Love Match (15 page)

Maya knew exactly where this conversation was going.

Jordan confirmed her suspicions with one little word: “Jake.”

The shade of the large umbrella failed to keep Maya cool. It was an unseasonably warm day, which for Florida meant extremely hot and humid. Maya would have been fine if she were just wearing Esteban's purple-and-gray short-sleeve bodysuit and matching canvas shorts. The fabrics were light and breathable. But the photo shoot was outdoors and everyone was afraid that someone might sneak a picture of the clothes and leak it to the press. Maya and Jake had to wear long overcoats to cover up while they waited for the production to finish prepping.

Even though the NFL stadium that provided their setting was on complete lockdown, it didn't mean anything to the
hyper-security-conscious ad agency. Thankfully Steven had sent over some fans to keep Maya from sweating off her professionally applied makeup.

Jake had his own umbrella of shade less than ten feet away, but it might as well have been a million miles. He'd barely looked at her since he arrived. So much for Renee's crazy suggestion that he only agreed to shoot the ad because he wanted to be closer to Maya.

“We'll be ready in five,” Steven told her. It was the sixth time he'd given her a five-minute warning. She didn't bother taking off the coat as she had the first two times. She'd just have to put it back on again with the next delay.

“No!” the photographer, Charles Zin, yelled. “The sun is in the wrong position. This is not going to work at all!”

Maya peeked out from under the umbrella. She didn't know what position he wanted the sun to be in. It shined down on the field with maximum efficiency. There was hardly a shadow for the rest of the crew to hide in to keep cool. The photographer had complained about the sun in the sky, the coloring of the Astroturf beneath their feet, and everything in between.

Maya's phone buzzed in the pocket of her overcoat. Travis had sent her a message: Break a leg! Preferably Jake's.

Maya wrote back: lol! u 2!

It was nice to know she was on his mind even though he had a bunch of other things to think about. Not only was his appearance on
The Hype
scheduled for the same day as the shoot, but it was at the same time, too. He went on in a
half hour. Maya wasn't even sure she'd be shooting by then. There was no way she'd be able to catch it. But that's what DVRs were for.

Maya spent the next few minutes texting with Travis before he had to go to set. By the time she was done, she got another five-minute warning from Steven.

“You keep saying that,” Maya said lightly.

“This time I actually believe it,” he replied. “Esteban has arrived.”

Maya didn't know how she'd missed him. The famous clothing designer had come onto the field in a pink-and-white zebra-striped suit and an entourage of people dressed entirely in black. They sat under a red sequined tent the photographer had spent the first half hour of the day screaming about because of the light reflection. The production assistant had moved the tent back to the fifty yard line, but now Esteban's people were having a fit about being so far from the action in the end zone. These next five minutes were probably going to take a while, no matter what Steven said.

Everyone on the crew tended to Esteban and the photographer, leaving Maya and Jake all alone on the side of the field. It finally got to the point of beyond awkward that they were sitting right next to each other without speaking. Maya figured it was time to be the bigger person. She got up from her folding chair and slipped under Jake's umbrella.

“Travis is about to go on,” she said.

“I know,” Jake said without looking at her.

At this point, Maya had had enough. “Okay, seriously, Jake? What is this about?”

He finally looked at her, genuinely confused. “What is what about? You said you didn't want be together anymore. I'm giving you your space.”

“Space is one thing,” she said. “Totally ignoring me is another.”

Jake stood. “You may have noticed that I'm not good at doing things halfway. I'm either all in or all out. You didn't want me in, so I'm out. Obviously, some people don't have that problem.”

“This isn't about Travis,” she said.

“I never said it was. I was talking about you.”

“We're ready to go,” Steven jumped in. “Better move fast before the next major cataclysm occurs, like someone finds out there's no sushi on the snack table.”

Jake threw off his overcoat and took the field, leaving Maya behind. How she'd get through this shoot with someone who obviously hated her was a mystery.

