’t until the driver turned right onto 102nd Street and merged onto FDR Drive that he spoke up. “We’re leaving the city?”
“Looks that way.” She didn’t meet his gaze.
His gut churned with anxiety. He braced his hand on the seat in front of him and leaned forward so the driver would know he was talking to him. “Excuse me, but where are we headed?”
“Upstate,” he said.
“Upstate.” Roper placed his hand on Amy’s jeans-clad thigh.
Faded-jeans-clad thigh, he realized now. Warm, tight yet supple. He shook off those thoughts, reminding himself he was annoyed. He looked her over, from the top of her ponytailed hair to the bottom of her Converse sneakers. Her outfit wasn’t exactly business casual.
“Dammit, Amy. Don’t make me guess.” Because he didn’t like the direction his thoughts were going.
She turned toward him, her knees nudging against him as she moved. “We’re going to the lodge, and before you blow up at me, hear me out.”
He stiffened in shock. “What gives you the right to kidnap me and take me somewhere I explicitly told you I did not want to go?” His anger simmered on low boil. If he’d been with anyone but Amy, he’d have lost it by now.
She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze head-on. Now that he’d been clued in, she was no longer hesitant around him, but was the determined Amy he’d grown to admire.
“Correct me if I’m wrong here, but you have a goal. You want to be ready for spring training as close to the beginning as possible, right?”
He inclined his head, unwilling to give her more than that for the moment.
“In order to get ready, you need not just to be physically ready, but mentally ready.” Her eyes blazed with certainty.
When he didn’t reply, she nudged his leg with hers. “Well?”
“Right,” he muttered.
“Well, as far as I can see, you’re far from being ready either way. If you stay in the city with your mother pulling you into her problems every five minutes, and your sister needing help planning her wedding, and your couch-potato brother hanging over your head and shit arriving at your door—and I mean that literally, as well as figuratively—you’ll never have five free minutes to focus on you.” She poked him in the chest as she spoke.
He shifted in his seat, finding it difficult to argue the point, yet unwilling to concede to her tactics. “So you took it on yourself to bring me to a place where I could get tough for the season.”
; “Yes.”
“Care to tell me where you get off manipulating me?”
“I’m paid to make sure you’re ready. Both Yank and Micki agreed we had no choice.”
His cell phone rang and he grabbed it from his pants pocket.
“Who is it?” Amy asked before he could take the call.
He glanced at the screen. “My brother.”
Taking him off guard, Amy reached out and swiped the phone from his hand. In an instant, she opened the window and threw the device into thin air.
“What the hell?”
Amy’s heart raced a mile a minute. She truly couldn’t blame him for being angry. But with the act of throwing his phone out, her heart pumped faster and more furiously in her chest. She’d scared herself while his face flushed red with anger.
“The Hot Zone will replace it,” she said, repeating what Micki had told her last night when she’d called to support Amy and her plan.
They agreed that given the chance, Roper would use his phone to call and check on his family or let them know where he was. Both women were convinced, though, that once he had the opportunity to unwind and he saw how focused he could be on his career, he’d willingly go along with their plan.
“I don’t believe this.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“Believe it.” Amy turned back toward the window, intending to ignore him.
Reverse psychology. She couldn’t think of another way to work around Roper’s anger. She curled her hands into fists and looked out the window, not really seeing the passing scenery.
“What’s going to stop me from picking up a phone at the lodge and calling someone to come get me?” he asked.
“Nothing except your own common sense. I’m counting on the fact that you want to get healthy enough that you’ll give this experiment a chance. See what relaxing without pressure does for your frame of mind.”
He’d soon discover that his suite had been stripped of a telephone and the staff had been instructed not to give him access to either the house phone or anyone’s personal cell phone. He could definitely find a way to leave or call home if he was downright determined, but it wouldn’t be easy. And Amy hoped that by the time he found the means, he’d no longer have the desire.
She drew a deep, calming breath. “I’m betting that after a few days, you’ll be thanking me for this.”
“Not likely,” he muttered.
“You don’t need to worry about your family,” she reassured him. “Micki is making herself personally available to them for any emergencies. You trust Micki to handle them, don’t you?”
He didn’t reply. Instead he shifted in the seat beside her and exhaled hard. Reverse psychology, Amy reminded herself, pushing aside the gnawing guilt.
Then she followed his lead and ignored him for the rest of the long car ride upstate.
A WOMAN WHO INTRODUCED herself as Lisa, the assistant manager, escorted Roper to his private suite. He wasn’t surprised to see he had a dresser and closet full of his favorite brand of workout clothes, T-shirts and a note assuring him anything else he needed would be provided by the concierge—whom he had to walk downstairs to reach since he had no phone in his room.
The suite had a fully stocked kitchen, including a refrigerator and pantry, along with a set of dishes and utensils for him to use. A quick glance told him the coffeemaker was state-of-the-art and his favorite flavored beans were sitting beside the appliance along with a note.
Relax and enjoy. You need it and so does your career. Courtesy of Athletes Only and the Hot Zone.
