Playing Hard (7 page)

“No, I’ll leave you to it,” Daniel said. He stood and smoothed down his jacket before leaving the office without another word. Which left Amelia none the wiser about what was going on. Was there really a new project somewhere that she hadn’t yet heard about? Something hush-hush? She needed time to check in with the office grapevine.

But first the currency model. Daniel had been clear enough. She needed to deliver on this project or even if there was a new project, she wouldn’t be considered. Time to knuckle down. If she worked all weekend—Crap. She’d forgotten the Saints game on Saturday. She couldn’t not go, but the game would eat up an entire night. Even part of the afternoon if the Castros invited her to have dinner before the game. Which they usually did when they were in town.

She couldn’t say no to them. Besides which, she wanted to see them and Em. Em had seemed calmer when Amelia had Skyped her last night to give her the latest update on Finn, but who knew how long that would last? Particularly if she was in the middle of a case. When Em was in court, she worked like a dog. Made Amelia’s hours look positively part-time. Unfortunately it also turned her into Em-the-lawyer who could get very cranky. Amelia should send her another court-day care package. Cookies and chocolate and her favorite gin.

Gin. That sounded good. An icy gin and tonic and bad movies with her best friend. It had been far too long since they’d hung out. Someone really needed to invent a way to move Chicago closer to New York. Skype was a godsend but it wasn’t the same as giggling together in person.

Maybe she should just try to convince Em that she really needed to come to one of Finn’s games so they could do that.

She sighed. The reality was, she didn’t have time for talking Em into anything just now. She needed to get her work done. If there was any possibility of an overseas assignment, then she was going to make sure Daniel Carling thought she was the best thing to happen to economics since the invention of international trade.

Which meant no more time trying to fix things she really couldn’t fix. She needed to just put her head down and work.

The first half an hour was a struggle as her brain kept insisting on trying to decipher if there were any hidden meanings in what Daniel had said, but eventually she got back in the zone. Let herself get lost in the numbers for a while. Numbers were easy. They behaved, for the most part, logically.

They were soothing.

So soothing, in fact, that they sucked her in as usual to the point that she jumped when her office phone rang. She gave herself a mental eye roll and then hit the speakerphone button.

“Amelia Graham.”

“Hello, Amelia.”

If she’d been actually holding the phone she would have dropped it. The voice was instantly recognizable. Oliver Shields. What the hell was he doing calling her?

“Who is this?” she asked, trying to play it cool.

“Why, Amelia, have you forgotten me already? After you flirted shamelessly over gummy bears?” Oliver asked.

“I did not flirt shamelessly.” She tried to sound indignant rather than embarrassed. Because there’d been at least a hint of flirting. The way Oliver’s voice rumbled over the phone did distracting things to her nervous system, which made her want to flirt a little more. “How did you get this number?”

“You told me where you worked,” Oliver said. “I used the magic of the phone directory and called the switchboard.”

She couldn’t help feeling pleased. He’d looked her up. She grinned to herself and then shook her head. She was getting carried away. “Is there something I can do for you, Oliver?”

He laughed. Was it wrong that she was already way too fond of the sound of his laugh?

“Now that, Ms. Graham, comes under the category of leading questions.”

He sounded more himself than he had last night. Well, more like the guy that she’d met in the bar. She’d only talked to the man twice, for heaven’s sake. She didn’t have a large sample to go on. “No, it comes under the category of polite inquiry. Did you call for an update on how the yuan is performing against the yen?”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully. “I’m calling to let you know I’m out of gummy bears.”

Her smile widened. Now, there was a flimsy pretense for calling her if ever she’d heard one. Oliver Shields was making up excuses to talk to her. That information made her both happy and nervous. “You’re in a hospital, Oliver, I’m sure they sell gummy bears in the gift shop. And you must have at least twenty-two nurses willing to do your bidding.”

“Ah, but I’m not in the hospital anymore,” he said.

“You’re not?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Amelia.”

“But you only had surgery a few days ago.”

“Yes, and my doctor is happy with my progress, so he kicked me out.”