Three wardrobe changes in, the shoot was just as awkward as it had been when they started. The shots in the end zone were good as long as Maya and Jake didn't have to look at each other. The ones in the bleachers quickly became single poses since Zin, the photographer, claimed he was getting nothing from his subjects when they were together.

The crew had moved onto the press box for the final setup of the day. On the bright side, the press box was shaded and air-conditioned. Unfortunately, this part of the plan called for the most intimate poses of the shoot. If the earlier scenes were any indication, this would not go well.

Maya wore the signature design for the line. Esteban had created a dress that would look good on the court and, with a few minor alterations, out on the town. It was the most comfortable outfit Maya had ever been in. She couldn't imagine an occasion where she would ever go from the court to a club in the same clothing, but sometimes fashion was more about form than function. This was one of those times.

“I get to take this home with me, right?” Maya joked to Steven.

“No,” he replied, stern-faced. “If that dress gets out, you'd be killed, I'd be fired, and Esteban would probably need to be institutionalized.”

Maya shrunk back. “I was kidding.”

Steven remained straight-faced. “I wasn't.”

Something behind Maya distracted Steven. He was no longer looking at her. She turned to see what he was gawking at and her own jaw dropped.

Jake wore a brown linen sport jacket over a white, skin-tight tank top made from some kind of material that shimmered without too much shine. His pants hugged the muscles of his legs, but still gave him room to move. It was sporty, yet casually professional at the same time. Maya could see him on the sidelines or in the boardroom. Jake looked so mature in the outfit that she could easily imagine him taking over the Academy one day, even though she knew it would never happen.

Zin pulled Maya and Jake together. “We've sold the sport, now it's time to sell the passion. You two, up on the desk.”

“What?” Maya asked.

“The desk?” Jake said.

“She's a pretty girl,” the photographer said in the most condescending way he could. “I'm sure you can figure out what to do, Reed.”

“My name is Jake,” he replied. “Reed is my dad.”

Maya could have sworn she heard him say “And my brother” under his breath. It figured that the “Reed boys” would want to make their names for themselves. And it was just like Jake to be the one to correct people about it while Travis silently let others call him what they wanted.

Zin patted his hand like he was calling for a pair of puppies to jump up on the table. “On the desk, please.”

Maya didn't exactly know what he was going for with the shoot, but the atmosphere suddenly felt much less sporting. On the field and in the stands, he'd posed them in action shots that accentuated the clothes while focusing on sports. This was more personal and, in Maya's mind, kind of tacky. Since she didn't want to cause a problem, she started to climb onto the table.

“No,” Zin said. “Jake on the table. I want Maya to be the aggressor.”

Jake smiled for the first time all day. “This is going to be fun.”

Maya gave him a swat on the arm. “Dream on.”

Jake slid onto the desk and waited for further instruction. His smile had turned to a smirk that Maya alternately wanted to smack off his face … or kiss.

Where did
that
come from?

They both looked at the photographer.

Zin raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need me to tell you what to do?”

Jake shrugged, and leaned back on the table next to the glass window overlooking the field. He stayed up on his elbows so Maya wouldn't have to bend so far to reach him. From where Maya stood, she could tell that the image of them together beside the glass with the field below them was going to be powerful. So long as she didn't screw it up.

Maya leaned over Jake with her body closer to his than she'd been in a while. This time, he couldn't ignore her; he couldn't look away.

Maya was semi-aware of the camera clicking in the background, but it was the last thing on her mind. All she could think of was Jake. She breathed in the familiar sandalwood scent of his cologne, felt his heart beat through his muscular chest. “Lose the jacket, Jake,” Zin whispered.

Jake leaned forward, starting to do what he was told, but Maya stopped him. She grabbed the jacket material in her hand and heard an audible gasp from Esteban. It didn't matter if the designer was upset that she crinkled the fabric, the absolute stillness from the rest of the room told her it worked.

