Match Me if You Can (No Match for Love Book 7)

by Lindzee Armstrong

  The doorman verified their credentials, then led them into an elevator. The attendant inserted a key and selected the penthouse. Wyatt swallowed, trying not to fidget uncomfortably as soft jazz music played in the background.

  The elevator pinged open, and Wyatt and Bobby stepped into a ten-by-ten entryway with twelve-foot high ceilings. White marble flooring sparkled under the chrome and glass chandelier above them.

  “Welcome. Mr. Ryder has been alerted to your arrival.”

  Wyatt didn’t jump at the cool feminine voice that surrounded them from all sides, unsurprised by its presence. Of course Luke would have Talia, the home automation system that had made him a billionaire, in his own home.

  Bobby stared at the glass-fronted double doors. “Do we knock?”

  Wyatt shrugged. Before he could speak, the doors swung open.

  A woman stood before them in stockinged feet and a pencil skirt. Her chestnut-colored hair with golden highlights hung around her shoulders, and her stomach held the slightest roundness underneath her silk blouse. When she smiled, her entire face lightened.

  “Wyatt,” Brooke said, pulling the door open wider and standing aside. “I’m so glad you could come.”

  “Thank you for inviting us.” He stepped inside and motioned to Bobby. “You remember my agent?”

  “Of course.” Brooke held out a hand, and Wyatt realized that Bobby and Brooke were nearly the same height. “It’s so nice to see you both again.”

  She motioned for them to follow her, and Wyatt stared in awe as they made their way through the house. Everything screamed wealth, from the ten-foot tall heavy wood doors in a bright white to the plush gray carpet.

  “Luke had to take a phone call, but he’ll be out any minute now,” Brooke said over her shoulder. “I’ve got Bryan in the kitchen stirring the sauce.”

  Bryan … Bryan … Wyatt almost laughed when he realized she was referring to Coach McKinley. He’d watched the coach, both on television and at games, and couldn’t imagine him as anything but fierce. He wondered what had made McKinley join the Coyotes. Blackmail, same as Wyatt?

  “You’ve got a beautiful home.” Wyatt fought the urge to wipe his sweaty palms on his slacks. Why couldn’t he be cool in social situations?

  “Thanks,” Brooke said. “I’m excited for the new house, but it’ll be hard to leave this one.”

  “Oh, you’re moving?”

  “Yeah, construction should finish in another few months. We want our kids to grow up with lots of space to run and play.”

  Brooke stepped off the plush carpet of the living room and onto weathered gray barn wood. The kitchen was wide and open, with tall cabinets and lots of counter space. Wyatt barely held back a laugh when his eyes landed on McKinley. Coach had a lavender apron tied around his waist, and the ruffles at the bottom barely brushed the tops of his thighs.

  Brooke smiled at McKinley. “Thank you, Bryan. I can take it from here.”

  “Sure I can’t help you with anything else?” McKinley asked, handing the metal whisk over to Brooke.

  “I’ve got it. You boys go socialize.” She made a shooing motion. “Dinner’s almost finished anyway.”

  Coach McKinley turned toward Wyatt, arms folded across his broad chest. He had to be close to six and a half feet tall, and his shoulders were as broad as any linebacker’s.

  Wyatt took a step forward and extended his hand. He cleared his throat, trying to project an outward calm. “Coach McKinley. It’s an honor to officially meet you, sir.”

  McKinley took Wyatt’s hand and pumped it up and down, his grip strong. “We’re excited to have you join the Coyotes.”

  “I’m thrilled to be here.”

  “It’s a new era for the team,” McKinley said confidently. “We’ll get you that ring before retirement, don’t you worry.”

  Wyatt coughed in surprise. McKinley folded his arms again and kept his gaze steady.

  “You’ll love the guys on the team,” Brooke broke in. “Bryan was kind enough to introduce us to everyone about a month ago.”

  Wyatt smiled blandly. Of course the guys were on their best behavior around the new owner and his wife. What happened in the locker room would give Wyatt a true feel for his new teammates. At least this time, one very important detail would be different—Wyatt wouldn’t have a girlfriend for the quarterback to steal.