She wondered if that was true. Or if Oliver had found a way to convince everyone to let him leave the hospital earlier than he should. But Lucas Angelo was a surgeon. He wouldn’t let one of his star players leave before it was safe to do so.

“So where are you?”

“At my apartment. Gummy-bear-less.” He put on such a sad voice for the last part of the sentence that she laughed despite herself.

“They just let you go home alone? No nurse or housekeeper to help you out?”

“The nurse left an hour ago with everyone else. He’s supposed to come back later. My housekeeper doesn’t come every day.”

“I’m sure there are places that would deliver gummy bears to you,” she said, trying not to feel sorry for him. She remembered the first few days home after she’d busted her arm. She’d been exhausted from not sleeping well, and every simple task seemed to take three times longer than it should. And hers had been her left arm. Not her dominant hand with a bonus injured ankle.

“They might get the wrong kind,” Oliver said. “Plus they aren’t you.”

Her breath left in a rush. She’d been ready to find another excuse but it was hard to resist Oliver Shields saying “they aren’t you” in that voice. Something about it curled around the logical parts of her brain and arrowed straight for the parts that
wanted
. Wanted him. Against all her better judgment and all the complications that would come with him.

“I can’t come now,” she said, feeling resolve float away like a balloon snared by an unexpected breeze. “I’m working.”

“Can you come later?”

“I work long hours.” Now she was stalling. She knew she was going to. It was simply a question of whether she could maintain a few shreds of dignity and hold off long enough that it wouldn’t look like she’d come running just because he’d crooked his finger. She wasn’t that girl. She wouldn’t be that girl. She wanted, yes, but she wasn’t ready to let him know that yet. Not before she’d decided if he was worth the complications.

“I’m not going anywhere. C’mon, Amelia. We didn’t exactly finish our conversation about second chances yesterday. I’d like to see you. I’d come to you but I’m fairly sure Lucas will put me back in the hospital if I go out before he gives me the okay.”

It sounded good. To finish her day with an hour or so of Oliver’s company. But good, in this case, came with trouble. She’d told Finn that she knew how to handle herself and her love life and that was generally true. But Oliver wasn’t the norm when it came to the guys she dated. He had all the things she liked—and that usually didn’t work out—in a man. Plus he was an athlete. Her mom would have a heart attack. But she wasn’t in high school anymore, or even college. She wasn’t going to get knocked up. No one’s life would be ruined.

Finn might take it badly, that much was true.

And she owed Finn. But she couldn’t keep living her life bound by that loyalty. Or, for that matter, by her mother’s fears.

She liked Oliver. Or what she had seen of him so far.

Very much.

Surely a little flirtation couldn’t hurt anyone?

She wanted to believe that was true. Normally she could spot the ones who were only temporary straight off and she’d learned how to keep her heart out of the equation in those situations. Learned how to have some fun without heartbreak. She wasn’t so sure it would be so easy to keep Oliver at arm’s length. But she was going to try despite all the reasons he might be a bad idea.

Because she wanted to see him again. Flat-out couldn’t resist the opportunity.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll come tonight. But it will be after nine.”

“It’s okay, Amelia, I have nothing pressing on my schedule in the morning,” he said in a dry tone. “Just some more quality lying around.”

“Tell me your address.” She knew he lived somewhere on the Upper East Side near Finn. Finn had told her that much after the accident.

Oliver gave her the information and she wrote it down in a daze. Oliver Shields’s address. His home. Where she would be in just a few more hours. With him.

She looked down at her clothes and sighed. Once again she was wearing a suit. Sure, it was a very nice suit, and she was also wearing very nice shoes, but it was hardly what she’d call sexy. Though it wasn’t that different from what she’d worn yesterday and Oliver hadn’t seemed to mind then. He’d flirted with her despite being in a hospital bed. Maybe he liked the pseudo-librarian look. She could take out her contacts and put on her glasses and see how that played.

“Amelia?” Oliver said and she realized there had been a gap in the conversation while her mind went off on tangents.

