Bad Boy's Bridesmaid (31 page)

No
!

“Yes, ma’am. I’m
head over heels for her.”

No, no, no
!

I didn’t have
the air left in my lungs after that gut punch. I stared at him, dumbfounded,
trying to figure out how to scream without any breath.

“We’ve been
keeping it quiet.” Jack looked too goddamned proud of himself. “You know how
she is. Leah would rather put someone else in the spotlight. I think she cares
about my career as much as she cares about me. She’s got a big heart. That’s
what drew me to her in the first place.”

I’d kill him.
I’d absolutely, positively
kill
him.

Was he trying to
give me a stroke? Or get me
fired
? I denied his advances, but that was
no reason to destroy my career! He was a lunatic!

Oh, sweet baby
Jesus, he
lied
to the league president.

Frank’s voice
hollowed. “
You,
Jack Carson, are in a committed relationship with your
publicist
?”

Jack wagged his
eyebrows at me. I’d smack that smug grin off his face. “We wanted to keep it
low-profile, but, with all the talk of running me out of the league, I’m sure
Leah won’t mind vouching for me—her loving boyfriend and
biggest client
.”

He used the PR
firm against me. He
knew
how much I needed him as a client to advance my
career!

This wasn’t
happening. I couldn’t pretend to be in a relationship with a cocky, playboy
like Jack. No self-respecting woman would ever admit to being his girlfriend.
Jack was nothing more than a woman’s naughtiest fantasy. No future. No
promises. No family. No
anything
besides a night of pure sex and a
regretted mistake for notching on his bedpost.

Jack insulted
me, tried to ruin my reputation, and would destroy me to save his own ass.

Except…he was right.
He
was
our biggest client. And he paid us a
lot
of money.

Jolene’s crush
gave me the lead on everything. I headed most of his interviews, organized his
media exposure, and called for his sponsorships. Another year or two of working
at this level, and she’d promote me to partner.

My dream job…all
at the whim of a man who kept his brain zipped up tight in his pants.

If he lost his
job, I’d lose an opportunity to build my own career.

I’d heard of
women sleeping with their bosses to get to the top, but
faking
sleeping
with someone? That was just as distasteful. Especially since I was the one
woman in a tri-county radius
not
sleeping with Jack Carson!

No
way
was Frank going to buy this once I leapt across the table and choked the life
out of that arrogant son of a bitch.

But I wanted my
job as badly as Jack wanted his.

He grinned in
excitement, loving the game almost as much as his new chew toy. I didn’t have
time to think of an excuse, and I couldn’t imagine any other way to dissuade
Frank Bennett from expelling Jack from the league.

Pop the damn
champagne. Apparently I was dating the hottest, most depraved bachelor in the
league.

“It’s…true.” My
voice wavered. God, I hoped becoming partner in the firm was worth all this.
“We’re, uh, very…happy.”

Finn’s mouth
dropped open. “I don’t believe it! Leah, you’re such a…
nice
girl!”

Jack crossed his
arms behind his head. He knew he got off with absolutely no consequence.

Lucky for him.

What the hell
did it mean for me?

“That’s the
reason I wanted to keep our love on the DL,” he said. “A good girl like Leah,
caught with a rogue like me?
That’s
a scandal. But I guess it was bound
to come out sooner or later, right, Kiss?”

I gritted my
teeth. “Right.”

He enjoyed
watching me squirm. “Guess we’ll have to go public. Don’t worry.” He flexed
again, intentionally, knowing I studied every inch of his sculpted biceps. “The
media will eat this up.”

Yeah, that’s
what I was afraid of. Jack grinned, and I wished it didn’t warm me from the
inside out.

“It’s time for
the world to meet the lucky girl who belongs to the one-and-only Jack Carson.”

Chapter Three - Leah

Oh, this
wouldn’t work.

His
girlfriend
?
The idea was insane.
He
was insane.

That had to be
it. Jack Carson wasn’t just a playboy trouble-maker brandishing muscles,
tattoos, and indecent one-night stands. He was certifiably crazy. A meat-head
that went rancid and decided to spoil
my
life too.

The meeting
ended. I didn’t move, didn’t even offer my
long-term, committed boyfriend
a kiss before he strolled out of my office without even a slap to his wrist.

Though he
slapped my ass on the way out the door.

His
girlfriend
?

Of all the
idiotic, ill-conceived plans…

Jack came out
looking like a damn martyr by protecting his
girlfriend
from the public
eye. Not only did it give him cause to refute the allegations of his
womanizing, now he had
my
word to say he was an honest and responsible
man. Frank Bennett might have swallowed his own tongue by the end of the call,
but his displeasure was as evident as the condom imprint in Jack’s back pocket.

This was more
than a mess, worse than spaghetti on a white carpet or skirt tucked into
pantyhose.

Except, for the
first time, I was the one causing the problems.

“Leah.” Jolene
called from her office doorway. “Can I have a moment with you in private?”

