Home > The Perfect Play (Play by Play #1)(23)

The Perfect Play (Play by Play #1)(23)
Author: Jaci Burton

“Yeah. Gotta stay in shape for the ladies, don’tcha know.”

Mick snorted. “What you mean is you’ve gotta keep those fine legs in shape for me.”

Randy laughed. “Just don’t tell the ladies, okay?”

Ben came by, leaned over Randy’s treadmill, and punched in some numbers. “Not quite fast enough, pretty boy. You want to keep making the big money on fast legs, then less talking, more running.”

After Ben walked away, Randy said, “It’s like being back in school again. I’m too old for this shit.”

“I don’t hear you sweating enough, Randy,” Ben said from across the room.

Randy rolled his eyes, and Mick laughed.

Mick showered, dressed, and headed toward the front of the gym, when he saw a gorgeous redhead wearing a power suit that was almost but not quite too short to be considered appropriate. Her hair was stylishly swept up, her eyes a witchy green, her heels sinfully high. She looked like sex incarnate—and smiled like she knew exactly how she looked as she leaned against the front counter while she talked on the phone, one hip cocked to the side, seemingly oblivious to the drooling masses of sweaty gym guys who were oh so obviously repeatedly walking by to catch a glimpse of her.

But Mick knew she was anything but oblivious.

Mick’s agent, Elizabeth Darnell, was nothing if not a traffic stopper. She let her shocking good looks get her in the door and reel you in. And then she went in for the kill while your tongue was dragging the floor.

She finished her phone conversation when she saw him heading in her direction, and turned her dazzling smile on him.

“Mick, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Liz, I doubt there’s very little you don’t know.”

She slid her arm in his. “True. Take me to lunch, and let’s chat.”

“Sure.”

They hit a restaurant a few blocks away. Mick was starving after his flogging from Ben, so he loaded up on protein and carbs, while Liz nibbled at a grilled chicken salad.

“You need a cheeseburger,” he said, waving his fork at her pitiful attempts at eating.

“Honey, if I get fat, general managers won’t ogle my legs and my tits. Then who’ll get guys like you multimillion-dollar contracts?”

Mick took a long drink of water. “I’d rather see you eat a cheeseburger.”

She arched a brow, dabbed her oh-so-pretty mouth with her napkin, then pushed her plate to the side. “There’s a Hollywood premiere this week I’d like you to go to.”

“Not interested.”

“You always say that. And then you always go.”

“Still not interested.”

Liz inhaled deeply, as if she were a parent exasperated with a difficult child. He knew she wasn’t trying to impress him with the hint of cle**age on display. Mick didn’t f**k people he did business with, which worked out really well for Liz, too, because she didn’t mix her business with her pleasure either. To Mick, Liz was like a sister—a sometimes extremely annoying sister—who made him a lot of money.

“Mick, it’s summer blockbuster season. People are paying attention to television and magazines and to who’s showing up at these big movie premieres. This would be a great time to make an appearance at one of these huge, moneymaking movies. Cynthia Beaudreaux’s new film releases Wednesday.”

“What kind of movie is it?”

“Romantic comedy.”

Mick bit into a piece of bread. “I like action flicks.”

“But wouldn’t you love to attend the premiere of her movie?”

He’d rather have a root canal. But maybe Tara liked romantic comedies. “Let me check my schedule, and I’ll get back to you.”

Liz arched a brow. “Honey, I’m your schedule. I know every move you make.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t own me, Liz. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you do. You want to manage my career, fine. Don’t think you manage my life. I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”

She picked up her glass of sparkling water, not at all offended. Her life consisted of dealing with athletes with huge egos. He knew it would take a steamroller to stop her.

“Can’t you do that right now?”

“My phone’s in the car.”

“Can’t you go get it?”

“No.”

And Mick had to admit that he enjoyed pissing her off.

She sighed. “You try my patience, Mick.”

“Yeah, but I make you a hell of a lot of money, so you’re willing to put up with me. I’ll call you later tonight, Liz. And then I’ll tell you whether to grab me some tickets for that premiere.”

“I meant for you to take Cynthia Beaudreaux to the premiere of her movie.”

“Doesn’t she already have a date?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she does. I don’t care. I’ll arrange for you to be her date.”

“There you go again, arranging people’s lives for them.”

“For their benefit. For your benefit.”

“If I go to this premiere, it won’t be with Cynthia.”

Liz’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Who will it be with?”

“I’ll bring my own date.”

“That event planner?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“She’s a nobody.”

“But the point of me going to the premiere is for me to be seen and photographed, right?”

She tapped her fingernails on the table. “Yes. But—”

“But nothing. You’ve introduced me to these women for years now, Liz. And the PR has been great. Now and then I’d like to choose my own date, okay?”

She opened her mouth to say something, but the look he gave her made her think twice.

Smart woman. She knew when not to argue. “Call me and let me know what you decide.”

“I’ll do that.”

NATHAN WAS SPENDING THE WEEK AT A FOOTBALL camp. Both teams—JV and varsity—were attending. He’d never been away from her for so long. A few days for school excursions yes, but not all week long. Tara had put him on the bus at five a.m. this morning and tried not to let him see the tears that threatened to fall, knowing he’d be embarrassed. Plus she wanted him to grow up strong and independent, and he certainly was that and more. He’d been so excited about this camp, and she’d scrimped and saved to be able to afford this. She was happy to be able to do it for him. He’d earned it with good grades and doing chores, and if his attitude over the past year hadn’t been spectacular, she’d understood it wasn’t easy being a teenager and starting high school. There were so many pressures on kids these days. She tried to cut him some slack as long as things didn’t get too out of hand. And those pesky hormones accounted for at least some of his Jekyll and Hyde behavior.

   
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