  “The rolls have now achieve their optimal internal temperature,” Talia said, her cool voice echoing throughout the kitchen. “Please remove them from the oven.”

  “I didn’t expect to be treated to a home cooked meal tonight.” Bobby rubbed his hands together. “It smells delicious.”

  “Thanks. I try and keep things as normal as possible at home.” Brooke set the rolls on top of the counter, then returned to briskly stirring whatever was in the pan on the stove.

  “Are you sure we can’t help with anything?” Wyatt asked.

  She flashed him a smile. “It’s sweet of you to offer, but I think I’ve got it. As soon as Luke is here, I’ll have him pull the chicken cordon bleu and au gratin potatoes out of the oven.”

  Wyatt’s mouth watered as the yeasty scent of the rolls filled the kitchen. He hadn’t had a home cooked meal since visiting his family over Christmas. In San Antonio, a nutritionist provided all his meals—part of his contract with the Vigilantes—but she’d never provided anything particularly tasty. Hopefully his nutritionist here would be more concerned with taste.

  “Are you trying to slow Wyatt here down in the games?” McKinley asked, but his tone was light.

  Brooke laughed. “One good meal won’t kill either of you. Tomorrow you can go back to counting macros or whatever it is you guys do.”

  McKinley held up two fingers. “Two rolls, James. Fill up on the protein.”

  Wyatt nodded. “You’ve got it, Coach.”

  Brooke pulled the hot rolls off the pan and dropped them into a basket. Luke appeared in the kitchen then. He’d discarded his suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his light green button-down shirt.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, extending a hand to both Wyatt and Bobby. “Welcome to our home. We’re so glad you could come.”

  “It’s an honor, Mr. Ryder,” Wyatt said, shaking his hand.

  “Please, call me Luke.” He clapped Wyatt on the shoulder. “I’m so excited to have you here.”

  “I’m excited to be here,” Wyatt lied. Something in the tone of Luke’s voice made him nervous.

  Luke dropped a hand to Brooke’s back and leaned down, kissing her neck. She smiled, her shoulders hunching forward as though hiding a shiver. Wyatt looked away, feeling like he was intruding on a private moment. What would it be like to have such an obviously loving relationship?

  You’re staying single, he reminded himself. He wasn’t going to let a woman ruin his career anymore than one already had.

  Soon they were all sitting at the dining room table, plates piled high with the delicious scents. Wyatt took a bite of his chicken, lightly covered in the sauce Brooke had been stirring, and barely held back a groan.

  “This is fantastic,” he said.

  Brooke’s cheeks pinked and she smiled. “Thank you. My job doesn’t leave a lot of time to cook, but I enjoy it when I can.”

  That’s right. Brooke was a matchmaker at Toujour. She’d matched Tamera up with Luke. Luke, the new owner of the Coyotes. Tamera, the girl Wyatt couldn’t seem to get out of his head. He was dying to ask about Tamera, but that would seem beyond weird.

  “This really is a treat,” McKinley agreed. Wyatt noticed that while he was only allowed two rolls, the coach had snagged three for himself.

  “So, Wyatt,” Luke broke in. “Did you sell your home in San Antonio? You mentioned it was on the market last time we spoke.”

  “I did.” He’d signed the papers the day he met Tamera, in fact, which was why he’d spent the night at a hotel. Letting the home go wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be. It felt good to rid himself of the bad Becky memories
there. “I’ve already got a real estate agent lined up to help me look for a new place here.”

  “Good. We hope you’ll be in California for a long time.” Luke grabbed a roll and buttered it. “Did you know my dad always wanted to buy the team?”

  Wyatt wiped at his mouth with a napkin. Luke’s father had founded Ryder Communications and made it a household name before succumbing to lung cancer a few years earlier. “I knew he bought the Lakers, but didn’t realize he liked football, too.”

  “Even more than basketball probably.”

