Game for Anything (23 page)

"I've been hearing things about your agent. Have been for some time, actually." Ty wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn't. He'd been putting off dealing with Jay for way too long.

"Probably time to find a new agent."

Dom nodded. "Good plan." He paused for a moment, then caught Ty's eyes in the mirror behind the free weights. "You let me know if you need anything, okay? Wouldn't want you to drop three hundred pounds on your ribs."

Ty appreciated Dom's none-too-subtle offer. "Will do," he said, heading for the showers. It was time to take care of some overdue business.

All Julie wanted was a quiet evening at home to catch up on her emails. She was going to brew a pot of tea, put on her most comfortable sweats, and sit on the couch with her computer on her lap until she'd cleared out her inbox. She'd just put the kettle on when her cell phone rang. She wasn't going to answer it, but when her mother's private number flashed on the screen, Julie's efficient evening flew out the window. Her mother called for only one reason: because she was sick from drink and no one else was willing to help her.

"Oh Julie, I'm so glad you're home. 1 have the stomach flu again. Estella can't stay the night." Julie heard her mother's assistant in the background saying, "You need to get back into bed, Carol." Thirty minutes later, Julie entered her mother's private wing. The lights had been dimmed and the room smelled like rum and vomit.

The last time Julie had been in her parents' house, Ty had been with her. He'd been so loving that night, so attuned to not only her embarrassment, but also the discomfort that wrapped around her whenever she set foot in this house.

She didn't want to think about him, didn't want to give him any credit—but if he'd been there for her when she needed him, why would he have turned on a scared little boy?

All week, an insistent little voice had been saying,
Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you should have
listened to Ty's side of the story.

Her mother was lying against a stack of pillows, groaning. "Julie, is that you?" She sat down on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Horrible. I must have had some bad seafood again."

Julie nodded, even though she knew damn well that salmonella had nothing whatsoever to do with her mother's predicament. Everyone knew Carol was an alcoholic, but no one had the nerve to tell her to take hold of her life and get some help.

Julie's heart squeezed tight in her chest as she finally faced a truth that had been nearly thirty years in coming: She'd never been brave enough to face her own personal demons, either. And yet she'd expected Ty to come clean and face all of his in the public eye. And he had. Ty didn't lie about cutting ties with his alcoholic father, a man who had refused treatment time and time again, even though it would have been on Ty's dime. Sure, Ty had gotten swept up in the money and the fame that came with being a pro athlete. But at least he'd been honest about where he'd come from.

Whereas she'd spent her whole life hiding behind the facade of perfection, in both her personal and business lives. It wasn't right to expect Ty to change if she wouldn't step up to the plate and deal with her own big problems.

Julie stood up and started opening the thick drapes one by one. The sun hadn't yet set and the sky was a clear, beautiful blue.

"Too bright!" her mother complained, but Julie ignored her.

"Where's Daddy tonight?"

Her mother grimaced and covered her eyes with her hand. "He's got a late business meeting." Julie grabbed her phone out of her purse and dialed her father's cell. "This is your daughter, Julie. I'll be at your office in fifteen minutes. You and I need to have a quick chat." Carol sat up in bed, knocking off several pillows. "What are you doing?"

"What 1 should have done a long time ago. Whatever relationship you and my father have agreed to is none of my business, but I'm not a little girl anymore and I'm not going to act like one. You don't really have the stomach flu."

Carol went completely white. "What are you talking about? Of course I do." Julie moved to the bed and took her mother's hands into her own. "You can't keep doing this to yourself. Drinking has never solved any of your problems. Please, let me help you." Carol's tears fell onto the back of Julie's hand. "I don't know if can." Julie smiled. "I love you, Mom. You're a strong woman. We both are."

"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy." Julie knew one of the reasons her mother had stayed with her father was because she thought it was the best thing for Julie. "Are you happy, honey?" Julie took a deep breath. "I'm getting there." She kissed her mother on the forehead. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? We'll make some plans."

