Romance: New Adult: One Game at a Time - A College Football Romance (Bad Boy Romance) (Sports Contemporary Short Stories) (13 page)

Her interview went by in a flash, and she knew she hadn't listened to him as well as she should have. His blonde hair, bronzed skin, angular jaw and dazzling blue eyes prevented her from doing so.

''Why would he treat tenants poorly?'' she asked.

''He buys buildings and increases rents. Then he kicks people out if they can't pay.''

Ryan didn't seem like that kind of guy, she thought. He'd been pleasant to her, more like a friend than a potential boss.

''Well, here's my stop,'' he said. ''Good luck.''

Alina began to think about Ryan. Was she perhaps on the way to work for an ogre? Maybe he was rich because he was ruthless, maybe
he even
broke the law.

The taxi stopped outside the gates to Ryan's mansion at ten past eight. The security guard had drifted off to sleep and didn't see the beautiful young lady peering through the railings. There was no bell or intercom, so she waited. After a short time, she picked up a small stone and threw it at the cabin. It hit the window and to her horror cracked it. The guard woke up with a start and ran out brandishing a baseball bat.

''What the hell are you doing?'' he shouted. ''Look, you've broken the window.''

''Sorry, I.......did
n't
mean to. I thought maybe.......you were.......''

''I'm calling Mr. Jacobson.'' He assumed Alina was late to the party. Ryan and his friends often invited beautiful women like her to their parties. ''Mr. Frazer, there's a young
woman
at the gate. She threw a stone at my cabin and broke the window.

It wasn't a
stone
, it was a tiny pebble, she thought. How the hell did the window break? It must be wafer thin. She didn't mean to. Then she imagined Ryan coming down the driveway and telling her off. She'd only been at the house for a couple of
minutes,
and already she'd caused trouble. Not a good start young lady, she told herself.

When she saw
Ryan,
he was walking down
the drive way
dressed in a pair of white chinos and a navy blue shirt. From his point of view, she looked like a prisoner behind bars. She was holding the bars of the gate, looking at the huge security guard on the other side. He was standing with one hand on his hip, the other swirling the baseball bat in eager anticipation.

''Open the gate and let her in,'' Ryan shouted. ''And put the baseball bat down, what do you think you're going to do with it? Hit a defenseless young woman?''

Th guard reluctantly opened the gate and let
Alina in
. Ryan shook her hand. ''I'm sorry about this,'' he said. ''Just bear with me a moment.'' He turned to the guard. ''Why do you
thing
the window is cracked?''

''Because the lady here threw a stone.''

''Correct. But why?''

''Er...'' The guard began to think of an excuse.

''Because you were asleep.
Asleep
on duty. It's not the first time is it? I pay you
great
money to look after the
place,
and all you can do is sleep.''

''Sir, I'm sorry it won't happen again.''

''Darn right it won't,
you're fired
. Take your things and leave.''

Alina gasped. It was all her
doing;
she certainly hadn't meant to get the poor man
fired
. ''
Mr.
Jacobson, it was my fault.''

''No, you did what anybody would have done. Try to wake the guy up.
No,
I've had enough, he's history.''

Alina wasn't going to argue
any more
, but she felt desperately sorry for the security guard. Where she came from it was
extremely difficult
to get a job. Little did she know that in LA, the man would have another job the next day.

''Here, let me take you bag,'' Ryan said.

''It's heavy I'm afraid.''

''Do I look like a weakling?'' he asked. No, he certainly didn't Alina thought.
He looked strong and so fit.
His shirt was
open,
and when he picked her bag
up,
she saw his bronzed chest bulge slightly. ''Heavy?'' he joked. ''Light as a feather.'' She looked at him shyly. In the soft evening air, Alina could smell his aftershave. It made her want to put her head
to
his chest and breathe in the real scent of him. Jesus, stop it, he's your boss, you've only been here a few minutes, she told herself. But it would be fun wouldn't it? Imagine him, so rich and handsome, on top of you, kissing you. She tried to banish the thoughts she was having, but they kept coming back, each time with Ryan more naked than before.

Okay, you're horny, she told herself. It's not surprising is it? When was the last time you had a guy? She tried to remember. More than a year ago, she concluded, a guy called Jeff. She'd been to high school with
him,
and he'd called her out of the blue. He'd told her he'd always liked her and that
at school
he'd never had the courage to ask her on a date. She'd found his excuse charming. He told her it was because he thought she was way out of his league.

''I'd have gone on a date with you, Jeff,'' she'd told him. She remembered it was she who'd taken the initiative
after
the movie. In the car on the way home, she'd reached across for his zipper and slowly pulled it down. He'd almost crashed the car. Both of them knew the area well and decided to drive down to the creek, where they got out and made love in the
cool
evening air. But you didn't come, she reminded herself.
He was so quick you didn't get any pleasure out of it.
Hell, even
more,
reason to feel horny. When was the last time you came? To her
shame,
Alina couldn't remember.

''There, what do you think of the place?'' Ryan asked, snapping her out of her train of thought.

''Wow it's beautiful. It's so
nice
of you to put me up. I could have stayed in a hotel for a few
nights
until I got sorted out.''

