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End Zone: Texas Titans 2
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End Zone
Book Two in the Texas Titans Series
Cheryl Douglas
Copyright © by Cheryl Douglas
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, including photocopying, graphic, electronic, mechanical, taping, recording, sharing, or by any information retrieval system without the express written permission of the author and / or publisher. Exceptions include brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Persons, places and other entities represented in this book are deemed to be fictitious. They are not intended to represent actual places or entities currently or previously in existence or any person living or dead. This work is the product of the author’s imagination.
Any and all inquiries to the author of this book should be directed to: [email protected]
End Zone © 2013 Cheryl Douglas
End Zone—Book Two
High Rollers marketing director, Matt Hudson, has had a thing for Kristen Beck for as long as he can remember. She was the untouchable prom queen who was out of his league back in high school, but the tables have turned. Since Matt was named one of cities most eligible bachelors, he can have his pick of beautiful women. As soon as he sees a magazine profile touting the success of a certain sexy event planner, he knows he’s found the one he wants.
Ever since her magazine feature, Kristen Beck has had more job offers than she knows what to do with, but when her irreplaceable assistant demands a stress leave, Kristin knows she can’t afford to take on any more projects. When one of the partners in the High Rollers chain offers her a lucrative contract, she regretfully declines.
But she has no idea Matt Hudson isn’t willing to take no for an answer.
Chapter One
As Matt Hudson stared at the glossy magazine on his desk, he knew he’d found the answer to his prayers. Kristen Beck. She had been the object of his adolescent fantasies, but high school seemed like a lifetime ago. He wasn’t the same geeky kid who couldn’t get a date with the prom queen even if he’d offered her an obscene amount of money.
Lasik eye surgery had replaced his thick glasses. The best physical trainer in the state helped him gain six-pack abs he was proud to sport while playing beach volleyball. The kid with two left feet had grown up and found passion in taking extreme risks that would deem him certifiable in most circles. His days of caring what other people thought of him were over.
He’d come into his own and developed his identity as a partner in the High Rollers chain. In one short week, he could attend his high school reunion and silence the bullies who used to shove him into lockers and steal his lunch money. He’d return with a smug smile, a Rolex, a black Amex, and a limo parked at the curb.
According to entertainment magazines, he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. Only one woman could take him off the market: his fantasy girl. When he’d laid eyes on Kristen Beck during his freshman year, he’d said to his friends, “I’m going to marry that girl someday.” They laughed uproariously, but he knew the day would come when he would get the last laugh.
Matt’s partner and company president, Jaxon Davis, strolled into his office without knocking, which was par for the course.
“Most people know that a closed door means knock, dumbass,” Matt said, glaring at him. “Unlike you, I work for a living.” No one worked harder than Jaxon, but Matt enjoyed getting a reaction out of his long-time friend.
“Whatever. I don’t have time for your B.S. today. We need to talk about the anniversary party.” Jaxon sank into the guest chair. “Have you hired an event planner yet?”
“Funny you should ask.” Matt tapped his engraved silver pen against his lower lip. “I was just thinking about that.” Matt slid the magazine across the desk. “What do you think of her?”
Jaxon’s eyes widened when he saw Kristen wearing a short black dress, standing against a backdrop of orchids floating in a multi-tiered waterfall. The picture had been taken last month at a political fundraiser she’d planned. “Holy hell.” Jaxon picked up the magazine, scrutinizing the photo. “That’s gotta be air-brushed, don’t you think? No woman is that perfect.”
“Kristen Beck is.” If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have remained Matt’s fantasy.
“You know her?” Jaxon asked, looking skeptical. “How?”
“We went to high school together.”
Jaxon laughed as he tossed the magazine on the desk. “Which means she probably doesn’t even know you’re alive. No offense, buddy, but I saw your yearbook pics, remember? You weren’t exactly a lady killer.”
“Kristen and I were friends.” Okay, friends might be a stretch, but he believed she would remember him. After all, he had been the reason she passed calculus. If not for him, she would have been kicked off the cheerleading squad, and according to her, her daddy would have taken the keys to her car.
Kristen hadn’t been like all the other cheerleaders. She was sweet. She paid attention when he tutored her instead of rolling her eyes and popping her bubble gum before asking if he could just do the work for her. He remembered exactly what she said as she planted an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. “If you ever need anything, Matt, just ask. I owe you big time.” The time had finally come to collect.
“So you think she’ll agree to plan our anniversary bash?” Jaxon scanned the headline proclaiming Kristen the state’s premiere event planner. “My guess is she probably has more business than she knows what to do with.”
“You might be right.” Matt raised a shoulder. “But I can be pretty persuasive.” He hadn’t always been that way. A decade of dating beautiful women had taught him how to play the game.
In college, he’d started to come in to his own. When his father bought him a Porsche for his twenty-first birthday, he realized what it would take to turn the head of a woman like Kristen: money and lots of it. He’d always had family money, but unlike his younger brother, he wasn’t satisfied to live off his trust fund. He wanted to make his own mark in the world, and he had. High Rollers was a big mark, and he had been an integral part of their success. He was the branding expert who’d turned High Rollers into a household name. They had a high-end sports bar in every state across the country.
“If you say so,” Jaxon said, standing. “Have you offered her the job yet?”
“No, I’m gonna look her up online. I think I’ll pass by her office instead of calling. Nothing like shock value working in your favor, right?”
Jaxon laughed. “You said she hasn’t seen you since high school? Yeah, she’ll be shocked all right. Good luck. Let me know how it goes, okay?”
“Will do.”
***
Kristen tried to hold on to her patience as her assistant dabbed her eyes with a balled-up tissue.
“I just need a little time to pull myself together, Kristen. This breakup with Ben really hit me hard. I was so sure he was the one, ya know?”