Her father was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk when she arrived. His "assistant" was the only other person in the office, and Julie was certain that she'd interrupted a night out on the town.

"I don't like being given orders, Julie," her father said. Julie walked over to the window along the back wall, watching the sun setting over the Bay. More than anything, she wanted to see Ty again and beg for his forgiveness for being such a cold, judgmental bitch. But first she had to own up to her life's loose ends.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," she said, her back to her father. Some of his faults resided within her: his pride, his stubbornness. They'd helped her build a business, but they'd nearly destroyed her personal life.

"If this is about you breaking up with that football player, go cry to your mother about it. I'm a busy man."

Julie turned to face her father. How nice to know he cared. "But not too busy to sleep with your assistant on a regular basis, right?"

Blake's face turned a nasty shade of red. "You know nothing whatsoever about my personal life." She nodded. "You're right. I don't. Because you've never shared one single thing with me." He pushed his chair back. "We're through here."

She moved toward him, steady and confident in front of him for the first time. She felt different on the inside. Sure, she'd always displayed an outer confidence, but it no longer felt like it was just a part she was playing to get ahead, to win clients and money. "Not quite." Unaccustomed to the powerful woman standing before him, Blake sat back down.

"I came here to tell you that Mom has agreed to enter a treatment program for her alcoholism, and if you do one single thing to throw her off course, you'll regret it." She forced her lips into a farce of a smile.

"Good night. Have a nice date."

It wasn't until she got behind the wheel of her car that she realized that her hands were shaking. Now only two items were left on her to-do list. Figure out a way to save her business and convince Ty to give her another chance.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Ty walked into his agent's posh office unannounced. By the time Jay's pretty young assistant figured out how to operate the intercom, Ty had already made himself comfortable on Jay's suede guest chair. Quickly masking his surprise, Jay flicked off the split-screen horse races on his Bang & Olufsen sixty-inch plasma and yanked off his earpiece. "You winning?" Ty asked. Frankly, he wouldn't be all that surprised to find out that his agent was knee-deep in bookies or debt. He and Jay had never been friends. No one could argue that Jay was a master at making the deal, and the money had always been incredible. But although Ty had never confirmed his suspicions about Jay's predilections for hookers and drugs, he wondered if he'd been wise to let someone just this side of legal represent him for so many years.

Jay tightened his tie and grabbed a folder off his desk.

"Glad you're here. I just got the contracts for Buzzed Cola. Ever wanted to buy a French chateau?"

"That much money, huh?"

Jay smacked his lips. "The royalties are going to be pouring in for years." He was practically dancing at the prospect of closing this deal. And no wonder: Ten percent of ten million was a million. Someone had to pay for Jay's big-screen TVs, prime location in Union Square, and gambling debts. But he wasn't going to be the one doing it anymore.

Ty flipped through the thick contract Jay handed him. No question, the numbers looked good. But he already had more money than he could spend. Especially since a
French chateau
wasn't on his need-to buy list.

"You really think this is a good move? Won't a lot of kids be getting wired on this crap?" Jay snorted. "So what? Trust me on this, it's a hot product and you're perfect for it."

"I hear what you're saying. There's only one problem."

Panic lit Jay's eyes. "Nothing that can't be solved. You just let me know what you want changed and I'll take care of it."

Ty stood up, picking up the contract to ensure it got disposed of properly. "We've had some good years, Jay, but it's time for me to take my business elsewhere." Jay scowled. "You would have been nothing without me, you little trailer park punk." Ty headed for the door feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Maybe, maybe not." The next agent he hired was going to be someone he liked hanging out with. Jay clearly couldn't resist a parting shot. "You should be thanking me for hooking you up with that fuck-bunny. I bet her pussy was nice and tight and wet."

