Power Play (Play Makers Book 4) (38 page)

“He did the same thing to me on our first
date. Erica, Erica, Erica. Not that she’s not the best, but
seriously?”

“The question is: does she actually smell
that good?”

“Sadly, yes,” Rachel joked. “But Kerrie
needs to understand what a great ally she is. You’ve been great
too, obviously. So?” she said, interrupting herself briskly. “One
thirty?”

“I’ll be there. In jeans and an old blouse,
unfortunately.”

“You’ll fit right in,” Rachel assured her.
“See you in a few.”

• • •

Darcie’s group was on their feet, waving
wildly, as soon as she walked into the crowded restaurant. Rachel
looked as perfect as ever with her willowy beach-babe aura, which
contrasted sharply with Erica’s dark, wavy hair and electric
energy.

But the Elevator Girl stole the show, at
least for Darcie. So fresh and pretty with a huge welcoming smile
on her face.

Just perfect for Jake,
Darcie
decided.

Rachel walked over and hugged her. “Thanks
for coming, Darce. I know you’re busy, what with saving Romanov’s
career and all.”

“I’ll never live it down,” Darcie said
lightly. “Thanks for inviting me, Rachel.”

They strolled to the table, where Erica
embraced her just as fondly. “I’m dying to talk to you, but first,
you have to meet Sophie or she’ll burst from curiosity. You must
have made an
incredible
impression on Jake.”

“Hi, Sophie.”

Sophie’s blue eyes twinkled. “Is it all
true?
Please
tell me it is. You’re dating the Surgeon?”

“Oh.” Darcie laughed nervously. “Not
exactly. We met on a plane and we’ve been hanging out
occasionally.”

“Don’t toy with us,” Sophie teased.
“Honestly, Darcie. You look exactly like your picture.”

Darcie’s brain flashed on the sophisticated
photo posted on the PMA website. “Not quite as airbrushed,” she
protested with a laugh. “And
you
look
exactly
like
Jake described you. Best story ever.”

“Do
not
try and change the subject.
Here, sit next to me.” Sophie led her to a chair and scooted close
to her, then waited while a server took her drink order and asked
what entrée she’d like.

“We’re all having seafood salads,” Sophie
told her, clearly trying to speed up the process.

“Sounds great, thanks,” Darcie said, handing
her unopened menu back to the waitress.

“Okay, tell us everything,” Sophie insisted.
“But first, you need to know Rachel has a ginormous crush on him.
So don’t be surprised if she faints.”

“That’s enough,” Rachel scolded her. Then
she gave Darcie an apologetic smile. “I made one tiny comment—three
months ago—that he was a nice-looking man—”

“No, you said if you had to pick an NFL stud
to sleep with, it would be the Surgeon,” Sophie corrected her.

“But only because I was secretly dating
Vince, so I couldn’t very well name
him,
could I?”

Erica jumped in with a broad smile. “We’re
all
in awe of you, Darcie. Wyatt Bourne is forbidden fruit
for a Lancer fan.”

Darcie eyed them in pretend disgust. “Is
this why you invited me to lunch?”

“Yep,” Sophie told her cheerfully. “So don’t
leave anything out. Please? We want to see Rachel drool. She’s
always such a goodie-goodie.”

“That’s
enough,”
Rachel warned.
“Honestly, Darcie. We’re just kidding. If you don’t want to talk
about it, that’s fine.”

Erica arched a teasing eyebrow. “Just throw
us one tiny morsel. Like: have you kissed him?”

Darcie waved a hand in the air. “Check
please!”

Everyone laughed, then Rachel explained,
“He’s just so good-looking. But not any more good-looking than
Johnny or Jake or Vince. So we’re just having fun with you.”

“He’s been pretty complimentary about you,
too,” Darcie said with a teasing smile.

“Pardon?”

“He noticed you at the concussion
fundraiser.”

“Seriously? What did he say?”

“Hmmm, what were his exact words?” she said,
pretending not to remember. Then she turned to Erica and said, “He
noticed you too. Said you were exactly the girl he’d picture for
Johnny.”

“Really?”

Darcie nodded. “Anyway, we’re just friends.
I mean, we dated a couple of times, but we backed off because it
really wasn’t practical.”

“Practical?” Sophie demanded. “Has he seen
the photo?”

Erica spurted a mouthful of water across the
table, then grinned apologetically. “Sorry, Darce. We weren’t going
to mention it, but leave it to Sophie.”