  Brooke reached across the table and grasped Luke’s hand, giving him a smile so full of love it made Wyatt’s insides ache. “Luke was so excited when the chance to buy the team came up.”

  Wyatt nodded, not sure what he was supposed to say. Where was this going?

  “It’s not exactly a secret that the Coyotes have struggled the past few years,” Luke continued.

  “Not anymore.” McKinley brushed roll crumbs off his graying mustache. “We’ve got some good new recruits, and Schroeder’s a decent enough quarterback when his ego doesn’t get in the way. You’re joining a brand new team, Wyatt.”

  “One that’s going to win the championship,” Luke cut in. “Ticket sales have suffered the last few years because the team hasn’t performed well. And because there aren’t fans cheering them on from the stands, the team’s morale suffers and they play even poorer.”

  “It’s a vicious cycle,” McKinley agreed. “A stadium’s energy can make or break a game.”

  “Which means it’s time to rally fan support.” Luke leveled a gaze at Wyatt. “You’re the start of that.”

  Wyatt’s stomach felt like a football had just been inflated inside it. The food soured in his mouth, and he set down his fork. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “You’re new blood,” Luke said. “The fans have already lost faith in most of our existing players, and the new recruits don’t have any public support yet. But when news broke of your trade, the internet practically danced.”

  Wyatt tried not to let his panic show. He didn’t want attention. He wanted to lay low.

  Luke leaned forward, staring at Wyatt across the table. “The press conference today has already gotten a really positive response. We want to capitalize on that by running a few different television commercials and print ads. Really get people excited to see you play this season. The PR department thinks it’ll drive ticket sales.”

  It was a good thing Wyatt didn’t have food in his mouth right then, because he would’ve choked. “You want me to do a TV commercial?”

  Bobby shot Wyatt a warning look. “This is great news. Wyatt’s an excellent choice.”

  Of course Bobby was happy about this. Per Wyatt’s contract with the Coyotes, the additional promotion would pad his paycheck nicely—and, by extension, Bobby’s.

  “I’m not exactly great in front of the camera,” Wyatt admitted. He knew the excuse was lame even as it left his mouth. He’d seen himself in interviews, and stiff was a nice way of putting things. The effortless way Tamera had handled the camera on Eye in the Sky was an impossibility for someone like him.

  Luke waved a hand dismissively. “We can work with that.”

  Wyatt doubted very much an acting coach—even one as talented as good as Tamera—would help. But only an idiot would refuse a direct request from the team owner. So Wyatt forced himself to speak through his tight throat.

  “Okay then. I’m in.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tamera looked around the crowded room of thin women with perky chests and California suntans, suddenly feeling very unsure of herself. She tightened her grip on her purse strap as her heartbeat quickened. There had to be twenty women in here, all as eager to be cast in the role as she was.

  A woman with perfect blonde beach waves glared at Tamera, like her presence in the room was a personal insult. Tamera dropped her hand from the purse strap and raised her chin. She might never have been cast in a movie, but she had been cast on a reality television show and made it to the top four. That had to count for something. She belonged here as much as any of these women.

  She checked in at the metal desk manned by a cranky grandma with a silver beehive hairdo, then took an empty seat near the door that she assumed led to the audition room. Time to harness the negative energy and turn it into something positive, just like she had on Eye in the Sky. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, imagining how good it would feel to win when everyone was rooting for her to fail.

  Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she pulled it out to find a text from Drew.

  Good luck.

  Thanks. I’m so nervous!

  Did you even see yourself on EITS? You’ll do great.

  Tamera had seen herself on Eye in the Sky—had watched the entire season as soon as she got home after the finale. It was hard to view herself objectively. The diary room interviews where she cried about Caleb and Katie were particularly excruciating to watch. Drew’s scheming—and the realization he’d throw her under the bus to save his own game—hadn’t been easy to see, either. But whatever. That was the game, and Drew was proving to be a pretty good friend outside of the Eye in the Sky house.

  “Tamera Hadley.”

  It was go time. An image flashed unexpectedly into her mind of Wyatt crouched beside her on the gym floor, asking if she was okay. His quiet, comforting presence would be nice right about now.

