Hot Property (32 page)

AMY COULDN’T BELIEVE HER
luck. Yank had arranged for an entire day’s worth of activities for her family. Curly, one of his and her uncle Spencer’s poker buddies, was taking some relatives into town to see the sights and they asked Amy’s mother and aunt to join them. Amy showered, dressed and headed for work, determined to forget the events of last evening.

She cringed, her stomach cramping at the memory. She wondered what her father would think of last night’s episode. Pushing those thoughts aside, she collected her notepad and pen and headed for the conference room for the weekly meeting. The room filled up quickly, everyone present and accounted for.

As usual, Yank called the Hot Zone meeting to order. Amy, having already learned the drill, remained standing, hands and coffee off the table until he slammed down the gavel. Then she seated herself and prepared for the list of new assignments.

Yank’s first words weren’t about business per se. “We’re gonna have a firm party at one of the upstate country clubs,” he announced without preamble. “It’ll be before the start of baseball season and after the NFL

draft, so nobody can make excuses. Micki’s got media lined up and we’re gonna make a splash just because we can,” he said proudly.

“Everyone needs to be there.”

“This is going to be an annual event,” Annabelle said. “We have corporate sponsors who want to meet our clients. It’s a win-win for everyone. Date to follow soon.”

“Amy and Spencer, be sure your family’s back home before then.

Otherwise we might have a bomb scare,” Yank said, laughing.

Amy cringed.

Until her uncle added, “Similar to the fire drill you arranged New Year’s Eve?”

Then Amy laughed.

“He’s blamin’ a blind man for trippin’ over his dog! Can you believe that?” Yank asked, rising from his chair.

“I’m blaming you for being a klutz. Being blind’s got nothing to do with it,” Spencer said.

“Here they go again,” Micki whispered to Amy, leaning close. She grabbed the gavel from her unsuspecting uncle’s hands and rapped it on the rubber mat. “Move it along,” she ordered.

The men sat down, obeying her without question. Another half hour passed with routine business until Frannie burst into the room without knocking. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, huffing and out of breath.

“But I have news that can’t wait.”

Amy’s stomach churned. She had a distinct feeling of déjà vu, taking her back to her first meeting in this room.

“Let’s hear it,” Yank said.

“Well, I need to see Amy privately,” Frannie said, suddenly realizing all eyes were on her.

Now Amy’s stomach churned again, but for good reason. Frannie wasn’t the type to get so worked up. This must really be something.

Amy rose from her seat, but Micki placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We’re family here. Nobody is in this room except Uncle Yank, Spencer, myself, my sisters and Amy. We want to help.”

Amy sat down again.

Frannie nodded. She leaned forward until she was between Amy and Micki. “There’s something on the Internet Amy needs to see.

Nobody else should see it,” Frannie said.

That was the moment Amy realized her uncle’s secretary had a laptop beneath her arm. She placed it on the table, opened it and Amy immediately recognized the banner for Buckley’s blog on the top of the screen.

Everyone in the room was silent, obviously recognizing something huge was going on. Amy had never been so sick in her life.

“Ready?” Frannie asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Amy muttered.

She scrolled down slowly until the headline caught Amy’s eye.

Roper Bares All.
Panic rose in her throat as she tried to concentrate on the words. The effort to understand what she was seeing was futile until she saw
her
own name posted along with Roper’s.

A prominent link promised to lead to “an eyeful.”

She clicked.

She looked.

And she immediately wished she hadn’t.

Her hands began to sweat because somehow, there were photographs of Amy and Roper—
naked
on the Internet.

Having sex.

She ordered herself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

Think.

She peeled open her eyelids and looked again. Thanks to the unbelievable angle of the bodies on screen, Amy tipped her head to the side to get a better glimpse.

“When did you get a tattoo?” her uncle Spencer asked from behind them.

“I didn’t!” she said tightly, jumping up from her seat, nearly knocking everyone behind her over in her effort to escape the sudden stifling feeling surrounding her.

“Take it easy,” Micki said, grabbing her wrist. “They’re obviously doctored, so breathe. We’ll figure something out.”

