August pressed his fingers against his lips, gingerly walking toward Everest. “When’s the concert, Hunter?”
“One week.”
“We don’t have to make any decisions tonight, Everest. Sleep on it and let us know in the morning. No pressure, no promises. Whatever you decide, we’re there to back you up.”
“It would be an awesome concert, he’s—” I swallowed the words when I caught August’s glare.
“Totally up to you either way, Everest.”
“I need a walk.” He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and was gone, the door slamming before anyone could say anything.
20
Leo
The Philadelphia Museum of Art housed some of the world’s most well-known pieces of art and served as the location for the Winthorpe staff gala. The façade of the column-fronted architectural wonder was illuminated.
An oversized greenhouse-type structure took up the infamous landing near the top, where tourists from all over the world stood, pumping their arms in the air and throwing fake punches while humming “Eye of the Tiger” to themselves.
Cars pulled up along the front letting out people dressed up in business suits and cocktail gowns. I tugged at the collar of my shirt, tempted to hitch the tie before we even got inside.
Zara climbed out of one of the taxis, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pale pink dress skimmed her knees and fit her perfectly. Not like she’d been poured into it or had it painted on, but it hugged her waist and curves, providing the slightest tease of her breasts under the conservative square neck. She was stunning.
I should’ve picked her up from her house. Greeting her curbside felt wrong. I could imagine her sitting beside me with her legs crossed and my hand resting on her knee, brushing against her smooth skin in slow circles.
Her greeting was a curt nod and a dip of the edges of her mouth.
Daydream dead. Warming up to me wasn’t the same as wanting to get anywhere near me. And why should she? She was all business and that’s what I needed to be.
Slipping her bag under her arm, she tugged and fussed with my tie, only this time it didn’t bother me at all. Was there glitter in her makeup? She had a shimmery glow to her skin. Her full lips had a hint of gloss to them, but nothing overdone.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you all dressed up.”
“It said black tie optional.” She fussed with a hemline and looked as happy as I felt to be in my suit. “We’re trying to blend in. It fits you well. Tailored?”
“There aren’t many fitted for someone built like me.”
She huffed out a laugh. “True. And you’re not going to do us any favors tonight.”
“Sorry, I forgot my shrink ray in my other pants.”
“It’ll be fine. We’ll get in. Check out their setup and include ways we’d do thing better, if they choose us for their events next year. And get out.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” I saluted her and offered her my arm, but she charged ahead, not taking it until the top of the first staircase landing.
Kathleen stood at the entrance. Her barked orders made their way directly to us.
I leaned down, whispering into Zara’s ear. “Try to at least pretend to like me tonight.”
“Don’t I always.” She tilted her chin to her shoulder, in a gesture most people would take as a loving snuggle, but I’d heard the bite in her tone.
“Of course.” I unlocked our arms and wrapped mine around her waist, tugging her in close. Leaning in, I ran the back of my finger against her cheek. Her smooth skin was every bit as soft as I remembered from our night in bed together. “Always playing the perfect, loving fiancée.”
“You forgot doting.” She made a snap bite for my finger, which I wasn’t entirely sure was playful.
Chuckling, I led us through the entrance with a wave to Kathleen and toward the bar. We were going to need it.
A woman with bright red curls stepped in front of me. “Leo Wilder? Wow, it’s really you.”
“Every freaking time,” Zara muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes, smiling at the woman. “Hi, I’m Zara. Sorry, Leo’s here with his fiancée and doesn’t have time to flirt tonight. He’s working.” Zara grabbed my hand from her back and pulled me away.
The woman’s smile faltered. “Fiancée? I didn’t know you were engaged.” She fumbled inside of her minuscule bag and pulled out her phone.
“It’s complicated,” I called out over my shoulder.
Zara’s eyebrow lifted when we made it to the modern and contemporary art wing. “It’s complicated? What happened to playing the loving couple?”
“I can’t help it if I’m recognizable. That woman grabbed her phone and probably took a picture of the ring. For all we know it’s posted on social media. I’m retired now, but that doesn’t mean people don’t still talk and start digging and asking questions.”
Her face paled. “I didn’t think about that. Sorry for overreacting.”
Another apology. Who was this woman? “Welcome to my life. And don’t worry about it. Most people don’t see the circus attached to playing pro sports.”
“What kind of circus?” She took a sip of her drink.
“After we won a game in Cincinnati, I walked into my bedroom and there was a naked woman sitting in the middle of my bed, spread eagle.”
A fine spray of champagne shot out of her mouth. At least we were far enough away from the art we only got a glare from the security guard at the far end of the room.
“Naked?”
I lifted my glass to my lips. “Naked.”
“What did you do?”
“I backed the hell out of there and called security.”
She raised a brow, skeptically. “You weren’t tempted?”
Because all every man cared about was getting laid… “If someone is batshit crazy enough to show up in a stranger’s hotel room, they’re crazy enough to do any number of things that could’ve gotten me in deep trouble with the team. I wasn’t putting my career in jeopardy for a piece of ass.”
“Crazy ass.”
“Exactly.” I clinked my glass to hers.
“Why did you retire?”
“You haven’t googled me yet?”
“No, then I’d feel like a weird stalker.”
“You aren’t already, with the way you message me almost constantly?”
“That’s for work.” She waved it away as if work communication existed in a parallel universe where your phone didn’t buzz at two in the morning, ripping you from sleep. “I don’t want to forget something and have things implode because I messed up.”
“Sometimes you have to roll with the punches when things spring up.”
“That’s why I have my roll-with-the-punches back-up-back-up plan included in every standard plan. Did you not get your copy?”
I scanned my memory. Had I missed a whole alternate plan she’d put together?
“That was a joke. I know I don’t make them often, so maybe I’m rusty.”