Harley Brennan, Running Back Page 5

  Sarah came in with him. “Where have you been?”

  “I felt like garbage, so I took a nap.”

  “Better now?”

  She nodded. “And starving.” She picked up her utensils and cut a piece of her steak sandwich.

  “Pack your bag,” Sarah said.

  “What?” Sweat broke out under her arms.

  “We’re heading to the Caribbean tomorrow. St. Thomas.” Sarah grinned.

  “Oh, really?”

  “This is where it really gets good. By the way, awesome job on the library. Harley and Cathy went on and on about how beautiful it was. You outdid yourself.”

  “Thanks.” Shy stuffed food into her mouth.

  “Well, I won’t interrupt your dinner anymore. We leave the Inn at nine. See you in the lobby.”

  Shy nodded. Will Harley find my room? Will he come banging on my door? I know he’s mad. After finishing her meal and a small glass of wine, she took a shower and slipped into bed. Fortunately, Harley didn’t show up, and she slept peacefully until seven, about ten minutes before room service arrived with her breakfast.

  * * * *

  Shyla was packed and ready at eight. She took a limo to the plane. Some of the crew was leaving on an earlier flight. Shyla pleaded with Dan that she needed to be there early to get started on the next date. He relented, and she flew out before Harley.

  As the aircraft taxied down the runway for take-off, she sighed, relieved at not having to face the hostile running back. She knew how he hated liars. And that’s what she was, keeping the truth about what program she was working on a secret. He would have popped a vein if he’d known. Would he want her spying on him trying to connect with other women? Not likely.

  It was over anyway, right? He doesn’t care. He’s here to replace me. So, why am I worried?

  Whether she’d admit it or not, Shyla was still in love with Harley Brennan. She’d given up trying to find another man and lived with her broken heart. Knowing she’d been part of the decision didn’t make it easier. She could cozy up to her success at night, but it wasn’t much comfort.

  He’s probably gotten over it. Just annoyed I hadn’t told him the truth. He’s moved on. Got Cathy, Vanessa, maybe even Amber. What does he care for me? She shrugged and closed her eyes, hoping to escape in sleep, as the plane winged its way south.

  Once at the hotel, she unpacked, getting ready for the two-week stint in the sun. The temperature was predicted to range from a low of seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit to eighty-six. Searching, she couldn’t find her bathing suit. Crap! I didn’t pack one. I’ll have to buy one here at three times the price. She frowned, sticking out her lower lip. Shy did find her turquoise beach cover up.

  “Not gonna do me much good without a suit,” she said.

  Since Harley wasn’t arriving until later, with the girls, she was safe to wander. The Sand Dollar hotel, decorated in Caribbean colors of sandy beige, aquamarine, and a warm, light coral, nestled on the shore of Sapphire Bay. It was luxurious, with a large pool, open air dining room, and mammoth hot tub. Her mouth drooled at the idea of swimming then relaxing in the hot water. There was a private suite tucked away on the first floor, with a pool all its own—the location for Harley’s next date. That was her destination, and her job was to make it beautiful. Perfect for Harley to have sex.

  She took out her sketchpad and did some drawings. It was a lovely setting, with lots of green plants, hibiscus, and other flowers in deep pinks, electric oranges, and sunny yellows lining the wide, stone path. Heathy plantings in dark green hugged the perimeter of the pool. The occasional, tiny lizard zoomed by, startling but not scaring her. The small creatures made her laugh, lifting the heaviness from her heart.

  That evening, she ate with the crew. They had a private room at the end of the hall, far from the women and Harley. Shyla prayed he wouldn’t come looking for her. When he didn’t, relief mixed with disappointment. What did you expect?

  She stayed close to her room or Sarah’s, hoping Harley wouldn’t show. She peeked down hallways before entering and prayed the desk clerk wouldn’t give out her room number. Her stomach contracted every time she opened her door. Would Harley sneak up on her? Damn right, he would. He’s probably boiling mad right now. The image of rage turning his face purple made her cringe. Harley had a temper, and she’d do everything possible to avoid a confrontation.

  Still fresh was the memory of her dying his white T-shirts pink in a motel washing machine. He’d had to run out and buy new shirts before he’d left because he swore it would be death to wear those in the locker room. She had laughed, but he hadn’t.

  Emboldened by her successful attempts to avoid Harley, she took a deep breath, relaxed, and made a plan to take a walk by pool. Here she was, in a gorgeous place, like heaven, hiding out inside. Hah! She scoffed at her cowardly ways. He probably doesn’t want to see me any more than I want to see him!

  She opened the side door and strolled toward the windy, cement path that disappeared in a copse of tropical shrubs. Talking aloud, she grinned as she took a deep breath of the sweet air, “Nope. He’s not here. It’s safe. Just me.”

  “Not safe. Not safe for you at all,” said a deep voice behind her.

  Chapter Four

  Shyla gulped air and froze. Yes, it was Harley behind her. She shut her eyes. When I open them and turn around, he won’t be there. It was just my imagination. She opened and turned to find a half-naked Harley Brennan, scowling at her. She didn’t know whether to stare at his bare chest or at his fire-spitting eyes.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I…”

  He raised his hand. “No, don’t answer that. I know what you’re doing here. Designing all the sets. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?”