Everyone around her spoke, but she couldn’t hear anything beyond the ringing in her ears. It didn’t matter that the body on the screen wasn’t really hers. It was her face. And nobody who viewed this photograph would know or care that it wasn’t really Amy and Roper doing the deed.

She knew her business. Perception was everything. Thanks to her relationship with Roper, she’d been violated in the most extreme and demeaning way and there was nothing she could do about it.

Tears filled her eyes, along with impotent frustration. She’d felt like this once before. Memories of her mother being photographed as Lady Godiva came back to her vividly. Guilt by association had damned her in the eyes of her employers and made her a laughingstock in the community. She’d let herself down, but worse, she felt her father’s disappointment keenly. Amy had coped by withdrawing deeper into her mother’s world, doing her best to help them control their behavior.

Without others to judge her, she’d been able to live with the insanity.

But here in New York, she couldn’t hide the same way. She hadn’t signed up for the privilege of being in the public eye. Nor did she want it.

The price was too high.

She jerked away from Micki, her uncle and everyone else calling her name and headed to find the one person she could vent on. The person who’d caused this mess, intentionally or not.

To her surprise, Amy didn’t have to go far to find Roper. He was waiting in her office.

ROPER HAD RECEIVED
enough phone calls and e-mails about the Internet photos to know he’d better reach Amy before she had a chance to build up emotional walls against him.

She burst into the room quickly and stopped short, obviously shocked to see him. She was dressed for work, in a blazer and slacks.

Professional and cute at the same time.

As usual, his heart beat faster at the sight of her. He’d accepted his feelings for her.

She hadn’t.

He welcomed them.

She was still running.

“Hi.” She straightened her shoulders and turned away for a second, obviously wiping tears from her eyes. He guessed she’d heard about the photos.

Anger gripped him, as it had when he’d seen the pictures the first time. This wasn’t the usual paparazzi photo. Someone was going to pay.

Clearing her throat, she met his gaze. “You saved me a trip. I was just coming to find you,” she said calmly. Too calmly.

Everything inside him chilled. “Well, I’m glad I saved you a trip.

What’s up?” he asked, trying to gauge her mood.

She walked past him, retreating behind the safety of her desk. “Let’s put it out on the table, okay? I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures.” She clasped her hands in front of her, but not before he noticed that they were shaking and her cheeks were flushed pink in embarrassment.

He wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from everything that had and could hurt her, but he knew better than to think it was possible. She needed to face this challenge. They needed to face it together if they ever wanted to have a future.

“I’ve seen them,” he said, his jaw clenched tight. “And I’m going to kill the bastard who doctored them and put them up there.”

“You’ll have to find the person first.”

He inclined his head. “I intend to. But I’m more worried about you.”

This composed, sedate woman sitting in front of him wasn’t the Amy he thought he’d find.

He’d figured she’d be angry and fired up. Furious at him just because he was the easiest target.

“I know how you feel about this kind of thing and I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t promise you something like this won’t happen again, but I swear, I’ll do my best to see it doesn’t.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s not enough. You are who you are. You’re John Roper, center fielder for the best team in New York.

You’re a celebrity, and let’s face it, you love being one. I can’t ask you not to be you.”

Was that a glimmer of deeper understanding he saw? A flicker of hope rose inside him that maybe, just maybe, being in this job, in this city, had taught her to come around. Could that explain the calm aura around her.

“Thank you for that. But
you’re you.
We can certainly work around both,” he assured her.

He stepped closer, intending to circle around the desk and take her in his arms, but her words stopped him.

“That’s not possible, John, and it’s naive to think it is.” She drew a deep breath. “Being a couple isn’t working for me. The photographers are relentless. Being friends won’t work, either. Even if I were just your assistant, it wouldn’t keep me out of the media spotlight. And that’s just not a place I want to be. So I’ve decided to ask Micki to reassign me.

Permanently.” Her voice cracked but her composure didn’t.

The only sign that she was upset was the fact that her knuckles had turned white.