  Ridiculous. She shoved her phone back in her purse and followed the thin boy who had to be an intern—was he even out of high school yet?—through the magical door that turned unknown actors and actresses into household names.

  “Good luck,” he said in a flat monotone before closing the door behind her.

  She bit back the words on the tip of her tongue—a very sarcastic thanks for the encouragement. Why had she thought she could be an actress? Right now, she was most definitely vomit-level nervous. And wouldn’t that make a great internet meme?

  She stepped further into the room and fought the urge to blink against the florescent lights that shone down on her. The room was smaller than the one she’d just left and a rectangular table was the only furnishing. It held a round tray, piled high with empty plastic bowls.

  A man with stringy hair and glasses that had slid to the end of his nose stared at her with disinterest from where he sat on a padded chair against one wall. A plump middle-aged woman with eyebrows that seemed raised in permanent surprise sat beside him, and a tall man with a scar through one eyebrow leaned against the wall.

  Yup. She definitely felt like puking.

  “Name?” Glasses asked. He didn’t bother introducing himself, but she figured he was the casting director.

  “Tamera Hadley. I’m auditioning for the part of waitress.” She was proud of how steady her voice sounded.

  Glasses grunted and motioned vaguely to the table, like he’d already lost interest. “Ames will read the part of Daniel opposite you. Whenever you’re ready.”

  Ames pushed off the wall, everything from his relaxed posture to his unfocused eyes screaming boredom. He’d probably been reading these same five lines for the past five hours. Tamera didn’t recognize him, which meant he was probably not the actor cast in the lead role. Her agent had explained that leads didn’t waste their time reading lines with unknown hopefuls auditioning for inconsequential parts.

  Ames didn’t even bother making eye contact as he slunk to his mark. But that was time. She would blow them all away with her performance—force them to wake up and take notice of her.

  A familiar steely determination washed over Tamera. Her muscles relaxed and head cleared, just like before a Head Honcho competition. She took one deep, steadying breath, allowing time to slow down. Then she picked up the tray and got to work.

  The ache of Caleb and Katie’s betrayal and the stress of the last month disappeared as Tamera stepped into the role of waitress and became someone else. By her second line, Ames’ body language had gone from bored to ale
rt. His movements were purposeful now, his eyes intense and each line delivered with precision. She felt the chemistry change in the room as Glasses and Eyebrows perked up, their hands still on their clipboards as they paid attention to her performance.

  A heady sense of freedom eclipsed all her fears, and Tamera gave herself over to the role. This overpowering liberation was why she loved acting so much. It was what had made playing Eye in the Sky so intoxicating.

  When Tamera finished, she set her tray on the table with a flourish and turned for her critique.

  “Well then.” Glasses shuffled through a stack of papers, obviously searching for her file. “What did you say your name was?”

  She struggled to keep a smile from overtaking her face. Now he was interested. “Tamera Hadley.”

  “Here you are.” He flipped open the folder and peered at it. “You were a contestant on Eye in the Sky?”

  Don’t be ashamed of your work experience. That was the first thing her agent had coached her on. Yes, she’d never had a part in more than a high school play. But four months of being on camera twenty-four hours a day was more experience than most actresses had in years.

  “That’s correct,” Tamera said. “I spent ninety-one days in the house and made it to the final four.”

  “Very impressive. What other experience do you have with acting?”

  She cleared her throat, fighting to keep her tone unapologetic. “I played Abigail in The Crucible my senior year.”

  His eyes flicked back to the file, flipping through the pages. “Yes, I see that here. What about film?”

  His disinterest was showing again. Tamera tried not to panic. “I’ve been on five national talk shows in the past month, discussing my time on Eye in the Sky.”

  “But no movies.” She knew it wasn’t a question, and he let out a hmmm.

  “She’s represented by Hershel Clark,” the woman said, speaking for the first time. Tamera felt her heart leap, and sent the woman a grateful look.

  “Yeah, it’s in her file,” Glasses said, not seeming impressed.