Player's Challenge (15 page)

Thank goodness she’d already swallowed! Gemma doubted her boss and her husband would appreciate her backwash spewed all over them. Still, the question left Gemma tongue tied with guilt.

“I think we’re great together.” Devin wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Not far removed from their all too recent romp in the limo, her body responded instantly. An electric jolt zipped down her spine, straight to her clit. “Like two peas in a pod or two pigs in a blanket. She’s the best I’ve ever had. If you’re looking for a partner, you don’t have to look far.”

Acutely aware of his touch—the warmth of his palm against her shoulder, the casual brush of his fingers over her skin—little anticipatory tremors quivered deep inside her. Gemma clamped her thighs together. Even with the threat of her no-fraternizing clause hanging over her head and her boss sitting across the table from them, he had her wanting him so badly she could barely stand it. Of their own volition, he eyes searched out the nearest bathroom.

“Ha, ha…very funny.”

A curious smile curled Yvonne’s lips. “I knew you two were a great match.”

“You know, I totally agree.” Instead of letting her go or at least maintain some distance between them, Devin pressed his body against hers intimately. “After all, she’s going to make me thirty million euros richer.”

“She’s our little dynamo,” Yvonne agreed. “That’s why I’m sending you to Algiers.”

“Algiers?” Devin and Gemma said in unison.

Yvonne’s gaze ping-ponged between them then finally settled on Gemma. “I’m keen on signing Amir Gerges. And, I think you’re the one to close the deal. He lives in Algiers during the offseason, so we need to get to him before all the madness begins.”

Devin stiffened. “Are you replacing Gemma as my agent?”

“There’s no way I would bust you two up.” Yvonne brushed aside his insinuation with a snort. “You’ll remain on Gemma’s client roster.” Her boss’s expression turned serious. “Unless
you
want a new agent, Devin.”

In spite of his casual demeanor, and her present state of paranoia, Gemma could sense the wheels spinning in his head. “As hard as I’ve labored to procure the best possible deal for him,” she said, feigning outrage and beating him to the punch, “He’d better not want another agent.” She flavored her protest with just the right amount of sarcasm, and earned herself some chuckles even from Devin.

“No worries. Once I’ve been with Gemma how could I want anyone else.”

Devin slipped his arm from around hershoulders and sat back
.
He didn’t completely let her go. He snaked his hand beneath the table and settled it on her thigh. Gemma nearly choked as her pulse raced and images of them fucking in the limo flashed in her head.
Fuck me
, he’d demanded.
Fuck me, hard and fast.

“I want to remain with Gemma…and Top Flight for the long term.”

The double innuendo was clear, and her body reacted again. Her nipples beaded and her sex throbbed so hard, she was this close to pressing his hand between her legs to relieve the ache.

“Why send me to sign Gerges?” Gemma asked, changing the conversation to a more neutral subject. “He’s a pretty big fish.”

“And a pain in the ass,” Devin grumbled. He picked up his wine glass and swirled the liquid around. “Chip on his shoulder the size of the Swiss Alps.”

“Gemma’s the perfect choice.” Yvonne shot Devin a look, eyebrow raised. “She’s done such a miraculous job whipping you into shape, Gerges should be a walk in the park.”

“When is he expecting me?” Gemma asked, suspecting her boss had this meeting with Gerges in the works for some time.

Sporting a sly grin, Yvonne slid an airplane ticket toward her. “Tuesday.”

Adrenaline pumping, at the thought of an impending business deal, Gemma flipped open the Air France boarding envelope with her ticket in it. Her boss booked her on a Monday morning flight to Algiers.

While Gemma considered her angle, a tuxedoed waiter appeared at their table juggling two plates of charbroiled oysters. “I will be right back with the
Perrier-Jouët
. As requested, we’ve put a half a dozen magnums on ice.”

“
Perrier-Jouët
?” Devin perked up. “My favorite.”

Grinning, Yvonne appeared pleased as punch. “We can’t do our jobs if we don’t know our client’s likes and dislikes. Which reminds me, have you read over the endorsement contract for Peerage grooming products?”

“No more talk of business,” Paolo cut in. “We are here to celebrate. Plus, contracts and profit margins spoil my appetite.”

While everyone dived into the appetizers, Gemma’s mind churned. Something had to give. She couldn’t have her cake and eat it too. She needed to end things with Devin. The sooner the better.

Gemma reached up and fingered the area above her heart. Why did it feel like someone just ran it through a meat grinder?

Sometime after midnight, she and Devin stumbled into her flat. Like an elephant in a china shop, they knocked over the umbrella stand, followed by the key rack and then banged into the front hall table.

“Shhh…” Gemma chastised her co-conspirator.