But Roper didn’t have her composure. He snapped, losing his patience. In a heartbeat he strode around the desk and grasped her by the shoulders, spinning her chair around to face him.

She gasped and squirmed, but he didn’t release his grip. “What is wrong with you?” she asked, emotion showing at last.

“You’re wrong. This is wrong.”

“Because I don’t want to sleep with you anymore?” she said without meeting his gaze. “Or because I don’t like your high-profile life?”

“Because you care about me as much as I care about you. You’re using this ‘I hate being in the public eye’ thing as an excuse not to be with me,” he said, his frustration at an all-time high.

She finally met his gaze. “Pardon me if it bothers me to see myself naked on the Internet!” she spat.

“We both know it isn’t your body. I’ll take a freaking billboard in Manhattan if that’s what it takes to convince you I love you!” he yelled at her.

She stilled and stopped pulling away from him. Her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, too,” she said softly.

Relief swamped him. “Then get angry at whoever is doing this to us.

React, instead of being this monotone robot without feelings. Fight for us, dammit!”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

He leaned closer. “Why the hell not?” he asked, seeking an answer to the one question he didn’t understand. “We can ignore the press and focus on us. It isn’t easy, but we can do it.”

“You can. I can’t.”

“Because…” he prompted.

“Because when I’m with you, I’m everything I’ve spent a lifetime trying to avoid.”

He gentled his grip on her shoulders. “In English, please. I’m just not understanding.”

She swiped at a tear running down her face. “I don’t want to be the crazy lady arrested by airport security for making a scene. I don’t want to be caught making love to you in front of a glass window by paparazzi with cameras. No, those photos on the Internet aren’t of us,
but they
could have been!
”

He finally got it and let out a low groan. “You don’t want to end up like your mother, and being with me increases the chances that when you finally let go and act like yourself, you’ll be caught by the press.”

“I lost my job once thanks to her antics. I’ve spent years since making sure that won’t happen again.”

This time he brushed her tears away with his thumb. “You can’t keep running from who you are. You can’t suppress your true self forever and be happy. You aren’t. You won’t be.”

She stiffened her shoulders. “Who are you to say I’m not happy?”

“I’m the man who made love to you in front of that window. I’ve seen you making snow angels for the first time. I saw you dancing and singing in the corner with Hannah when you thought no one was looking. I’ve seen the real you and I’m here to tell you that if you keep running away from yourself, you’ll spend the rest of your life out of the spotlight like you think you want—and you’ll be perfectly miserable.” He lowered his hand from her face.

He looked into her eyes, and although he’d obviously hit a nerve, he hadn’t changed her mind. His heart sank at the thought of walking out of here as alone as he was when he’d walked in.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’ll talk to Micki and she’ll take care of you from now on.”

“Did you hear anything I said? Or did you tune me out completely?”

“I heard you. I just don’t think you’re right about what I need to be happy.” She folded her arms across her chest.

He was through. If Amy couldn’t see she was running away, there was nothing more he could do to convince her. He had a season to prepare for and he was leaving for Florida to join the team soon. “I guess you’re right. You know what you need and what you want. It sure as hell doesn’t seem to be me.”

She didn’t argue.

“It’s ironic, though. You helped me get my shit together with my family but you can’t do the same for yourself.” And until she was willing to try, he had nothing left to say.

Heart heavy, he turned to go.

And she didn’t stop him as he walked through the door and out of her life.

AMY LEFT WORK EARLY.
She wasn’t in the mood to deal with people today. She couldn’t look them in the eye with those photographs circulating, and to add insult to injury, she’d lost the man she loved. In fact, she’d sent him out the door without so much as a goodbye because she wasn’t convinced she could handle
anything
anymore.

What a mess.

She was mentally spent, and the last thing she expected to find was her mother and her aunt cooking up a storm in her kitchen. The scene was reminiscent of her childhood. Big meals, family dinners. A warm, fuzzy feeling surrounded her as she realized that maybe this was exactly what she needed. Retreating to the comfort of home and family without the outside world intruding. It had worked for her when she lived in the retirement community. It could work for her now, helping her forget about what it had cost to let Roper go.