  “I…”

  “I is not an answer.” He rested his fists on his hips. His stance wide, he glared at her with all the patience of a charging bull.

  “I didn’t mean to lie. I didn’t tell you. That’s not lying, exactly.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I thought we didn’t mean anything to each other anymore, and the job pays a lot, so…”

  “We didn’t mean anything to each other anymore? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve been together.”

  “So?”

  “I just thought you’d be over me by now, and I could do this, stay out of your way. I mean, you’d never know I was here and what would it hurt? I’d get some serious money, and…”

  Again, he raised his palm. “Stop! This isn’t about the money, is it?”

  “Of course, it is,” she said, hiding her crossed fingers behind her back.

  “No, it isn’t. It’s about making sure I don’t find the love of my life, isn’t it? You’re jealous. That’s why you’re here.”

  That idea had never occurred to her. “Absolutely not!”

  “Yes, you are. You’re here to deep-six this whole thing, aren’t you?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing could be farther from the truth.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I don’t know. The money? The prestige?”

  “You look like you’re doing well. Doubt you need the money. Come on, Shy, come clean.”

  “I do need the money. Johnny’s yet to graduate. Dad’s worse than ever.”

  “I told you I’d take care of that.” He stepped over to her, placing his hands on her arms.

  Her skin tingled under his touch. “A loan? Never. Look, forget it. You’ve got your life, and I’ve got my crosses to bear. Anyway, I love what I do. Let’s forget it. Forget we’ve ever seen each other here. Okay?”

  He dropped his arms, his lips melting into a soft frown. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “That’s the way I want it.”

  “Okay. Done. You go your way, and I’ll go mine. But stay out of my way. I’m in this to find a wife. I’m serious, and I don’t nee
d you fucking it up for me.” He did a one-eighty and left.

  Shyla let go of the breath she’d been holding. Her gaze followed him all the way to the door. She sighed, turned, and continued on her walk.

  No more hiding. That’s good, right? If it was so good, how come tears were spilling onto her cheeks? Shyla plopped down on a bench and hiccupped. She could do her job out in the open now and not have to worry about Sarah and Dan finding out that she knew Harley.

  The next day, she hit the gift shop at the hotel. She spent a monstrous amount on a white bikini and returned to her room to map out the strategy for the next romantic venue. By picturing herself on the date with Harley, coming up with original decorations was easy. She did some sketches then sent Bianca to rummage through the large case of fabrics, candles, and other materials they had flown in from L.A.

  After lunch, she nabbed the girl and headed for the private room with a pool. She instructed Bianca how to fasten cellophane over the spotlights, turning the light to a soft blue. She picked up on the water as a theme, using turquoise candles in golden holders.

  As they worked away, she and Bianca got to know each other. The young woman was a design student at Rhode Island School of Design. She’d taken a semester off to do the show, figuring the experience and contacts would be more than worth making up the credits or graduating late. Slim with short, dark hair, she took direction well and looked up to Shyla, which made the designer smile. A mentor? At thirty?

  Once they were finished, Shy showered and changed for dinner. The staff ate in a private dining room in the back while the contestants dined together. Harley took Vanessa on the private, pool date, which included a sumptuous dinner by candlelight.

  Shyla kept busy. She chatted up the crew and scoured the gift shop for a present for Penny. While she was there, three of the women strolled in. They were talking while they browsed, and Shyla listened.

  “Did you hear Helen talking?” said a blonde.

  “You mean about becoming a model? Yeah.” replied a young woman with brown hair.

  “She said getting picked by Harley would be all the introduction she’d need.”

  “Really? So, she wants to win to change careers?”

  “Hell, she’s a waitress. Like he’s going to pick her?”

  “She’s been stealing cocktail hour time with him. I’ve seen her sneak off and interrupt him.”

  “Yeah. Cathy was talking about it. She was steaming.”

  “Helen’s using him.”

  “And you’re surprised? I bet half the women here want something from him.”

  “You mean, outside of his money and fame?” one woman chuckled.

  “Speak for yourself. I’m here to find true love,” the blonde went to the register and paid...

  Helen, huh? Using Harley. What if he picks her, thinking she’s in love with him. I’ve got to warn him. But how? He doesn’t want to talk to me.

  Back in her room, Shyla’s ability to focus on a book evaporated, pushed out of her head by a new obsession—saving Harley from the grasping Helen. She got his room number from Sarah. After slipping a note under his door, she waited by the phone. She flipped the news on the television, stretched out, and fell asleep.

  At one, the chime of her cell woke her. She yawned.

  “Harley?”

  “I told you to leave me alone.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  “About one of the women.”

  “Oh?” The annoyance left his voice, replaced by curiosity. “And what do you know about them? Have you been meddling?”

  “I overheard stuff. I was in the gift shop, getting a present for Penny.”

  “What did you overhear?”