On the nightstand, there was a list of restaurants on the premises, a room service card and a printed schedule of activities specifically put together for him. From the daily physical-therapy appointment to the orthopedist on call if there were any problems, to the gym hours and scheduled masseuse, every one of his needs had been taken care of. Despite the fact that it was already past lunchtime, even today had been booked. He had a full afternoon of rehab and relaxation waiting for him.
Obviously he could find someone with a cell phone or grab a ride to town and use a phone, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that Amy had a point.
Though at the moment he was loathe to give Amy credit for anything.
AMY LEFT HER SUITCASE OPEN on the bed and pulled out a swimsuit. She hadn’t had a real swim since leaving Florida, not that she considered an over-chlorinated indoor pool the equivalent of what she was used to, but she’d have to make do. She had a lot of frustration and, yes, guilt, to work out and she knew no better way than a swim.
She changed and headed for the spa and gym area where the pool was located, deciding to leave her captive to his own devices for a while. And since it was winter, and most of the guests were skiing, she had the pool to herself.
She dove in and swam laps, taking the length of the pool with the crawl stroke she’d perfected as a teenager living down south. She made her way through the water, up one end and back down the other, over and over until exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. Satisfied she’d burned calories, as well as nervous, excess energy, she drew herself up and out of the pool.
But she wasn’t ready to head back to her room just yet, so she settled on a chair and relaxed, planning to wander the area and get familiar with the other amenities before going back up to shower and face Roper’s anger over dinner.
As it turned out, he didn’t show up for the reservation she’d booked at one of the lodge’s most exclusive restaurants, nor did she see him for the next three days. She kept track of him via the staff and by checking up on him with the physical therapist and others around the resort, so she knew he hadn’t escaped her so-called prison. She caught glimpses of him wandering the grounds or working out in the gym, but she left him to his own devices, grateful he hadn’t attempted to borrow a phone or hitch a ride home.
She had to admit she was impressed. Even if she was growing increasingly upset and frustrated by his refusal to talk to her at all.
THREE DAYS HAD PASSED SINCE Roper arrived at the lodge. He’d relaxed for the first time in ages, though it had taken a while. He had no idea unwinding from the reality of life could take so long or be so difficult. Hell, he hadn’t even realized how physically and emotionally taxed he’d been until his first massage.
At first, being out of touch from his family had been difficult. He’d worried constantly about his mother and how she was dealing with Harrison Smith. He wondered how many expenses she’d incurred without his sister’s permission in planning the huge wedding. He didn’t worry much about Ben, since without money, his brother was unlikely to get into too much trouble.
After a while, though, a funny thing happened. He stopped thinking about his family’s problems and he started focusing on himself. Not on the negative things, like not returning in time for spring training, but on what he could do to work harder and smarter in order to get back to the game he loved. Without his time being divided, he started to get into the routine set up for him, and he began to see how distracted he’d been before. How much he’d needed this escape.
How right Amy had been.
At first he’d deliberately avoided her, missing planned meals out of spite, wanting to make a point that he might have chosen to stay here but he was still in charge. He justified his actions by telling himself that he was just doing as she’d instructed, thinking only of himself for a change. Which he was. Yet he’d catch her watching him through the gym windows or eating with some of the guests she’d obviously met during her time there. He knew she was giving him space just as he knew he was being childish by avoiding her.
He waited for her at lunch at her normal time. When she didn’t show up, he asked Lisa about her. The woman told him Amy wasn’t feeling well. She was laid up with a cold and said she’d be in her room if he needed anything. He didn’t need anything, he was just starting to miss her.
Hell, he’d missed her from the minute he’d shut her out. But if she wasn’t
feeling well, he doubted she’d want to see him, so he had chicken soup sent to her room with a Feel Better note that he signed himself.
The next day, she was still out of commission. When he called, she told him that she felt awful and didn’t want to give him her cold, so it was better he not stop by. He sent the doctor over instead, but respected her wishes and stayed away. Her cold lasted another three days.
In the meantime, he worked out, relaxed and fell into bed exhausted at night, earlier than he was used to. He woke each day feeling refreshed and ready to start over again. And he began to sense that his body was responding to routine, consistency and lack of stress.
Everything was progressing well. The only thing missing was Amy, and he figured by tomorrow, she’d either come out or he was barging in. After this past week, he’d come to the definite realization that if he was going to remain here next door to the woman he wanted more with each passing day, he was damn well going to do something about it.
His scheduled routine was finished for the day and he eased his aching body into the warm, bubbling water of the hot tub, soaking and unwinding. Every time he began to wonder how his family was doing or what their reactions were to not being able to reach him on demand, he pushed the thought out of his mind. He’d become an expert at it, and with each passing day, the guilt lessened. Amy was right—he trusted Micki to handle them. If a true emergency had cropped up, he’d have heard. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back and thought about absolutely nothing.
Much too soon, a female voice broke into his blessed silence.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked.
He forced his heavy eyelids open to see a gorgeous woman in a tiny string bikini sinking into the tub as if his answer was a foregone conclusion. Since he didn’t own the rights to its usage, he supposed it was.
Her chocolate-brown hair screamed perfect dye job and her wide smile indicated perfection. Celebritylike perfection. Everything about her seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place her name.
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