“Sorry,” she said, hoping she sounded less flustered than she felt. Damn the man. Maybe she should rethink this. But she knew she wouldn’t. “I need to get back to work. Is there anything else you need?”

“This day to go a lot faster than I think it’s going to.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. She pressed her hands to them, willing the feeling away. Damn. He was good. Which was a pity because it wasn’t like they could exactly get up to much with his hand, surely? Even if she wanted to. Or rather decided to give in to the fact that she wanted to.

“I can dig you up some old economics research papers on the Web,” she said. “That should put you right to sleep.”

“Don’t do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“You always joke about your job being boring.”

“We’ve talked exactly twice,” she pointed out. “That’s not hardly always.”

“This is the third time,” he corrected. “And you’ve joked about your job all three times.”

“Most people don’t find economics all that interesting,” she said. “It’s not really glamorous.” Most guys didn’t seem to find economics a sexy occupation. Though at least the Wall Street guys had some idea what she actually did. Which simplified matters.

“Perhaps, but you think it’s interesting. You’re obviously pretty good at what you do or you wouldn’t be working where you are. You should be proud of yourself. Screw anyone who isn’t.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll get you extra gummy bears.”

“Just come by and see me. You and your big brain can beat me at Scrabble or something”

“Scrabble?”

“Well, I can’t take you out just yet, Amelia. So I have to find other forms of entertainment. Board games, I can manage one-handed.” His voice went low. “Unless you had something else in mind?”

“No.” Her voice actually squeaked slightly as she spoke. “Scrabble is great.”

“Good. We can play for gummy bears. I’ll see you tonight. I’ll tell the concierge to expect you.”

Chapter Four

Oliver’s apartment building wasn’t exactly what she expected but true to his word, when she walked into the lobby, the short stocky guy with neatly trimmed graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses behind the desk took one look at her and asked, “Ms. Graham?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m here to see Oliver Shields.”

He smiled at her approvingly. The discreet silver name badge on his lapel read
ANTHONY
.

“He told me to look out for you. Take the second elevator. He’s on fifteen.” No apartment number. Did that mean Oliver had a whole floor? She knew there was a lot of money in baseball, but the Saints were hardly the richest team in the league. Still, Oliver had been playing for a long time. Maybe he was good with his money. Or maybe he’d gotten some sort of deal. A sweet sublet like she’d scored when she’d moved to New York. Though her apartment was nowhere in the same league as this one.

“Fifteen, got it,” she said. “Thank you, Anthony.”

“It’s Tony, ma’am,” he said. “You go on up.”

She followed instructions and soon enough was standing outside the elevator on Oliver’s floor. There was only one door in the hall, and she stared at it.

Oliver Shields was behind that door. Her palms felt clammy in the warm air. She peeled off her coat and scarf while she kept staring at the door as though it might explode. Was she really going to do this?

Apparently the answer was yes. Because she walked over to the door and knocked. The sound was surprisingly loud. Almost loud enough to drown out the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

“It’s open.” Oliver’s voice came from inside. “Come on in.”

She turned the handle and the door swung open. No sign of Oliver.

“Second room on your left.”

She followed the sound of his voice. To find him lying on a sofa in a pose so similar to Finn’s the previous night that she almost laughed. The only difference was that Oliver had a book in his lap instead of a video game controller in his hand. His right foot was encased in a black foam-and-plastic contraption, and his right hand was in a plaster cast, nothing visible but a thumb and his fingertips. When he saw her, he grinned with such delight that for a moment she froze, caught in the answering pulse of happiness that spiked through her like an electric shock.

Then she regained control of her senses. Hauled back the reckless emotions and shoved them down. Sensible. She was going to be sensible about this. No broken heart. No emotional wreckage. Stay in control. She held up the bag of candy she’d bought for him. “Gummy bears as requested.”

“You are my new best friend,” he said. He still looked so delighted she couldn’t help smiling back.

“Not sure gummy bears are great recuperation food.”

He shrugged and pointed to the chair nearest him. “Have a seat. I’d get up but I’m meant to be resting my ankle.”