Ty dropped his hand from the silver doorknob. He was this close to doing a diving leap onto his ex-agent and crushing his skull with a few quick hits. He nailed Jay with his gaze. "Say whatever you want about me—I don't give a shit. But if anyone even hints that you've said something about Julie, you'd better think about installing an impenetrable security system at your house. And never going outside again."

Ty left the building and jammed a baseball cap onto his head on the sidewalk. What had Jay meant by "You have me to thank"? Hadn't hiring an image consultant been Bobby's idea? At the time, Ty hadn't thought too hard about how quickly Jay had agreed to Bobby's demands. Maybe he should have. Something was definitely up. But before he figured out what it was, he had a favor to call in. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the NFL headquarters. "Steve, it's Ty Calhoun." Steve Villers, the vice president of press relations, was a good friend of his, back from his rookie year in Pittsburgh. Steve had retired from the game a couple of years after Ty went pro and had been working for the NFL ever since.

"Dude, your ears must have been burning."

Any other time, Ty would have assumed good things were being said. At present, he'd rather not hear the word on the street.

"I've got a favor to ask you, Steve."

"Always happy to help out a friend."

"I don't know if you heard, but I've been working with an image consultant. A great image consultant. Julie Spencer."

Saying her name aloud brought everything back in a rush. The way she smelled. The taste of her lips. Her curves soft and yielding beneath him.

Steve chuckled. "Trust me, the situation would have been impossible to miss." Ty got straight to the point. "I think she's been a huge asset to the NFL." He wasn't even sure that Julie would appreciate him putting in a good word for her with the league, but he was willing to try anything at this point. Besides, if she got this gig then at least he knew he'd see her every once in while. She'd probably act like he was dead, but he'd just keep working on her until she folded under the pressure and gave him another chance.

"No shit," came Steve's reply. "After we saw how good she made a fuck-up like you look, we knew we needed her. She's thinking over our offer."

What an ass he was. Of course the League had noticed what an incredible job Julie had done manipulating—and fixing—his image.

"How about you do
me
a favor?" Steve said, and Ty knew exactly what was coming.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to screw things up for you by telling her I think it's a good idea."

"Are you kidding? She spoke so highly of you, I was going to ask you to put in a good word for us." Ty nearly blurted,
"She spoke highly of me?"
but it sounded too pathetic, even inside his own head. Instead he said, "Sure thing, Steve."

He'd never escaped that night with Julie on the boat, not in ten long years of beautiful women. Too bad he'd been an eighteen-year-old chicken-shit weasel, scared by the thought of her dumping his ass because he was just a poor jock. He'd never even tried to make her understand how intensely he felt about her. He'd thought it was easier to let her walk away.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

The next time he saw Julie, he was going to risk his heart, even though he knew the likelihood of getting it crushed was damn high.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Julie stood in the back of the NFL pressroom, more nervous than she'd ever been in all her life. When she thought about what she was about to do, she had to fight the urge to run fast and far. Oddly, even though she hadn't known the first thing about football just weeks ago, she wasn't nervous about fielding questions about her new role. Since she'd signed on as a League-wide image consultant two days ago, she'd done her homework with how-to videos and a stack of game tapes and interviews with the best players in the game. Of course Ty was among them. No one had to know that she'd watched his segments over and over.

All she wanted was a fresh start: just the two of them, and a little bit of trust that hopefully would blossom into a strong and lasting love.

She scanned the room for the hundredth time.

Why wasn't Ty here yet? What if something had happened to him? What if he was lying in a hospital somewhere? Would he think to call her?

Steve Villers pulled out a chair beside him and Julie tried to focus on the welcome speech the NFL's commissioner was giving, even though all she could think about was seeing Ty again. The commissioner opened the floor for questions and she wasn't surprised that Bobby Wilson was the first to stand.

"As I'm sure everyone here already knows, I am the new owner of the Outlaws." He smacked his lips together, looking like a hungry wolf on a three-little-pig hunt. "I've got a question for Miss Spencer, if y'all don't mind."