Thousand Yard Bride (3 page)

Then so be it.

“Fine," I said. "I’ll take your little security guard here with me when I go to LA.” I turned to Jo and added, “I just hope you packed a cocktail dress,
sweetie
.”

T
wo weeks
before I met Hunter Daniels Junior, I lost my dream job with Chloe Sutton Publicity. I was forced to take a job at SportsFire P.R. so I could keep paying off my student loans. And although I didn't like the idea of dealing with some egotistical beefcake, at least it wouldn't be boring. Managing Hunter would be hard, but I was up for the challenge.

I'd had one week before my new job at SportsFire. To prepare, I'd read up on all of Hunter’s and the Hawks’ stats. To counter the stress of starting a new job so fast, I spent my last free days hitting the rock wall at ClimbTime Gym with Lanie—my younger sister, best friend, and climbing partner in crime.

We’d gotten into rock-climbing in college. Lanie liked that it kept her fit in spite of all the partying she was doing back then; I liked that it allowed me to blow off steam. I’d always been an overachiever, and in college the stress got to me.

I found that challenging myself to make it to the top of a rock wall—or better yet, a mountain—was both difficult and fulfilling. After doing it so often, I started to associate rock climbing with my career. I wanted to climb the corporate ladder so badly. I wanted to make it to the top of everything I did, literally. That’s what made my fall from Sutton P.R. so devastating.

I hadn't seen Lanie in some time, so I wasn't exactly surprised when the first question out of her mouth as we stretched in the gym was, “So, what happened with your old job? I thought it was going great. And now all of a sudden you’re leaving?”

The wound was fresh, talking about that whole mess wasn't doing much for my stress—but I could never keep Lanie in the dark. “It wasn’t by choice. Chloe set me up. You know the model Camille von Ella?”

“The one who just checked into rehab?” Lanie asked.

“That’s her. Well, she was Chloe’s client, and when Chloe found out she had fallen off the wagon, she passed the account to me. I thought I was getting promoted! Chloe didn’t mention the drugs. Then Camille collapsed on a runway, broke down at a photoshoot, hit a paparazzo while driving her SUV under the influence, and lost all her other endorsements within a few weeks. She was a walking disaster, even when she
couldn't
walk.”

Lanie winced. “I guess Chloe didn't take the heat, then.”

“Nope. Just me. After I figured out what was going on, I convinced Camille to check into rehab. She’s a really sweet girl, so I was happy she did that, but the damage was already done,” I said as I put on my climbing harness.

“I can’t believe Chloe would do that to you!"

“I should have known better. This is public relations, and you can't work in it if you yourself look bad. Chloe would stop at nothing to protect herself.”

Brushing her hair back, Lanie said, “She sounds awful. Guess you don't have to work with her anymore, so there's some light in this tunnel. New question. How'd you get this other gig? I didn't know sports were your thing.”

That got a laugh out of me. “Remember Dan from college? He works at SportsFire. He hooked me up, but warned me that this would be a hard job. Actually, the exact words he used were something along the lines of throwing me into the flames to see if I could swim.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Lanie said.

“Didn't have to. Fire is bad, it's always bad." We started up the wall, my voice straining. "I guess I should have seen it as a warning. It'll certainly be a challenge."

"You like challenges," she said, rushing to climb faster than me. I took her cue, racing up the wall and letting my anxiety start to fade.

"Yeah," I said, huffing. "I just have to convince Hunter Daniels to lose the bad boy act. But really, how hard can it be?”

Lanie laughed so loud it echoed through the gym. “You do look at the internet, right? I don't know if that boy can be tamed.”

The internet was my enemy right now. Everything about Hunter was half-naked or full on nudes, sex scandals, and over the top parties; the guy was a headline generator. “Once he realizes that there's more to life than partying—that his career is more important—he'll clean up. He has to.”

“He strikes me as one of those guys who thinks they’re invincible. That nothing will ever catch up to them,” Lanie said as she gained a little height on me.

Gripping at the fake rocks, I felt my shoulders straining. “Maybe there’s more to him than that. I think I just need to show him that partying and success don’t go hand in hand."

“Oh, my dear sweet sister, if only you knew the true joys of partying. But seriously, try not to sleep with him."

I fumbled, her comment had caught me so incredibly off guard. “Lanie! How could you even suggest that?” I scoffed as I scrambled the rest of the way up the rock wall. Sleep with Hunter? Sleep with a
client?
I'd never be so reckless.

“How could I suggest that? Let’s see. Oh, right, maybe it’s because he’s super fucking hot, Jo. And you know how he is with women. You’re really gonna have your hands full.”

“Right. Like I’m really dying to jump in the sack with the guy who gets caught grinding on strippers. That just screams professional.” Even though I was rolling my eyes at her insane suggestion, I still managed to beat Lanie to the top. The rush of winning—even this tiny bit—was glorious.

After we rappelled down, I said, “Even if I wanted to have sex with the jerk, this is my career. If I mess this up, I’m done in P.R. Done for good, Lanie. I have to keep my wits about me and my pants on."

“But what a fantastic story it would be, sis." Her mischievous smile gave me goosebumps. “And then we’d know for sure if the stories about his huge dick are true.” I couldn't help but smile back. People told us all the time that we shared the same smile our father had been known for.

“I’m more focused on his image, Lanie, not what’s inside his pants.”

“Oh, come on, you have to wonder what the guy who's been voted ‘Hottest Man Alive’ two years in a row is like in bed."

"It doesn't matter what a guy can do in bed, Lanie."

"Says the girl who's only dated twice in her lifetime."

Lanie was right. After breaking up with Aaron, my long-term boyfriend during college, I hadn’t felt the need to date much. We’d looked good together and were comfortable enough with each other, but I couldn’t get over the fact that after three years we treated each other more like roommates than soulmates, that we’d never had any ‘spark.’