Cripes.

“Be right
there.” I gathered my laptop and paperwork, pretending the tremble of my
fingers was a result of my newly exposed relationship and not the peak of my
blood-pressure before I stroked out.

For all I knew,
Jolene planned to fire my ass on the spot. We never had a conversation about
sleeping with our most expensive, temperamental, and important client, but
something told me it wasn’t acceptable behavior. I wasn’t dating Jack Carson.
Hell, it took me a year to even
consider
seeing another man after I left
Wyatt. I didn’t have enough coffee to deal with this disaster.

But this was one
hell of a PR masterpiece, something I never would have thought to do. Tame Jack
Carson with rumors of a real, committed relationship? Let him look dependable
and controlled?

If only his
chosen girlfriend wasn’t
me
.

The only
relationship I wanted with Jack was strictly professional—preferably separated
by multiple layers of clothing, a couple miles of distance, and a bad cell
connection.

Jolene waited at
her door. I took the seat opposite her desk. Her heels clicked as she paced the
room.

I earned forty
grand a year, but I had the possibility for six figures once I made partner.  I
was promised a company car. Fancy parties. Jet-setting around the world. This
job was
everything
I ever wanted.

And now it was
ruined because of a wild, bad boy quarterback who wasn’t satisfied tormenting
me in the office. He wanted me to go down with him.

Or go down on
him.

Absolutely not.

Jack Carson was
trouble, bundled in the body of a Greek god with a flashy smile and bandit blue
eyes. Anytime he gave me butterflies, I got out the wasp spray.

“Leah…” Jolene
took her chair with a sigh. “I had no idea you and Jack were a…couple.”

Yep, it was a
big
surprise to me too. The truth settled like a thick lump in my stomach, pitted
next to my courage which hid under what remained of my pride. I needed to fess
up. I wasn’t dating Jack. I wasn’t
anything
with Jack.

But I froze.

God...if Jolene
knew we
lied
to the league?

PR wasn’t about
lying, it was
spin
. I highlighted the positive aspects of Jack’s life,
all the facts the public found more tolerable than his harem of woman,
collection of speeding tickets, and out-of-court settlements for fist-fights.

If she knew I
lied, I’d be out of her company quicker than Jack could run the forty, that was
for sure.

Jolene stared at
me, slouching despite her jacket’s shoulder pads. “Leah, I can’t see you and
Jack
Carson
as a…I mean, he’s got
such
a reputation. And you…”

I bit my lip.
“What about me?”

“After Wyatt
broke your heart, you didn’t let anyone else get close…” Jolene watched as I
awkwardly shifted. She apologized. “Not my place, I know. But Leah, I took you
under my wing. You are the next
me
. I see these things.”

“This has
nothing to do with Wyatt.”

“It’s just,
after what he did, I couldn’t imagine you dating a man like Jack, someone who
seems…”

Lord. “It…it
certainly wasn’t planned.”

“Of course.
Right. Working with someone this closely was bound to create a spark.”

Oh, Jack was
fanning some flames now—hellfire, mostly. “Jack always was a special case.”

“That’s the
truth.” Jolene stirred her coffee—brewed extra strong for the times when the crises
hit harder than linebackers. “I guess we should have a talk about interoffice
conduct and relations with clients.”

“Really, I don’t
think that’s necessary—”

“I’ve never
specifically prohibited these types of relationships.”

“Jolene, I
swear. You won’t notice a difference in my quality of work. Nothing has changed
about my commitment to our clients, including Jack.” I hesitated. “I doubt you
even noticed anything was unusual.”

“You’re right. I
didn’t know you two were dating.” Jolene laughed. “You’ve always been the
epitome of professional, Leah. But, when I hired you as my assistant, I did it
because you could handle the responsibilities and sensitive nature of our work.
We are to remain
invisible
. We aren’t the story; our clients are the
ones in the spotlight.”

Jack wasn’t
going to make it out of the huddle at practice. Didn’t matter how many linemen
protected him, I’d kick his butt from one side of the field to the other.

“I completely
understand, Jolene. And I can swear to you—”

“I know, I know.
You wouldn’t let this…fling interfere with your work.”

“Oh, I can
absolutely guarantee it.”

Jolene nodded.
She sipped her coffee, grimaced, and choked it down. She offered me a cup from
the pot behind her. I smelled the bitterness from across the desk, and that
much caffeine would only encourage me to bean Jack off the goal posts.

Her voice turned
heavy. “This is hard to say.”

I braced myself
for the words I had never heard in my life.

You’re fired.
We’ll have to let you go. Get the hell out of my office
.

Two
humiliations in
one day?

I’d never find a
job as good as this one. I’d be forced to move. I’d have to sell my new car.
Wasn’t it bad enough my plan for a family and marriage was ruined when I walked
in on Wyatt humping his way into bachelorhood? I couldn’t lose the one job that
promised every success I ever dreamed.

