Field of Pleasure (16 page)

H
is arms folded across his chest, Jared tilted the chair back until it hit the edge of the table behind him. Secluded in the darkened film room, he studied the video from yesterday's practice with single-minded focus, determined to correct every misstep he'd made on the field. He had a hard time spotting any.

For the past two weeks, every ounce of his concentration had been on the game. He ate, slept and breathed football, pouring over playbooks and notes back from his college days, and studying every frame of film from every single professional game he'd ever played.

He was the first player to make it to the field house in the morning, running sprints, lifting weights, doing his damnedest to block out everything but the game. His only goal was making sure he remained the starting cornerback for the New York Sabers.

It was time he started taking care of his damned self.

He'd spent his entire life going to bat for everyone
else, and where the hell had it gotten him? Right where he was, sitting in a dark room alone, with nothing but his skills on the football field to count on.

Jared sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, willing his mind to focus on the projector screen. He wouldn't think about the special boot camp taking place for the five newest rookies on the Sabers squad, and how during yesterday's drills, Delonte Cannon had finally cracked under the pressure. He didn't want to retain his starting position because of someone else's mistakes. He wanted to keep it because he was the best man for the job.

He wouldn't think about the magazine cover he'd spotted at a newsstand this morning with a picture of Samantha flashing a rock the size of a golf ball. He was done with that. Finally,
irrevocably
done.

His newfound armor of resolve would be impenetrable if not for the one person who continued to invade his mind. No matter how hard he tried, Jared could not shake the memory of the last time he'd seen Chyna. Visions of the pain that had clouded her face when she'd asked if she had only been a distraction for him. The virulence in her eyes when he gave her the deed to the dance school.

Buying the school had been a bad move. He realized that now. For the past two weeks the argument had played back and forth in his mind, and Jared had finally started to see things from her perspective.

Chyna wasn't the type of woman who sat back and waited for someone to come to her rescue. She was strong, independent. He hadn't considered how she would see the gift he'd purchased for her, but if he'd taken the time to think about it, he could have anticipated that she'd react exactly as she had.

That self-reliant streak of hers was one of the things that he'd had the hardest time accepting in the beginning
of their relationship, yet it was the thing he'd come to respect most about her. So why in the hell had he thought she'd fall into his arms with gratitude when he'd handed her the deed to that school?

Jared ran a hand down his face, throwing his head back with a harsh sigh.

He knew why he'd assumed she'd be overwhelmed with appreciation, but the answer was too harsh to face, the truth too pathetic to swallow. He'd expected it because it's what he needed her to do in order to make
him
feel worthwhile.

Looking at himself with an ice-cold eye, Jared questioned his motivation for every good deed he'd done over these last few years. The reflection that mirror presented weighed in his stomach like an anvil. He was always so damned concerned with playing the part of the hero—the one who could be counted on to take care of everyone else—that it had started to define him. It's why he'd stayed with Samantha for so long. She'd fed his desire to be the caregiver.

But he didn't have to be that person with Chyna. Chyna wanted him for
him,
not for what he could provide for her.

He had to get her back. It couldn't be too late.

Jared powered down the projector system, knocking over his chair in his haste to leave. He walked out of the film room and found Randall leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway, arms crossed and a frown furrowing his brow. Jared paused at the sight of his teammate, then started for the exit doors.

“So you gonna just keep ignoring me?” Randall called after him.

“Damn right,” Jared said. He would have continued down the corridor, but Randall caught his elbow, halting
his forward motion. Jared jerked his arm away. “I'm warning you, Randall. Stay the hell away from me.”

“Man, I told you I was sorry. I never would have said anything to her if I had known it was that serious between the two of you.”

“You shouldn't have said anything. Period,” Jared bit out. “Just because you jump from one bed to another, it doesn't mean that's how everyone else wants to live their life.” He took a menacing step forward, pointing a finger at Randall's chest. “From now on, stay the hell out of my business.”

He pushed past his teammate and stalked out of the building. Jared continued to seethe as he stormed across the parking lot toward his car.

“Jared! Wait up!” he heard Torrian's voice call.

He continued walking, pretending he hadn't heard him, but his friend caught up to him before Jared reached his car.

Jared swore under his breath. “Whatever it is will have to wait, Wood. I've got something I need to do.”

“Yeah, like get your ass back in there.” Torrian blew out a ragged breath. “Your phone's about to ring with a call from Tom Rutledge.”

The Sabers' general manager? What the hell?

“If this is about my performance when camp first started, I would think I've made up for it these past two weeks,” Jared said.

Torrian was shaking his head. “It's not about that.” He paused. “They know about you being at the Rio in Atlantic City on Super Bowl Sunday. It's proof that you violated your agreement with the team.”

 

Chyna watched the time in the bottom right-hand corner of her computer screen click from 8:58 to 8:59 p.m. She'd vowed two hours ago that she would not put
in another fourteen-hour workday, but unless a fairy godmother floated from the sky and magically completed the report that was due tomorrow, her vow would be broken for the third night in a row. Twenty minutes later, Chyna emailed the report to her supervisor and turned the lights off in her starkly furnished office.

She'd often wondered why Darla's office was so bare. She now realized that the woman most likely couldn't find a spare minute to decorate. Chyna grimaced at the plant she'd brought for her desk the day she moved into her new office. The leaves were curling in on themselves and browning at the edges, but she was too tired to worry about watering it.

She locked up her office and moved sluggishly down the quiet corridor. Just the thought of being back here in a little over eight hours made her want to throw up her dinner…if she'd had the time to eat dinner.