I tried going out with a few guys after the breakup, but they were internet dates that didn’t go anywhere, and I lost my interest in online dating after just a couple of months. I also got tired of hearing the same thing each time: I was too focused on my career to be ideal girlfriend material.

The truth is, I had wondered about Hunter before. He was a household name synonymous with sexy. Even women who weren’t into athletes found him to be the object of their desires. It wasn’t hard to understand why, and I admit, I'd ogled his magazine covers.

Between his warrior-broad shoulders, washboard abs, untamed black hair, and his stats on the field, Hunter Daniels was both formidable athlete and handsome rogue. He could score a touchdown as well as he could melt you with his intense gaze. It didn't hurt that he had mesmerizing golden-amber eyes, a color that was singular to him. There was something about Hunter that made you want to overlook his bad boy ways.

I mean—everyone else. I'd never overlook them. I was supposed to
fix
them.

“I have to admit I’m kinda jealous, Jo,” Lanie said as she grabbed up her gym bag. “He’s fun to watch on the field. Who doesn't love a guy who never misses a pass? It’s incredible."

“He does seem to have it all,” I agreed. “But I'm here to stop him from losing it all.”

“Good luck, sis,” Lanie said as she headed towards the exit. “You’ll need it."

“Nah. I've got this."

And I really, truly believed that I did. I had no clue what I was getting into.

* * *

W
hen I arrived
at the Haven Oaks Country Club to meet Hunter, I felt as prepared as I could be. I’d done my research on every member of the Daniels family; I was always a stickler for due diligence.

My investigation revealed that Victoria, his mother, was a highly regarded socialite known for hostessing charity events. Billionaire patriarch Hunter Daniels Senior was . . . well, there's no nice way to put it. He was a jackass, still riding the high from being the star quarterback of the Hawks in the early 1980s.

The first time he was dubbed MVP was the same year he was awarded Rookie of the Year. Prior to being on the team, he’d grown up in the lap of luxury, attending—and getting kicked out of—boarding schools all over the States. There was endless family money to get him out of whatever scrape he found himself in.

He wasn't much different than his son was, honestly.

The Daniels name was synonymous with old money. When his son was drafted by the Hawks, he'd used some of that old money to buy the team that he’d played for, that his son was now playing for.

As for the Hunter I was supposed to watch over, most of my research came from what was widely available online and in grocery store checkout tabloids. You didn't even have to go to a sports website to read about Hunter. He was everywhere. People were obsessed with whatever Hunter was up to, and I was joining the fascination.

The biggest news, aside from the recent Vegas stripper debacle, was Hunter’s very messy breakup with heiress Poppy Van Hausen. A year before, Hunter and Poppy had dated for six months and been engaged for another six months. They were the it-couple. They were American royalty. Various theories about what caused the breakup surfaced, most of them pointing the finger at a cheating Hunter.

However, when I examined the timeline of stories, it appeared that Hunter had straightened out during his relationship with Poppy. It was after the breakup that he became hell-bent on living the life of a consummate bad boy, except even worse than before. I searched through the articles to see what might have happened, what changed in Hunter’s world that caused him to lash out. Was it all about the breakup? What was he trying to prove with the self-destructive behavior?

I didn't have any answers.

So, I planned to find out from the source itself. This was my strategy when arranging a client’s P.R. campaign. It wasn’t unlike psychology, which was my college minor. In order to help a client navigate the media, you had to understand what drove them in the first place.

While it might have seemed like Hunter was just doing whatever the hell he wanted, he might actually have had a reason, whether or not he knew it. I needed to figure out what his motivators were before it was too late. I had to figure out what made Hunter tick, to prevent him from being a ticking time bomb.

It was a full hour before Hunter graced us with his presence. His parents were openly furious about their son's lateness, but I used the opportunity to learn as much as I could about Hunter’s relationship with them, the sort of stuff that you can’t Google or read in press releases.

Victoria was distant at first, but I could tell that beneath a few layers of socialite armor there was a mother who was legitimately concerned about her son.

Hunter Sr. was a different story. He was a big man like his namesake. Although he was tanned and fit, his greying hair gave away his age. His demeanor was less than kind, and I noted that he was callous, abrasive, and checked out every woman in the club. I suddenly started to see where my client got it from.

By the time Hunter waltzed into the room, Victoria and Mr. Daniels had told me that they were prepared to pull their support of their son if he didn't shape up. Hunter Sr., as the owner of the team, actually had the power to kick his son off of the Hawks.

Hunter’s dad explained it to me. “He thinks he’s the entire team, but the Hawks could still go all the way without him. He might not like to admit it, but the rest of the team could survive just fine. The boy doesn’t understand the meaning of the word team. Hell, I’d take the risk if it meant that he’d get his shit together once and for all.”

“So, it’s not an idle threat? You’d actually cut him from the team?” I had to clarify this in order to know what I was really up against.

Without hesitation, Mr. Daniels nodded. “Junior won’t let himself believe that, but you had better drive it through his thick skull.”

“Duly noted, sir,” I said, attempting to come off as confident as possible. The more I learned about the Daniels family, the more difficult I realized my job would be. I started to get nervous.

Then I saw him.

Haven Oaks Country Club might be immaculately decorated with fancy paintings and expensive sculptures, but Hunter was the real masterpiece in the room. Magazine covers and online blurbs did nothing to prepare me for this living, breathing Adonis.

I'd seen him on TV, but he seemed taller in person. As he sauntered our way I couldn't help but check him out, and as I did so, his amber eyes met mine. I straightened my posture, crossing my legs as if to remind myself I had to
behave.
This was a professional relationship, strictly professional and nothing more.