Marriage. Kids.
Travel. Fantastic job.

This opportunity
slipped through my fingers, even more tragic since it was all I had left in my
life.

I hid my
trembling hands. “Jolene, I promise—”

“Before you go
back to work, I just have to say that Jack Carson isn’t the right man for you.”

I stared at her,
wide-eyed. “You aren’t firing me?”

Jolene frowned.
“I’m not worried about your job performance.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m worried
about
you
.” She sipped the coffee before dumping three packets of sugar
into the mug. “You know Jack’s reputation better than anyone. I know he must be
fun, but he’s never going to give you what you need.”

“I—”

“You aren’t
looking for a fling. Don’t let Wyatt’s behavior scare you away from a real
relationship.”

“It’s not that—”

“Do you still
want to find the right man? Settle down? Leah, you couldn’t wait to have kids.”

I pretended the
folder full of information from the local fertility clinic wasn’t sitting in
the bottom drawer of my desk. I wanted a family more than anything. Hell, I
wanted it more than the marriage with Wyatt. It was unconventional, but I
wondered what Jolene would protest more—an apparent relationship with the
renowned manwhore Jack Carson…or the information on sperm donors I had
meticulously catalogued in a hidden folder.

Both ideas were
sounding crazy to me at the moment.

“Jack will
not
give you that life.” Jolene held her hand up. “This is me talking as a friend.
He’s only going to run around on you. Do yourself a favor and stop before you
get hurt. You’re a smart, lovely girl. Don’t let him break you.”

“Jack Carson
will never break me.”

“I hope so,
Leah. Just…consider my advice. End this before it gets too serious, for your
own sake.”

She was right,
more than she realized. I excused myself and marched to my office. My emails
dinged with a dozen new requests for information, interviews, statements, and
explanations. My first priority was spinning the accident and details of Jack’s
latest indiscretion.

But I couldn’t
do it now.

Jack’s plan
wouldn’t work. We had to stage a breakup before the lie spiraled any further
out of control.

I took an early
lunch and raced to the Rivets’ practice facility, slipping through security
with a flash of an issued badge courtesy of Ironfield’s star, trouble-making
quarterback. Usually publicists didn’t get access to the field, but most
publicists handled
normal
clients—clients who showed up on time, did
their jobs as best they could, and managed their sponsorships with an ounce of
professionalism.

I stormed
through the tunnels and onto the field. The team wasn’t in training camp yet,
but the players were encouraged to return to standard practices and exercises
in preparation for the season. I thanked my lucky stars Jack was back where he
belonged. He could make a spectacle out of himself on the field instead of in a
bar, public restroom, concert venue, or roadside accident.

I didn’t
recognize the receiver who caught the pass in the end zone, but he circled
around the goal posts and walked beside me on the sidelines. His dreads clacked
with crimson beads, matching his eventual uniform once the guys donned pads to
practice. He grinned. It was a nice smile, but I knew where his goodwill was
aimed.

“Hey, there,
baby. I was hungry for something sweet.”

He was a worse
flirt than Jack. I wasn’t in the mood. Didn’t stop him from trying.

“You’re the
little drop of chocolate I’d love to—”

Caleb West, the
largest man on the team as well as the gentlest teddy bear they signed,
thundered from the sidelines to my side. He carried a water bottle and nearly
chucked it at the receiver’s head.

“Whoa.” He
jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “She’s too good a girl for you. Beat it,
rookie.”

The receiver
scowled, took his chances, then bolted when Caleb took a step too close.

“Thanks,” I
said.

“No problem,
little lady.” Caleb grinned. “You’re not here for me, are ya?”

“Not today, but
do you remember you have a radio show tomorrow afternoon, broadcasting live
from the new sushi place on fifth?”

“Yes, ma’am.
Looking forward to it. Bringing my kids so I can see their faces when I give
them raw fish. They still haven’t forgiven me for squid ink pasta.”

“Why can’t all
my clients be like you?”

He laughed. “You
here to kick Jack’s ass?”

“Changed out of
my heels into flats to do it.”

Caleb pointed to
the crowd of players running exercises. The men were working on a feat of
strength that ached my abs just watching.

“Give him
hell…but leave him in one piece?” Caleb said. “We’d like to make it back to the
championship.”

“A quarterback
doesn’t need
both
kneecaps, does he?”

Caleb sauntered
away, shunning me as a hellcat. He had no idea.

I picked a
cautious path between segments of the team completing their conditioning
exercises and running laps. Now was the toughest time for the players. Eighty
men competed for fifty-three active roster spots—every one of the players
bigger, badder, and built stronger than the last.

Jack was no
exception.

In the hot July
morning, he shed his shirt and sweated with every completed rep of his
crunches. He didn’t take a break or a breath before flipping onto his stomach
and leading his men in a variety of push-ups that only tightened every muscle
in his absolutely flawless form.

His entire body
was ripped, bulging with muscles, tattoos, glistening sweat.