Take Me (11 page)

“Hello?” she said breathlessly, taking a few steps toward the windows and away from the watchful eyes of Jay Havens. What was his problem anyway? Didn’t he have somewhere to be? A baseball practice or a blackjack table or a strip club or something?

“Alyssa,” her boss, Isobel, barked into the phone. “Just checking in. Are you there?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m here. And there’s been a little bit of a – ”

“You in with Billingsley yet?”

“No,” Alyssa said. She was starting to get a headache. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. He’s not here.”

“What do you mean he’s not there?” Isobel sounded shocked.

“I mean he’s not here. He missed our meeting. At least, I think he did, he – ”

“Well, then get out of there!” Isobel said, now gleeful. “He missed the meeting, end of story.” Isobel was an okay boss, although she talked too much and was always interrupting. She was also bullheaded and stubborn, and she was hoping that this story was going to be something that painted the Brooklyn Heat and their organization in a bad light. Scandals equaled lots of web traffic, and lots of web traffic equaled lots of money.

“Are you sure?” Alyssa asked. “His secretary said he might come back. I could wait a few minutes just to make sure.”

“Get out of there,” Isobel said. She clicked off the phone.

Alyssa sighed and slid her phone back into her bag, ready to walk by Jay Havens with her head held high on her way to the elevator.
Take that,
she thought, you figured you could push me around, but I
’m
the one who’s leaving, and
I’m
the one who’s going to end up maybe writing about your cocky little smile tomorrow.

But when she turned around, Jay was gone.

~Chapter Two~

Jay Havens was relieved. Very relieved. The so-called reporter they’d sent to make sure the Heat was on the up and up was a complete mess. Definitely not used to reporting, definitely wanted to prove herself, and definitely hadn’t lived in Boston that long. He could tell by the way she stiffened up when he asked her. Probably she was from some small town, either New Jersey or upstate New York. He was guessing upstate, since anyone from New Jersey would have at least known their way around the city.

He chuckled to himself as he took the elevator down to the parking garage that was below the sports complex. He slid behind the wheel of his car, a new Aston Martin that was completely inappropriate for city driving. Jay didn’t care. He was from Texas, and he missed driving, spending his days exploring all the back roads in the middle of nowhere with his dog, Track, and his high school friends. He was getting ready to pull out of the garage when his cell phone rang.

“What the fuck is going on?” the voice of his agent, Steve Concord, came screeching through the line.

Jay sighed. “Steve,” he said. “I can explain.”

“Explain? You better fucking explain!”

“He was being unrealistic,” Jay said. “He was getting up in my business about how I spend my time.”

When Jay had told Jensen the security guard that Cliff Billingsley had stormed out the complex because of the ticket sales numbers, he wasn’t lying. But it had only been part of the story. The ticket sales numbers
were
pretty dismal, yeah. But Old Man Billingsley had somehow decided that Jay was to blame. Which was completely ridiculous. It wasn’t
Jay’s
fault that the seats weren’t getting filled. He was doing his part. His batting average was over three hundred, and he was definitely going to be in the running for a Golden Glove.

Besides, it wasn’t the stats that were keeping the fans away – it was the team’s reputation. It wasn’t exactly family friendly.

“Jay,” Steve said, “he’s paying you millions of fucking dollars, he has the right to be unreasonable.”

“Fuck him,” Jay said. “He’s trying to put a curfew on me! Home by eleven!

That’s bullshit, Steve, and I don’t need it. I’m not Derek fucking Jeter.”

He was out of the car now, pacing up and down the garage, his energy making him all jumpy.

“Look,” Steve said. “You have to keep the peace. Try a little harder. If you get let out of your contract, it’s going to be hard to find another team to pick you up. It won’t matter your numbers, Jay, your reputation is going to bury you. At least for a while. You ever heard of Lindsay Lohan? Drugs and partying and stealing that necklace and boom, done.”

“I’m not Lindsay Lohan,” Jay said, rolling his eyes.

“No, you’re not,” Steve said. “You’re nowhere near as good looking.”

Jay laughed.

“Look,” Steve said. “I agree with you, Jay, I do. But we gotta do something to show him that you’re trying. I’m not saying go crazy or anything, but you gotta meet him at halfway. At least for a little while.”

