Tackled by the King: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (47 page)

Chapter Six: Rachel

I shot a look at Sarah to make sure she wouldn’t say anything silly, and I said, “Luke, would you like to join us? We’re celebrating my sister’s first major film role.” He smiled at me, and
Sarah
looked at the gaggle of twenty-somethings Sarah had brought with her and then politely said, “Well, congratulations to your sister, but no, I should probably take off. Thank you for the offer, though.” As he walked away, I felt a deep sense of disappointment. How would I see him again? Should I have asked for his number? No, that would have been considered as too forward. I asked him to join us and he said no; so that’s it, I guess. I looked at Sarah and her friends, and although I loved them dearly, I could understand why someone who traveled in limos and had business with the likes of Simon Garrett would want to decline the offer of drinking with a bunch of hippie wannabe-actors. I sighed and took a seat, as I tried to focus on the celebration, but even as I plastered a smile on my face and toasted to Sarah’s success with the others, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I had already run into him so many times today- it was like the universe was trying to tell me something. I thought about how he had punched someone in the face for me- little old me whom he didn’t even know. I sighed again; it was so romantic. I ordered another drink as the conversation around me buzzed on, but I could only think about Luke and his piercing blue eyes.

I had already downed four drinks and I could feel my ears grow hot as I struggled to get out of my seat. Sarah looked up at me and said, “What- you’re going already?” I looked down at my watch- we’d been here for almost an hour and a half and I nodded, saying, “Sorry babe, but I have to go to a dinner later today and I need to go home and get dressed.” I noticed that I had trouble speaking properly and I knew I had to get out the bar and sober up before going to Mr. Garrett’s dinner. I stumbled on my pencil heels and shook the hair out of my eyes as I walked out into the bright afternoon sunlight, realizing once again that I had nothing to wear. I pulled out my phone and called Alison, expecting to leave a voicemail, but I was pleasantly surprised when she picked up. “Rachel!” Alison squealed, “Rachel, sweetie, it’s so great to hear from you! I miss you so much- I can’t wait to come back to New York, but oh Rome is so beautiful, you’d love it. Listen to me, just jabbering on- how’s everything with
you
?” I laughed. I was used to Alison talking non-stop, and it was one of the things I loved about her. “I miss that jabbering actually- the apartment seems so quiet and empty without you there. But listen, I actually need your help, if you’re not too busy.”

I added the last part because I could hear music in the background, and a man shouting in Italian. I assumed she was backstage at a fashion show. “No, no, I’m free to talk- what do you need help with?” I described the dinner party invitation, and Alison interrupted me saying, “Ooh, Simon Garrett? That’s some fancy shit- Felix knows his son, I think, handsome guy but kind of a douchebag.” I dismissed that impatiently- the only guy I could think about right now was my rescuer, Luke, and I continued, “Yeah I might get to meet him at the wedding. Anyway, what does one wear to these things?” Alison paused for a moment and then said, “Well, I’ve got this stunning jumpsuit in a black garment bag in the closet, and a pale gold cocktail dress but I think the jumpsuit would fit you better. Send pictures okay? I’ve got to run now, love. Here, talk to Felix.” With that, Alison disappeared from the other end of the line and Felix came on, saying, “Hey Ray-Ray, did I hear Ally say Simon Garrett’s son? Listen, don’t get involved with him, alright? The guy’s bad news-” I tutted impatiently and said, “Nobody’s getting involved with anyone- I swore off guys this morning.”

Felix laughed and said, “Good one, Rachel. We’ll see how long that lasts.” I frowned, realizing that I had already broken my oath to myself when I had asked Luke to join me for a drink. I guess Felix knew me better than I knew myself. “Bye Felix, I’ve got to go, but I miss you guys. Hurry back to the city!” I hung up after he said goodbye and hurried on towards my apartment. On the way, I tried to focus solely on the dinner party, and my presence there as the wedding organizer. I had to concentrate on my work for now, and if the universe really had been telling me something by having me run into Mystery Luke so many times, then it would happen again. I decided to leave things in fate’s hands and go about my life as normal. As soon as I got to my building, I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and tore into the apartment, making a beeline for Alison’s closet. I knew I had more than a few hours before I had to go to the wedding, but I had peeked at Simon Garrett’s address and realized that dinner at his house actually meant dinner at his Upper East-Side mansion complete with two swimming pools, tennis courts, luxurious gardens, and a ballroom. I was still looking up pictures of it online when I threw open Alison’s closet door and rummaged through the beautiful clothes to find a black garment bag. I unzipped it in a hurry and it fell open to reveal the most exquisite emerald green jumpsuit I had ever seen. “Oh, thank you, Alison,” I whispered as I fingered the delightful fabric.