She stared, confused, then groaned. “You
mean the topless picture? I’m going to
murder
Sean.”

“Jake’s eyeballs are still melting,” Sophie
assured her. “But don’t blame Sean. Erica sent it to
me,
and
I showed it to Jake. Because we’re engaged, and that’s what engaged
people do.”

“So when I met him the other
day . . . ?”

“Yep. He was already in love.”

Darcie shook her head in disbelief.

“Sorry, Darcie,” Erica said, still smiling.
“It’s a Spurling Mafia thing. We don’t keep secrets in the family.
And of course, since Bam already had it, Rachel’s seen it too.”

“Spurling Mafia?”

“Sophie is Johnny’s cousin, remember?”

“Oh, God,
please
don’t tell me Coach
Spurling saw it too.”

“We made an exception for him,” Sophie
joked. “Because of his bad ticker.”

Darcie studied them in grim amusement. “So
basically you just brought me here to mock me?”

“And to hear if he’s a good kisser,” Sophie
reminded her.

Darcie hesitated, then flashed a teasing
smile. “Use your imagination.”

“Oh, my God.” Sophie fanned herself with the
wine list. “Will you bring him to my wedding?
Please?”

“We’re not dating. Plus, he’s forbidden
fruit at a Spurling event, right?”

“Do it for Rachel.
And
for me. I
really want you there. With or without the Surgeon. Preferably
with.”

“When is it? I’ll check my schedule.”

“Ugh, don’t make her postpone again,” Erica
said, rolling her eyes. “She’s already moved the date once. For a
good cause since her maid of honor needed surgery, but
still . . .”

Rachel smiled. “Erica’s right, Darce. If you
say you’re busy she’ll just pick another date. So
anyway . . .” she murmured. “What exactly did Wyatt
say about me? Just out of curiosity?”

Sophie crowed. “Didn’t I tell you? If you
bring him to the wedding,
promise
me you won’t introduce
them until I’m there to see it. It can be your wedding present to
me. Please?”

“If I come, and I bring Wyatt,” Darcie
agreed, “you’ll see her in full-drool mode. I promise.”

The salads arrived and everyone dug in while
Darcie answered more questions, mostly about Alexi Romanov. She
also updated Rachel on the house hunt, apologizing that she hadn’t
found the perfect house yet.

“There’s no hurry,” Rachel assured her. “I’m
teaching summer school until August, so even if we found something,
we wouldn’t move until then. I’m just so glad you’re helping
us.”

“It’s an impossible task,” Erica
sympathized. “Finding a place that suits a rowdy extrovert like Bam
and
a sweetie like Rachel?”

“I love a challenge.”

“Like the Surgeon?” Sophie teased.

“Drop it,” Rachel advised dryly.

Sophie laughed, then told Darcie, “Rachel
and Bam are singing at my wedding. So I’d better not piss her off
too much.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Rachel’s eyes
twinkled. “Thanks for sending that list of your favorite songs.
Before that—well, you were in trouble.”

“How?” Sophie asked.

“Vince and Jake were writing a song
together. Totally dorky. To the tune of ‘Brown Eyed Girl,’ but in
this case, ‘Elevator Girl.’”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Just the worst lyrics ever,” Rachel told
her sympathetically. “But now we can do something from your list
instead, thank God.”

“Sing it for me.”

“What?” Rachel winced. “I don’t actually
know it. And trust me, it’s awful.”

“Rachel, please?”

Rachel sighed. “You’ve heard the Van
Morrison song, haven’t you? ‘Brown Eyed Girl’? Like:
You, my-yi
brown eyed girl . . . ?”
She laughed at her
halting rendition. “I don’t actually know the new version. Except
substitute Elevator Girl for brown eyed girl and you’re basically
there.”

“I want to hear it.”

“Oh, okay.” Rachel pulled her phone from her
purse and pressed a key, then murmured, “Vince?”

From the instant blush on her face, Darcie
suspected Bam had said something hilariously dirty.

“Me too,” Rachel told him sheepishly. “But
I’m not alone. I’m at lunch with Erica and Darcie. And Sophie. She
wants to hear the Elevator Girl song. I’ll put you on speaker,
okay?”

Bam’s voice boomed over the phone. “Man,
talk about a bangable table.”

“Never mind that,” Rachel scolded him. “Can
you please sing the song?”

“Sure thing. But hold on for a second.”