Jay thought about it. And then it came to him. The perfect idea. That reporter.

Alyssa or whatever. He’d befriend her. Get her to write good things about him in her little blog. And then, once that happened, he’d be back on Billingsley’s good side.

“Steve,” he said, “I gotta go.”

“What?” Steve said. “Wait a minute, we have to go over the – ”

Jay ended the call, then immediately dialed upstairs. “Hello, Cliff Billingsley’s office,” the secretary said.

“Hey, Kylie,” Jay said. “It’s Jay.”

“Hi, Jay,” Kylie said. “What can I do for you?”

“You know that reporter that was just in there?”

“Alyssa?”

“Yeah. Do you happen to have her cell phone number?”

***

The hotel was right down the street from the Lerner Sports Complex, a fact that Alyssa appreciated, as it meant she didn’t have too far to walk. And since all she wanted to do was take a hot bath and curl up under the covers while ordering a pay-per-view movie, the short walk was even more of a plus.

She’d order room service, she decided as she walked down the hall to her room.

Pasta and bread, and maybe even a dessert. Usually she watched her carbs, or at least tried to, but if anyone needed comfort food, it was her.

She slid the card they’d given her at the front desk into the door of her room, and then pushed it open. She dropped her suitcase and bag on the floor, then flopped down on the bed.

She closed her eyes for a moment, glad she was here and not in a meeting with Cliff Billingsley. Then she got up, drew herself a nice warm bath, and spent the next forty minutes soaking in the tub.

She got out and wrapped herself in a warm fluffy towel, then dressed in a soft pink t-shirt and comfy pajama pants, and ordered a cheeseburger and mac and cheese from room service. She was flipping through the Lifetime movies on the TV, and was just settling on one called HER FAVORITE MISTAKE, which starred Jennie Garth and was about a woman who ended up having sex with a guy who turned out to be a good mistake, when there was a knock on the door.

Thinking it was her room service, Alyssa answered it without looking through the peephole, which was a very stupid move, since everyone knew you were supposed to look through the peephole in case it was a serial killer. But it wasn’t a serial killer. It was Jay Havens.

Alyssa’s mouth dropped. “What… what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Can I come in?” He pushed past her into the room before Alyssa could answer.

“What are you talking about? Is Mr. Billingsley back? Does he want to see me?”

Alyssa was hoping not. All she wanted was her mac and cheese and a nap.

“No,” Jay said.
“I
wanted to see you.” He sat down on her bed and glanced at the TV. “Lifetime? Huh. Weird, I didn’t peg you as a Lifetime fan.”

Alyssa picked up the remote and switched off the screen. “So what if I am?” she asked. “Lifetime movies are nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“No, I agree,” Jay said. “Did you see the one where Henry Winkler dressed up as Santa?”

“I think so,” Alyssa said. “Was that the one with – ” she broke off when she saw that same arrogant smile playing on his lips. He was messing with her. “Get out,” she said.

“What?” He leaned back on the bed, stretching his long legs out across the comforter. God, he was tall. Alyssa was tall herself, five foot eight, but next to him, she felt tiny.

“Get out,” she said. “Unless you have a reason for being here.”

“I do.”

“What is it?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“You already said that.” She crossed her arms and waited.

“Look,” he said, sitting up. He flashed her a smile, and then got up off the bed, crossing the room toward her. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’d like to start over.”

He held his hand out, and Alyssa hesitated, then took it. His grip was warm and firm, and his hand was huge, enveloping hers until it disappeared. A bolt of electricity shot up her fingers and moved through her body. It threw her for a loop, and it was all she could do not to take a step back.

“Anyway,” Jay said. “I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to go out for dinner in Manhattan. I could show you around New York.”

“No thank you,” she said, still thrown by the way her body was reacting to his closeness. “I already have important dinner plans.”

He looked surprised, and raised his eyebrows. “You do? What kind?”

There was a knock on the door, and then a waiter yelled, “Room service!”

“Those are your important plans?”

“Yes,” Alyssa said, crossing the room to the door. She opened it, and the waiter wheeled the cart into the room. Alyssa signed for it, and thanked him. When the waiter saw Jay sitting there, his eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” he said. “Jay Havens!”