He fell in line pressing his index finger to his lips.

“You are
soo
smashed.”

Nodding, Devin picked a safe spot against the wall. Unable to keep his hands to himself, he grabbed hold of her upper arms and pulled her against him. “No more than you.”

“I rarely imbibe, and never this much,” Gemma insisted.

“Same here. During the season, I don’t touch the stuff. It’s served me well because I’m the thirty million euro man…
hiccup.
”

Reminded of the difficult task before her, Gemma instantly sobered. “Devin we need to talk,” she said trying to disentangle herself. She only got as far as turning in his arms, her back pressed against his front.

“How about,” he paused to nip her shoulder with his teeth, “we talk upstairs in your bedroom. I’ve been wanting to get you out of this dress all evening.”

Despite pressing matters, Gemma couldn’t deny the throbbing ache between her thighs. “We can go upstairs
if
you promise we’ll talk.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Gemma stepped away from him but took his hand in hers. Devin eyed the stairs and wavered. “When did your staircase become a kilometer long?” he asked, obviously stumped by the task at hand.

“During your third bottle of
Perrier-Jouët
.”

“Couch it is.”

Silent but highly amused, Gemma allowed him to navigate them down the short hallway to the family room. As soon as he spotted her oversized sleeper sofa, he released her hand. Somewhat off balance, he removed his suit jacket and tie, then tossed them on the ottoman where they promptly slid to the floor. She moved to pick them up, and he sidestepped her.

“Leave them,” he entreated, wrapping his arms around her.

Gemma shuddered. Drunk or sober he still had the uncanny ability to push all her buttons. “You should take more care with your garments. I’m sure they cost a handsome shilling.”

“The only thing I possess that’s of value is you.”

And just like that, he made her feel like a complete heel. How could she end their affair when he encouraged thoughts of engagement announcements and joint bank accounts? Shelving her plans for now, Gemma melted into him. The next minute she cried out as they fell back onto the sofa.

“It’s a tad small, compared to my sectional, but it’ll suit,” he declared. He shifted in an attempt to get comfortable. He must have found it because after a couple of minutes of fidgeting, he went completely still.

“Devin?” Concerned, she shook his shoulder.

After a beat, he opened one eye. “Rain check?”

“For you, always.”

“You’re so good to me. What’d I do to deserve you?” He closed the one eye again, missing her stricken look. A moment later he was snoring.

Grateful for the reprieve, Gemma tugged off his shoes. She quietly set them aside, then tiptoed from the room.

***

Gemma removed her carry-on bag from the overhead luggage bin, and then sat back down to wait for the stampede to subside. She hoped the wait would recharge her batteries. For the past forty-eight hours, she’d felt like she was running on empty. Having to give up the one you love tended to do that to a person.

Deflated, Gemma laid her head back against the seat. Her present malaise had nothing to do with her impending business deal, but her decision to end things with Devin. So much so, she’d put her plans on hold until she returned from Algiers.

“
Pardon moi, mademoiselle.
Nous allons avoir besoin nettoyer l’avion
.”

Gemma looked up into the face of an airport cleaning janitor. Her mind had been so wrapped around her mess of a life, she was the only person left on the airplane. Even the pilots and stewards had disembarked. She offered her apologies to the cleaning crew, then scrambled from the airplane.

Get it together!
She needed to put Devin and her feelings for him out of her mind until this trip was over. Amir Gerges would be a lucrative client for the firm. A top fifty forward at only twenty-four, he would command a huge salary, if a club locked him into a long-term contract. In turn, she’d earn herself a handsome commission. She needed to get her head in the game, pronto!

Focused with her priorities intact, she took the escalator down to ground transportation. Instead of procuring a rental car, she opted to use the local taxi service. There was nothing more deadly, than driving in a foreign country. When she jumped in the queue for the taxi stand, her eyes were drawn to a familiar figure.

“Yvonne, what are you doing here?”

Her boss turned around. Gemma immediately noticed the other woman didn’t greet her in her customary manner with a kiss and a hug.

“I’d hoped to intercept you at the hotel, but I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you.”

It didn’t take much to raise Gemma’s internal flag. There couldn’t be any other reason for her to fly a thousand miles to tell her something she could’ve said over the phone. Plus, she and Devin had done a piss poor job of hiding their affair the other night.

Still, Gemma decided to play dumb. “What’s so urgent you flew down here to tell me in person?”

“I’m here because of Saturday night. Is there something you would like to tell me?”

A sudden stillness, a sense of calm swept over her.
Shouldn’t I be having a meltdown?
Her whole life was about to change. “I’ve broken the terms of my contract. Devin and I have been having an affair.”

Yvonne stepped forward and pulled them out of line well out of earshot of others. “How long?” she muttered angrily.