  Shyla sat up and crossed her legs as she recreated the story. He listened.

  “Hmm. Helen, huh? Yeah, I know her. She keeps coming around. The other girls are beginning to get annoyed.”

  “I just thought you should know what her motive is. Why she’s here. What she’s after.”

  “I get it.”

  There was silence.

  “Thanks. Thanks for telling me.”

  “I don’t want you to get taken for a ride, Harley.”

  “No one could give me a ride like you did.”

  “It wasn’t a ride. I meant everything.”

  “I know, I know. Forget it. Thanks again. Gotta go.”

  “Good night,” she said. The set designer pushed up from her bed and padded to the bathroom, where she washed up. After stripping off her clothes, she got under the covers. Falling back to sleep was hard.

  She peeked out the window. Moonlight painted the palm leaves silver. St. Thomas is the most romantic place outside of Paris. The thought of Paris brought her father and brother to mind, and her pledge to keep them afloat until Johnny had an income.

  She closed her eyes and let her brain wander to the secluded condo where Harley would be having dinner with his next date on the morrow. Colors, fabrics, candles, and scents swirled through her head. I’ll pretend he’s having dinner there with me.

  She finally drifted off.

  * * * *

  The idea came upon him slowly. He discarded it at first. She’ll never go for it. But he knew Shyla couldn’t refuse him this one request. It’s cheating, sort of. Was it cheating to know what the girls were really saying? On second thought, he decided it was his right to know.

  That morning, over breakfast in his room, he had made up his mind. He was going to ask Shyla to spy for him. After all, this was the biggest decision in his life, and he needed all the information—true info—he could get. Hell, if a player was careless with a playbook and a member of a rival team got his hands on it, did he turn it in with apologies after not even opening it? No way! He copied every page and turned the copies over to his coach when he returned the book to its rightful owner. Was that cheating? Nah. Just being smart, using all resources at hand, and that’s exactly what he would be doing here.

  Harley waited in the parking lot until Shyla came out. She was surrounded by producers and Bianca, her intern. Harley stood in the shadows of a palm grove, waiting, impatiently, for everyone to buzz off and leave his target alone and defenseless. Finally, they all disappeared, including Bianca, who headed for the limo.

  Harley surfaced.

  “Psst! Psst!” He called to Shyla. She looked around before spotting him by the trees. He motioned her over. Putting an arm over her shoulders, he eased her into the shade. “I need a favor.”

  “A favor? From me? What can I do?”

  “You can spy for me.”

  “What?”

  “Spy for me.”

  “Spy on who?”

  “The women.”

  “Oh, come on. Really? What do you expect me to find out?”

  “Which ones are here for the right reasons and which ones aren’t.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “Because I’m here to find a wife, and I don’t want to get screwed.”

  “If I get caught, I’ll get fired.”

  “You won’t get caught. You’re good.”

  “Why should I?” She put a hand on her hip.

  “Because you owe me.”

  “Owe you for what?”

  “For refusing to marry me.”

  “Did you ask? I’m still waiting to hear a proposal.”

  “Would you accept?”

  “No.”

  “Then why should I propose?”

  “Harley, what do you want from me?”

  “Help in getting the life I want. If you won’t be my wife, the least you can do is help me find a sincere woman who will.”

  She thought for a moment. “Okay. But only when I get a chance, and only if I’m not risking my neck.”

  “Deal.”

  “I’m crazy to get mixed up with you.”

  He grinned that shit-eating, charm-dripping smile that melted her every time. “You know you can’t refuse me.”

  “I
can, but I won’t. You have a point. You’re entitled to a happy life. If it can’t be with me, well, the least I can do is keep you from getting your heart broken.”

  “I knew you’d see it my way.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. But I won’t jeopardize my job.”

  “Wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

  She nodded once and headed for the limo. Harley went back to his room to put on his bathing suit. As he walked down the hall, an uneasiness set in. Was it fair to ask Shyla to help him find a new wife? Probably not. A new comfort level with the show and the process washed through him. He had his spy, guaranteed to weed out fakers.

  He let out a breath. He’d been worried about looking like a fool on television in front of millions of people by falling for a girl who was only taking him for a ride. Now, Shyla would help him. If it can’t be her, then it’s got to be someone else. Behind his rush to couple up was a fear he refused to face. Harley had had about the maximum number of concussions that was safe—if there was such a figure. Too many head injuries would threaten his career in football.

  If he wanted a sexy, beautiful, devoted wife, he’d better find her while he was still at the top of his game. Who knew what could happen next season? Football kept getting rougher and the stakes higher. Delaying securing a solid home life was gambling with his happiness, maybe for years to come. The time was now, and he needed every advantage he could get.

  And now, he’d have it. Shyla was on his team, running interference, blocking for him. He was set. He couldn’t fail. As a good running back does, he’d found the hole in the defense and would run all the way for a touchdown.

  * * * *

  While she was dressing the scene for Harley’s dinner date on the terrace of the condo overlooking the tiny lights of Charlotte Amalie, she confided in Bianca, telling her about Harley’s plan.