“In the flesh,” Jay said, flashing his grin. “What’s your name, man?”

“Carlos,” the man said. “I’m a huge fan.” So then Alyssa had to wait while Jay made a big production of signing an autograph for Carlos’s son, and then Carlos admitted that the autograph was really for him, so then Jay insisted that he sign another one for the son. The whole thing was very jovial and ridiculous, and once Carlos was gone, Alyssa turned around and glared at Jay.

“So that’s how it works, huh? You’re a jerk in real life, but then when the fans come around, you turn into Mr. Nice Guy?”

“I haven’t been a jerk to you,” Jay said easily. He picked up the metal dome on the cart and looked down at the mac and cheese. “Mac and cheese?” he asked incredulously. “What are you, twelve?”

“That,” Alyssa said, “is why you’re a jerk.” She took the dome out of his hand and slammed it back down on the plate.

“I’m a jerk because I don’t like mac and cheese?”

“You’re a jerk because you questioned my choice of food,” Alyssa said. “And also yes, because you don’t like mac and cheese. Who doesn’t like mac and cheese?”

“Me,” Jay said. “I prefer mashed potatoes, or maybe like a chicken pot pie.”

Alyssa watched incredulously as he picked up the hotel room phone and pushed zero.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Ordering room service,” he said. “I can’t eat that, I don’t like it.” He frowned at her. “You really should have asked me what I wanted. I mean, it was kind of rude.”

“I didn’t know you were coming! You barged in here with no warning!”

Jay held a finger to his lips to shush her while he waited for the person on the other end of the line to answer. Alyssa walked over and pushed down the button, hanging the phone up. “Hey!” Jay said. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because you’re leaving.”

“No, I’m not.” He pushed the zero. She hung up. He pushed the zero. She hung up. He pushed the zero, and this time, Alyssa went to take the phone out of his hand. He grabbed her wrist playfully, and that same shot of heat flew through her body, only this time, she felt it hit between her legs.

She went to pull her hands away, but he grinned and pulled her closer, down onto the bed on top of him.

“Do you say uncle?” he said gruffly.

“No,” she replied, determined not to let some cocky baseball player get the best of her. Even if he was hot. She rolled over and grabbed the cord of the receiver out of the phone, then stuffed it down her pants and sat up, backing across the hotel room.

“Now, now,” Jay said, leaning back and giving her another slow grin. “Don’t make me come and get that.”

Alyssa swallowed, suddenly aware of the thin t-shirt she was wearing, with no bra on underneath. She felt her nipples harden at the thought of Jay crossing the room and wrestling with her some more.

“Don’t even try it,” she said.

“Okay, fine.” Jay was sitting up now, and he picked up the fork that was on the room service tray and took a bite of mac and cheese. He grimaced. “That’s it,” he said.

“Come on, we’re leaving.” He looked at Alyssa. “Actually, no, don’t come on, at least until you get dressed. You can’t go out looking like that.”

“Where are we going?”

“Out,” he said. “I’m taking you to dinner. A real dinner, not this hotel food crap.”

Alyssa was about to say no again, but then she thought about it. He was probably expecting her to say no, and she figured he would love that. Then he could talk all about how he tried to get to know her, how he even offered to take her to dinner, but that she wouldn’t budge. The stubborn reporter didn’t even want to hang out with him, he would say, she didn’t care about the real story, she just wanted to write what she thought would get web hits, and so she didn’t give him a fair chance.

In the end, it was her job that made the decision for her. The bottom line was that this was her first real assignment, the first time she’d been given a chance to prove herself. She’d wanted to be a writer ever since she was a little girl, and she was damned if some conceited jerk like Jay Havens was going to jeopardize that.

“Give me ten minutes,” she said, heading into the bathroom. Jay was right about one thing – she couldn’t go out looking the way she did. She just hoped the hotel had a hair dryer.

***

Jay sat back on the bed, waiting for Alyssa, and tried not to think about the way his body had reacted when they’d been wrestling over the phone. He’d seen her nipples get hard through her tiny t-shirt, and he’d felt himself getting aroused. But why? She was definitely not his normal type. He liked blonde hair, skimpy clothes, and women he knew weren’t going to be much of a challenge. Keep it simple, no attachments, that kind of thing.