Darcie felt a wave of fondness for him. Such
a great guy. And such a mismatch for Rachel, just like Erica had
said. Yet somehow they made it work.

Or rather, made it sizzle.

Bam’s voice returned, saying cheerfully,
“Hey, blondie?”

Apparently it was his nickname for Sophie
because she responded instantly. “I’m here.”

“Answer your phone.”

“What? Oh . . .” She grabbed
her now-vibrating phone and said to her lunch mates with an
embarrassed smile, “It’s Jake. Give me a sec.”

Darcie could hear the faint sounds of
crooning over the speaker, making his fiancée’s eyes light up with
excitement.

“Wow,” Erica whispered. “I guess it’s a good
song after all.”

“Who knew?” Rachel murmured. Then she told
her own fiancé, “Vince? She’s on with Jake.”

“Did the rookie take her shirt off again? Or
is that just for dudes?”

“You’re a dead man, Bam Bannerman,” Darcie
told him with a laugh. “Favorite client or not.”

“We’re hanging up,” Rachel added, also
laughing as she disconnected the call.

They all turned back to Sophie, who had
jumped up and now dumped three twenty-dollar bills on the table.
“This should cover my share. Gotta run.”

“Oh, my God, have some self-control,” Erica
teased her.

“I have a fever so I’m going straight to
bed,” Sophie said with a mischievous grin. “Rachel? Tell your
fiancé I heart him. Darcie? Come to my wedding. Erica? Grow
up.”

They watched as she disappeared toward the
exit, her cheeks flushed with arousal. “Wow,” Rachel said fondly.
“This is going to be one hot wedding. You really should come,
Darcie.”

“I’ll try.”

“No need to bring Wyatt Bourne, obviously.
We were just teasing.”

Erica gave Darcie a playful nudge. “You’d
better tell her what he said about her. She’s too polite to ask
again.”

Darcie laughed. “His exact words? He called
you beautiful, then corrected himself and said you were
stunning.”

Rachel seemed dazed as she murmured,
“Oh.”

“You broke her,” Erica said gleefully. “If
Bam could see this he’d go nuts. But don’t worry,” she assured
Rachel quickly. “It’s just between us. The Spurlings have
their
mafia. Now we have ours too.”

“Sean’s Harem?” Rachel suggested with a
light laugh. “Remember when Johnny called us that? He didn’t seem
too thrilled about it either. And you’re definitely in it now too,
Darce.”

Rachel and Erica proceeded to tell Darcie
their personal Sean stories. How he and Erica had bonded so
immediately and completely, it had always had a pseudo-romantic
tinge to it even though she was already his QB’s girl. And then
again when he dated Rachel, how he had seemed like a friend but
with a sexy vibe that took some getting used to.

But Darcie was barely listening. All she
could think about was Wyatt. Or rather, herself and Wyatt.

She had been so sure they couldn’t make it
as a couple. But hearing Rachel and Bam on the phone together, she
had come to an amazing realization.
They
were incompatible
too! In fact, they were a mess.

So why not Darcie and Wyatt?

Which meant they didn’t need a contract to
break up after all. They needed one to keep them
together
.
Get them past this rocky stage—the control issues, the snarking,
the bizarre self-sabotage—and onward to the kind of hot love an NFL
wild man had found with a mild-mannered schoolteacher.

Not that Wyatt was anything like Bam.
Because Bam—for all his blustery talk—had committed cheerfully to
one woman. Wanted to marry her. Wanted to make her dreams come
true. Having enjoyed his bachelorhood, he now embraced monogamy
with the same unflinching ardor.

In contrast, Wyatt had taken a vow against
marriage. So even if he did meet the right woman—and Darcie
believed he already had—could he really commit to her in the
traditional sense?

And if not, could the woman—aka Darcie—live
with that? Be his quote-unquote girlfriend forever? Be content with
the passionate love she felt for him. Maybe even have his baby?

She had seen the look in his eyes. Knew how
much he wanted her, not just sexually and romantically but as the
mother to his child. And even if he didn’t trust her completely,
she believed him when he said he trusted her more than anyone else
in the world.

Wasn’t that enough?

Or at the very least, wasn’t
this
the
conversation they should be having?

• • •

The new Jag—even sweeter than the first—was
wasted on the streets of LA, but Wyatt had looked forward to
driving Darcie up the coast. Cutting loose. Having drinks and
dinner then seeing where it led them. Or at least, that
had
been the plan.