“Shortly after he became our client.”

“That long?” Yvonne reached up and pinched the space between her finely arched eyebrows. “And I’d hoped Paolo was wrong. You should have confided in me. We could have worked something out—assigned Devin to another agent or broken ties altogether.” She paused as if to catch her breath. “The way this went down, I feel like you’ve conspiring against me behind my back. I’m not a total hypocrite, Gemma, my husband is a client.”

“I know, I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Yvonne sighed heavily. “You’ve given me no other choice. I’m going to have to let you go.” Her former boss held out her hand. “I wish you luck in all your future endeavors.”

So that was it. No long, drawn out goodbye or farewell hug.

“Thank you, Yvonne for everything.”

Gemma re-entered the airport. Her steps remarkably light for someone who’d just lost their dream job. She couldn’t help it. She’d been struck by an epiphany: dream jobs were ten a penny, she only had one first love.

***

Devin set a bottle of pale ale in front of his houseguest, and then leaned against the dining room table. As he took a sip of his own drink, he glanced at the highlight show on the flat screen.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” Per their agreement, Devin had invited his former agent, Grayson Thomas, over to pour over Edmonton’s contract.

“No worries. Gemma’s in Africa on business.”

Grayson didn’t look up from the contract. “Who’re they looking to sign now?” He threw it out casually, but Devin knew he was more than mildly interested in Top Flight’s business dealings. The firm was tallying up a pretty impressive client roster.

“You know that’s confidential information.”

Sporting a thoughtful expression, Grayson sat back and twirled the titanium fountain pen he’d gifted him on Boxing Day. “You can trust me. I might have been your first agent, but we’re like family.”

Devin rested his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You’re like a second father to me, but I’m not going to betray Gemma’s confidence to the competition.”

“Your new agent’s a smart cookie. In all honesty, I can’t see any fault in the contract Edmonton is offering you. Everything is to your advantage. Did she negotiate all the terms herself?”

Eyes beaming with pride, Devin nodded. “She practically camped out in Edmonton’s legal department.”

“I’m duly impressed.” Grayson stuffed the pen in his blazer pocket. “Is she looking for new employment?”

Devin cut his eyes at Grayson. Heart pounding, he asked, “Do you have a no-fraternizing clause in your contract?”

Grayson nodded. “I put it in after a junior agent ran off with one of my golden hens. It’s a smart business practice for a sports agency. Sex is a powerful bargaining chip.”

“Then no,” Devin grumbled. He was back to square one. “Gemma’s not looking for employment.”

“You sound like you wished the opposite. Honeymoon over so soon? I admit I assumed you’d lost your mind when you asked me to go along with your heinous idea to win her back by pretending to be a ‘bad boy’. If one spent an hour in your company, one would quickly discover that was complete and utter bollocks. I acquiesced for two reasons. I love you like a son and you promised you’d allow me to review any contracts presented on your behalf.”

Smiling, Devin finished off his ale and set it aside. “It was a huge risk, but everything panned out.”

“You’re a lucky bastard. You could’ve derailed your entire career over some idiotic charade. Was she really worth it?”

An image of Gemma sleeping beside him popped in Devin’s head and he smiled. “Every pound I have in the bank and then some,” he declared without hesitation. “Do you want another ale? I’m going to grab another out of the…”

A tan suitcase in one hand, a kelly green cardigan hanging in the other, Gemma stood in the archway leading to the kitchen. Slightly disheveled, she was wearing the same denim jeans and white t-shirt she’d worn yesterday morning when he’d dropped her off at the airport. A feeling worse than ice-cold Gatorade being dumped over his head stole over him.

“How long have you been standing there?”

Her gaze drifted past him to Grayson then swung back again. “Long enough.”

Grayson moved to stand up. “I guess I better hit the road.”

Gemma waved him back down. “No need, Mr. Thomas. I’m not staying,” she uttered, her tone unnatural and forced.

Heart pounding, Devin stepped toward her.

“If you come any closer, I’ll scream my bloody head off,” she warned, backing away.

A second later, Devin heard the door open and slam shut.

In a mad dash, tears of anger blurring her vision, Gemma made her way down to the condo’s basement parking garage. As expected, her car occupied the parking space adjacent to Devin’s Porsche Panamera. Seeing red, and needing an outlet, she stalked over and kicked the door, leaving a very noticeable footprint in the white paint.

Somewhat mollified, Gemma clicked her key fob. After a few misses, she finally unlocked the doors. She tossed her carry-on bag in the passenger seat then climbed in. She went through the usual motions: plugged her cell into the adaptor, stuck the key in the ignition. Instead of starting the engine, and putting an entire city between them, Gemma sat immobile, staring out the window.