I lay down, trying to get some rest before I had to go, but I kept fidgeting and wouldn’t let my mind rest. It kept jumping from the dinner party to Simon Garrett and Luke. It kept getting stuck on Luke, and even though I tried to distract myself in all sorts of ways, I couldn’t get him out of my mind, with his piercing blue eyes, his full brown hair, his broad shoulders, and his big hands. I sighed to myself and imagined his big hands traveling all over me. Holding back a shudder of ecstasy at the thought of it, I decided I needed a cold shower. I undressed in front of the mirror, turning around to simultaneously admire and critique myself. I unhooked my bra slowly, imagining Luke sitting on the bed and watching me. I could feel my heartbeat quicken as I imagined his eyes hungrily taking in my full breasts, my narrow waist, and my rounded hips. Shaking my head at myself, I hopped into the shower and grounded myself back to reality. New York was a huge city, and I knew that there was a huge chance I would never see Luke again. But still, another part of me thought, what’s the harm in thinking about it? I gathered all my hair up above the nape of my neck as the cold water streamed down my body. No, I scolded myself, there’s no point in obsessing- que sera sera, I thought. I should just focus on the things I actually can control.

I stepped out of the shower, determined to stop thinking about my mystery man and start thinking about the wedding which was just a week away. I decided I would start getting dressed since my mind wasn’t letting me rest or focus on anything else. I worked some mousse into my hair and wrapped it in a cotton t-shirt to let my curls set while I started on my makeup. I had seen pictures of Sophia, the bride to be, and she was absolutely gorgeous; so of course, I felt a little insecure and really wanted to look nice so I wouldn’t pale too much in comparison. Naturally, though, there were vicious rumors that had been circulating about Sophia, about how she was just a gold digger marrying Simon for his money- and I may have believed some of those rumors until this morning when I saw how Simon spoke about her. He really did seem to love her, and I was starting to think that maybe Sophia loved him back for him, and not just for his mansion and his cars. I continued with my beauty routine, patting on some light rouge and drawing a stroke of black across my eyelids. I put on some bright red lipstick and let my hair loose, stepping back to admire my handiwork. I then pulled on the beautiful jumpsuit and instantly felt elegant and sophisticated. So what if I didn’t have Simon’s money or Sophia’s looks? I had Alison’s clothes and my makeup skills- I accessorized with a pair of golden bangles and my prized Louboutin heels, and I was all set for the dinner.

Chapter Seven: Lucas

I tried to distract myself from thinking about Dad and the wedding and Sophia by lifting weights at the gym, and it worked. The minute I got my blood pumping, I felt better and all thoughts of Dad vanished, but curiously, they were being replaced by the memory of Rachel’s smile as she asked me to join her for a drink. I still didn’t really understand why I had said no, but looking at the people she hung out, I had made a calculated guess that she wouldn’t like someone like me. Even as I had walked away from the bar, I had considered popping back in and asking for her number. What if I never see her again? I should have at least asked for her full name, or even if I knew what she was doing at Garrett Industries, it would have given me a clue to who she was. But now, I knew nothing about her except that she liked vodka with lemon and that her sister was an actress. As I worked out, a young woman wearing yoga pants and a sports bra walked past, visibly checking me out, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop thinking about Rachel in that little skirt suit. I shook my head- what was the point? Even if I had her number, I’d probably just fuck her and move on. Monique had taught me that relationships just weren’t my thing. I put the weights down and headed for the showers. While I lathered soap onto my body, I thought back to my meeting with Dad and his invitation to dinner. I sighed and realized that if I didn’t show up, I’d keep getting invites and sooner or later, I’d have to face the whole family anyway- might as well go tonight and get it over with.