''The place has twelve bedrooms. You could live here for
years,
and we'd never meet,'' he said. ''Besides, I get lonely sometimes.'' She looked at him in disbelief. A billionaire like him
lonely
. How? It was quite an admission for a man of his type to make, she thought.

They had just rounded a bend in the driveway, the place where the house suddenly came into view. It was the point where most visitors looked on in awe at the mansion. It was unlike anything Alina had ever seen. Sure, she'd seen such houses in magazines and on TV programs, but never with her own eyes. It was beautiful, but she also found it imposing. The great front door, guarded by two stone lions wasn't welcoming. If she
were
his wife, she would take the lions away and replace them with stone troughs full of flowers. What she did like were the window shutters. They gave the place a European feel.

She caught another wave of Ryan's aftershave and the
thoughts she
'd had before, all came flooding back. ''Come in,'' he said putting his weight against the giant oak door. ''This is John. If you want anything while you are here, just let him know. You won't understand what he says thought.'' Alina gave Ryan a puzzled look. ''He's Scottish,'' he said, clearing the mystery.

''Ah.
Nice
to meet
you,
John,'' she went to shake his hand.

''No, he's a
butler,
and apparently they don't shake hands'' Ryan said, still amused by John's standoffish nature.

''No sir, we don not. It's not our place.''

Alina almost burst out laughing.
Was he being
serious? What kind of world did he
live in
?

''Okay, I'll let John show you to your room. I'm sure you'll want to freshen up.'' After the long journey, the thought of a hot bath or shower was too much to turn down. She nodded gratefully. ''When you're ready, come back down, we're having a party around the pool.''

''Sure.'' Alina wondered what form one of his parties took. She didn't imagine he was the type to sit around the dinner table, drinking wine and talking politics. No,
she
was sure the
type
of party he enjoyed involved much more than that.

The room John showed her too was so beautiful, she stood in the middle of it and held her breath.
How the other half lived. Her room was bigger than the whole upper floor of her parents home. How did people get so rich? She hoped to find out in the coming weeks.

She allowed herself to fall back onto the king sized bed and almost disappeared into the softness of it. Don't close your eyes or you'll fall asleep. Get a shower and go to the party. Although she was only twenty, she wasn't much of a party animal. She preferred sitting around a table with friends and talking. She heaved herself off the bed and walked to a door, behind which she assumed there was a bathroom.  She was right, only it wasn't a bathroom as she knew them. This
bathroom was
more like a Roman
bath house
. Black granite on all surfaces,
a huge bath on
lions feet and a shower behind glass. It had
the most enormous
shower she
'd ever seen. She
was torn
. Bath or shower? Shower, she'd fall asleep in a bath.

She got undressed and stood under the
powerful
jet of warm water. She took the shampoo and began to wash her hair. If Alina had known
at school
she'd been most boy's masturbation
fantasy;
she wouldn't have been quite so dissatisfied with her body. She liked her legs and thighs but hated her stomach. To her, it sagged and bulged in all the wrong places, and her breasts were too large. She was sick and tired of men staring at her chest when they should be looking at her face. She was reasonably satisfied with her behind although she often looked at in the mirror searching for the tiniest evidence of cellulite. There was
none,
and her dissatisfaction with her stomach was
ill-founded
. Any boy who had ever seen it, and not many had, thought it was soft and seductively feminine.

Her room had everything. She'd brought her
own
hair
dryer,
but when she switched on the one in the room,  she was almost blown away. It fanned her dark hair and dried it in no time. She had long hair. It swept down to the center of her back, in long shiny waves. She didn't wear much makeup. She didn't need much. Her skin was unblemished and fresh. She applied a little eye shadow and gloss lipstick.

Hell, it's all creased, she thought as she fished around in her bag for something to wear. The only thing that had escaped the baggage handlers
wrath
was a tiny black circle skirt. She wondered it she dare appear in it. She had no choice, she thought. She added a black silk top with spaghetti straps and stood in front of the mirror. She was pleased she
had;
her nipples were sticking through the material, making her look like a cheap hooker. She gave a whoop of frustration. Then it came to her. All the Regency British movies she'd seen. The butler with
an iron
in his hand. John was very obliging and in no time returned to her room with her knee length skirt and a navy blouse, impeccably pressed.

Feeling more comfortable in conservative clothes, she went downstairs. Ryan had pointed to a door when he'd mentioned the party. She could hear music and decided to follow it. The door took her from the entrance hall into a huge living room. Although the house
was probably built
in the nineteen twenties, the room was contemporary in decoration. When she looked out of the window, she found herself looking
at
the back yard. There was a large well-manicured lawn with the kind of stripes her father always tried to get on his
lawn
but never did. At each side of the
lawn
were flower beds with a dazzling array of colorful foliage.

The French windows were
open,
and Alina stepped outside. It was then that she noticed the music was coming from a separate building across the lawn. When she was halfway across the turf, she heard the sound of water and screams.

''Hi, welcome to one of my
famous
parties,'' Ryan said. His white pants were
gone,
and he was wearing a pair of tight-fitting swimming shorts and no shirt.  Obviously just out of the pool, his body
was covered
in
tiny drops of water. Keep your eyes up she told herself, painfully aware of the considerable bulge down below.