If there was one silver lining to this storm cloud that had become her life, it was that the subway trains wouldn't be as crowded as they were during evening rush hour. She made it to Bay Ridge just before ten o'clock. She thought about stopping in at the deli a block away from the train station, but waved off the idea. She had cereal at home. Hopefully, the milk wasn't spoiled.

Chyna walked up to her building and stopped cold. Liani was sitting on the stoop, reclining on her elbows as if she belonged there. Her friend nodded to the briefcase Chyna held.

“So, this is how you're spending your time these days?” she asked.

Ignoring the sarcasm, Chyna asked, “How long have you been here?”

Liani shrugged. “I came around eight-thirty. I figured that would give you enough time to wind down from your
workday, but wasn't so late to where you'd have already gone to bed. Guess I was off by a few hours.”

“I'm sorry. This new job is kicking my butt,” Chyna said, climbing the stairs and unlocking the front door to her building.

“You don't have to tell me that. It's written all over your face,” Liani commented, falling in step with her as she marched up to her apartment. “How much sleep are you getting?”

“Don't ask,” Chyna muttered.

She opened the door and was greeted by an overly excited Summer who pranced around as if she were walking on hot coals. Chyna tossed her briefcase on the coffee table and collapsed onto the futon. Looking over at Liani, who'd stopped just inside the door, she said, “I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to return your calls.”

The apology was way overdue. At first, Chyna had been too overwrought to discuss the Jared situation with Liani, but it soon became a matter of not having enough time in the day to breathe. Her new position at Marlowe and Brown consumed her every waking moment.

Summer leaped onto her lap and yipped, her tiny rear end wiggling.

“I think that dog needs to go out,” Liani said.

“I've asked her to go on the floor. It's easier to just clean up after her than to walk down three flights, around the block and back up again.”

Chyna pushed up from the futon with a groan and grabbed Summer's leash from where it hung on a nail next to the door. The three of them trekked down the stairs and started on a casual stroll around the block.

“So?” Chyna asked. “Is this our girl's night out?”

“Not exactly,” Liani said. “I'm here to plead on behalf of someone else.”

Chyna glanced over at her, not liking the vibe she was getting from her friend. Then realization dawned. “If Jared sent you here, you can just go.”

“He didn't. Randall did.”

“Oh.” Chyna let out a hollow laugh. “Believe me, mentioning
that
name won't help your case, either. Do you know he's been calling my job? No matter how many times I ask the receptionist not to put his call through, she still does. It's as if it's impossible to say no to Randall Robinson.”

“He's kind of hard to resist,” Liani mumbled.

“What are you talking about?” Chyna asked.

“Look, Chyna, the fact that Randall even approached me is so much bigger than you can possibly realize. He and I have this unspoken agreement never to interact with each other in any way, shape or form. Not since last season…when…” Liani didn't continue, just regarded her with an uneasy glance before staring at something on the sidewalk.

The truth hit Chyna like a sledgehammer. “You mean it was
him? Randall Robinson
is the Saber you slept with?” Chyna screeched.

“Should I just put it on the JumboTron in Times Square?” Liani said in a terse whisper, glancing at the people they'd just passed sitting on another building's stoop.

“Sorry,” Chyna apologized. “He just doesn't seem like your type.”

“He's not,” Liani protested. “It was one enormous, gigantic,
humongous
mistake. For both of us.”

Chyna regarded her friend, her curiosity getting the best of her. “What happened that weekend, Liani? You never told me.”

“It's not important.”

“Yes, it is. You haven't been the same since.” Chyna reached over and took her friend's hand, giving it a concerned squeeze. “Talk to me.”

Liani sucked in a deep breath and expelled it with a weary sigh. “It was the night before the Sabers played the San Francisco 49ers,” she started. “I wasn't even scheduled to travel with the Saberrettes for that game, but one of the girls got sick. Randall found me in the hotel bar that night. I'd just gotten off the phone with my mom, so you can imagine where my head was at the time.”

Chyna had an idea. Liani's relationship with her mother gave new meaning to the word
complicated
.

“I guess he noticed that I was upset. We started talking, and one thing led to another. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in his hotel bed the following morning.”

Chyna's head reared back in surprise. “Wow,” she said, a bit stunned. “This just seems so out of character. You don't do indiscriminate sex.”

“I know. That's why I told him to just forget it ever happened.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because,” she said, as if that was answer enough. Chyna motioned for her to continue. “What?” Liani choked out. “Are you kidding me? Randall and I are so incredibly different. It's crazy to even think of us together.”

“It cannot be that crazy,” Chyna opined. “There must have been something there, some spark of attraction between you two. If there wasn't, you never would have slept with him in the first place.”

“It was a mistake,” Liani insisted. “Randall and I both agreed that it was just one huge mistake.”

“Did he agree, or did you make the choice for the
both of you?” Chyna asked, thinking that her friend was protesting a bit too much for someone who didn't care.

Liani shot her an irritated look. “Randall and I are…we're not even on each other's radar screens, so the fact that he came to me should give you an indication of how serious this is. It's killing him that he's caused so much strife for you and Jared. He said the whole distraction thing was his idea, and that Jared was
never
comfortable with it. He even admitted that he told Jared to go for someone else when you first turned him down, but Jared wouldn't.”

Chyna paused. “Randall said that?”

“Yes, the jerk.” Liani shook her head. “You know, you are
so
right. He is totally not my type. Who in their right mind would want to be with an arrogant man whore? I mean, he—”

“Hello,” Chyna said, cutting her off. “We're back to talking about me now, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Liani said. “So, are you going to talk to Jared? Apparently, he has completely shut himself off from the rest of the team since the two of you broke up.”

“I don't know,” Chyna said, her heart constricting at the thought of him being miserable. But it started pumping like an oil well at the thought of contacting him.