I sighed as I turned off the taps, wrapped a towel around my waist and stepped out into the locker room. I was pulling my clothes out of my gym bag when I heard giggling behind me and I turned around to find that somebody had left the door to the locker room open- and two women were standing just outside the door and staring at me as I bent over my gym bag in nothing but my towel. I smirked at them, making eye contact, and they hurried away, pushing the door closed. I shook my head at their frivolousness and proceeded to pull on my clothes. As I walked out of the locker room, I saw the two of them quickly look away when I passed by them. I chuckled softly and headed out of the gym and back up to my room. Once inside, I began digging into my suitcase to see if I’d packed a tux- dinners at the Garrett residence were usually a black tie affair with at least fifty people in attendance. I thought distastefully about all the dinner parties I had been forced to sit through on the Upper East Side with my dad’s friends and coworkers; at least living in Paris meant being away from all of that.

I shaved my face and put on the tux- standing in front of the hotel room mirror, I turned around and looked at myself critically. I knew I was a good looking guy- people had been telling me that since I hit puberty, and I always received lots of attention from both men and women, so I rarely lacked confidence in that department. Yet, when it came to my dad, I always had to stop and look at myself, trying to see myself through his eyes. Did I look capable enough, successful enough, grown up enough? I frowned at my reflection for a minute, cleared my throat and said, “Hello, I’m Lucas Garrett, head of Garrett Industries France.” I extended my hand towards my reflection, putting on my most charming smile, but I still felt like I wouldn’t be good enough in my father’s eyes. Well, fuck him- he wasn’t good enough in my eyes either. I stared angrily at myself for a few seconds before I shook my head and turned away from the mirror. Out of habit, I reached into my pocket for my phone, and then realized I still didn’t have one. I picked up the hotel telephone and dialed the concierge, “Hello, yes this is Lucas Garrett- I need a smartphone delivered to my room. Can you send somebody out to get one for me?” The concierge told me I’d have one waiting for me by the front desk in a couple of hours. “I’m heading out right now, and I might get back late, so I’ll just pick it up in the morning, thanks.”

I hung up and realized that I actually felt kind of liberated not having a phone on me. Usually, it would be ringing like crazy with calls from Monique, from Ariadne, from Francois- my secretary, and all sorts of business associates. No wonder I’d been so wrapped up in my own thoughts all afternoon- I’d actually had the time to sit and think. I ran my fingers through my hair, straightened my bow tie, rubbed some cologne on, and headed out of my room. In the elevator, a teenage girl and her mother stood beside me, both throwing at me surreptitious glances that I pretended not to notice. The hotel valet hailed me a cab and as I gave the address to the driver, I saw his expression change to one of admiration. “You mean Simon Garrett’s mansion?” I nodded and tried to keep the sourness out of my voice as I said, “Yup- that’s the one.” The rest of the drive was carried out in silence and I was once again left to my own thoughts. I realized suddenly that my day had taken a sudden turn- I’d woken up to the sight of Monique’s naked body in Paris, and here I was, riding a cab alone to a dinner at my father’s house in New York. I wondered how the night would end, although I didn’t have high hopes. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up outside the house, and as I paid the fare and climbed out, I felt waves of nausea wash over me. No matter how much I’d hated it here, this was still my childhood home, and I realized I did have some fond memories of it. Smiling despite my staunch dislike of the people who inhabited the house, I walked in.

My father stood in the doorway to the living room talking to a few people that I couldn’t see. When I pushed the door open and bathed him in the dying glow of the evening sunlight, he turned to see who it was, and when he saw me, his face broke into a smile- an actual, sincere smile- the kind he hadn’t given me for years now. Involuntarily, I smiled back. We were sharing what I had thought was a warm moment when a loud voice behind me said, “Well, look who it is!” I turned around to see a tall, slender woman descending the staircase; she was very beautiful with large pouty lips, narrow hazel eyes and long flowing brown hair; she was forty-five but looked to be in her early thirties and she had clearly had some work done on her face and body. “Good evening, Sophia,” I said in the most gentlemanly way I could, and she rushed towards me and held me tightly against her surgically enhanced bosom. “Lucas- it’s so great to see you, darling,” she cooed, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. I nodded and plastered a fake smile on my face as I said, “It’s great to see you too, Sophia- I’m looking forward to the wedding. Knowing you, I’m sure it’ll be… extravagant.” She tossed back her head and laughed, slapping me lightly on the arm, and then she turned to my father and said in a girlish voice, “Simey, when the rest of the guests arrive, will you move them all to the ballroom?” I ducked my head and pushed past them into the living room where some people were seated around a small coffee table.