Maya pulled the jacket off Jake. He went along, moving as she directed him, leaving her in control.

She dropped the jacket to the floor, eliciting another gasp from the designer as it crumpled to the ground. Maya kicked it out of the frame as she lifted a leg to the table. The material of the skirt moved with her body, protecting her modesty as her moves became almost completely indecent in front of a room full of strangers.

All she saw was Jake.

All he saw was Maya.

So many sense memories filled her from their brief relationship, it was like they were transported back in time. They weren't in the press box of a football stadium. They were on the couch in his place, the first time they'd kissed.

Being near Jake—so close to him—it all came back.

“Perfect,” the photographer whispered.

Their faces were inches apart. There was only one thing left. One thing Maya knew she couldn't do. One thing she couldn't ignore.

She leaned in closer. Her lips brushed against his.

The scene on the couch playing in her mind jump-cut to another image: Nicole in Jake's T-shirt; Jake, drunk and in bed. The afternoon Maya's heart had been broken.

Maya's foot dropped to the floor of the press box as she broke away from Jake. The image was so jarring that she nearly lost control.

“I'm sorry,” she said with tears fighting to escape. “I'm sorry.”

Maya fled the room, leaving Jake and everyone else behind.

“It was awful.” Maya bit into a non-vegan Vanilla Dream cupcake. She meant her abrupt exit from the photo shoot. The cupcake was actually quite tasty.

“It's never as bad as you think,” Renee assured her while picking at her cupcake with her finger.

“Sometimes it's worse,” Cleo added through her own mouthful of cupcake.

Maya had stopped off at the Cupcakery on the way back from the shoot. She figured she'd feel less horrible about drowning her sorrows in sugary snacks if she brought some for her friends.

“I
bolted
,” Maya said. “Ran out in the middle of the shoot. It was embarrassing and totally unprofessional.”

“And yet you still took the time to change out of that fabulous Esteban original and return it to its security vault,” Renee reminded her as she took a small bite from her cupcake. “Totally professional.”

“I can't imagine what Jake thinks,” Maya said. “I thought I'd moved past him.”

Cleo finished the last bit of her cupcake. “You probably did. We all backslide. Just when I think I'm over that girl from the club blowing me off, the phone rings and I get all hopeful again. And I don't even know her last name! Your thing with Jake was way more intense.”

“It
was
intense,” Maya agreed. “I think it still is.”

Renee dropped her cupcake in the trash can beside Cleo's bed. She'd taken three bites out of it, which was more than Maya had expected. “Look, Maya, I don't mean to be cold, but you have to prioritize. Worry about Jake later. You have to find out about the shoot. How much was left on the schedule?”

Maya wiped a stray tear with her napkin. “We were on the last outfits. That's probably the only reason that photographer didn't come into the dressing room and carry me back into the press box.”

“That's good,” Renee said. “No harm, no foul. I'm sure the campaign is fine.”

On cue, Maya's cell phone vibrated. Jordan's name came up on the screen. Maya held it out for her friends to see. “I don't want to answer it.”

Cleo grabbed the phone. “Good. She kept you waiting long enough before the shoot. Maybe you should keep her waiting, too.”

Renee pulled the phone from Cleo's hand and gave it back to Maya. “Now you
are
being unprofessional. You need to find out what's going on. Don't let some guy make you less than you are.”

Cleo raised an eyebrow. “That was profound.”

“Of course it was,” Renee said. “I make guys feel that way all the time.”

Maya smiled as she answered Jordan's call.

As usual, Jordan got right to the point. “Maya, they loved you.”

“They did? But I ran out of the shoot.”

“Nobody said anything about that,” Jordan replied. “They were too busy raving about the photos. Guess I was right about your chemistry with those Reed brothers.” Maya had to wonder just how much Jordan knew about her personal life.

“Get some rest this weekend,” Jordan suggested, “and we can sit down next week to start planning for your future.” And with that, the call was over.