Kristen tried to refrain from rolling her eyes. Shell was brilliant and creative, but she’d been looking for the one for most of her forty-nine years. She kept picking one loser after another, convinced each and every time that she’d found the man of her dreams. After four years of working together, Kristen had gotten a little tired of her front row seat to the horror show known as Shell’s love life. She suspected part of the reason she didn’t date much was because she was afraid of ending up like Shell.
“I’d love to be able to give you a little time, Shell, but you know we’re booked straight through the holidays. I need you.”
Shell sniffed delicately. “You know the last thing I’d want to do is let you down. You’ve been like a sister to me, but I have to put myself first for once. I need this time away.”
Kristen took a deep breath. Shell was the glue that held her business together. She couldn’t afford to lose her permanently. “How much time are we talking about?”
“My mother’s not using her condo in Florida right now. I think I’ll go there for a month, regroup, try to figure out where to go from here.”
Kristen rubbed her temples, wishing she was the type to down a stiff drink or two in the middle of the day. Given her mother’s history with alcohol, Kristen was careful about not using it as a crutch. “A stress leave, that’s what you called it?” Not that the label mattered. The bottom line was that she was losing her right hand for at least a month.
Given how flighty Shell was, she could very well go to Florida and find the next love of her life. She’d stay there a few months, or however long it took for her to become too clingy and sabotage the new relationship. Then she’d come back claiming she needed a diversion, like work, to get back on track. They’d been down that road before. Given how long it would take her to train someone new, Kristen’s hands were tied. She’d have to find a way to survive without Shell for the next four weeks—or longer, if it came to that.
“You know I hate to do this to you, hon,” Shell said, pouting until her collagen-infused lower lip looked as if it might join her chin. “I know how busy we are, but I’d be useless to you if I stayed.” She waved a manicured hand in front of her face. “You know how I get all weepy after a breakup.”
Not to mention whiny. Like the world is coming to an end. “I hate to lose you, Shell, especially now.” Kristen sank back in her chair, wishing she had it in her to threaten or at the very least cajole. She’d never been a hard-nosed boss, and she didn’t have the energy for another pep talk. Maybe Shell leaving until she was over her broken heart was best for both of them.
“Consider two of the four weeks my paid vacation, and don’t even worry about paying me for the other two weeks,” Shell said. “I’ll get by without a paycheck.”
Of course you will, living at your mother’s beachfront penthouse rent-free. Tough life. Kristen hadn’t taken a vacation in the six years since she’d started her business. The odds of her taking one with an emotionally unstable assistant like Shell were lessening by the second. Her mother and stepfather were hounding her to join them for skiing in Vermont over the holidays, but that was her busiest season. She’d probably have a frozen TV dinner in front of her broken gas fireplace on Christmas day again. Not that she was feeling sorry for herself… much.
“What can I say, Shell?” Kristen pulled her hair free of her ponytail when her head started to ache. “You’re a grown woman. I can’t force you to stay here. I can threaten to fire your ass, but we both know I’d just be blowing smoke. With the holiday season right around the corner, I need you.”
With a wide smile, Shell stood, smoothing her tight gray skirt. “You’re a doll.” She blew Kristen kisses as she backed out the door. “I’ll text you to let you know I got there safely.”
“Please do,” Kristen muttered, turning to face her monitor. She had a few hours of work to do before she could even think about calling it a day, maybe more after Shell’s little announcement.
“Oh, excuse me,” said a deep male voice Kristen could have sworn she recognized.
Her head snapped up, and her eyes locked with a hauntingly familiar gaze. She searched her memory to try to place him. She prayed he wasn’t some forgettable date from a lifetime ago trying to coax her into giving him another chance.
The man’s hands were around Shell’s waist. She’d obviously bumped into him when she was backing out of the room, and she seemed in no hurry to extricate herself from the handsome stranger’s grasp. Recognizing that he could be a potential client, Kristen shot her employee a warning glare, which Shell predictably ignored. As soon as a handsome man entered the room, Shell couldn’t focus on anything or anyone else. He dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back.
Standing, Kristen offered him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, were you looking for someone?”
“I think I’ve found her.” He gave her a quick once-over before a slow smile revealed straight white teeth. “The years have been good to you, Kristen.”
She could have sworn her heart skipped a beat. How did she know him? More importantly, why was her body responding as though she’d known him intimately? She’d only been intimate with two men: her former fiancée, the lawyer who occupied the office down the hall, and her college boyfriend. Whenever Shell claimed that was just sad, Kristen claimed her career took all of her time. That was true, but she had to admit it was kind of sad.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” he asked.
His smile morphed into a full-on grin, and Kristen had to reach for her desk to avoid being bowled over by the power of their sexual chemistry. “No, uh, should I?”
“No.” He slid a hand into the pocket of his dress pants and propped a shoulder against the doorframe. “In fact, I might have been a little offended if you had recognized me.”
Getting more confused by the minute, Kristen noticed Shell was still in the room. “Don’t you have to go home and pack, Shell?” Kristen tried to ignore the thrill bumps rising on her skin. Thankfully, she was wearing a black turtleneck and black skinny pants, so he wouldn’t notice them.
“I guess so,” she said, sighing dramatically. “I always miss the good stuff.”
“Good-bye,” Kristen said firmly. She waited until Shell had slipped past her guest and out the door before she lowered into her chair. “I’m sorry about that. Shell has quite a flair for dramatics, but she’s a creative genius.”
“I’ve heard you’re the genius behind this operation,” he said, casting a quick glance around her spacious, well-appointed office.
Since she often met clients in her office, she’d gone to the expense of leasing space in an upscale building and taking months to painstakingly select every accessory. “That’s nice of you to say. Do you mind if I ask how you heard about us?” Then she remembered he’d spoken of their past. She watched him move through the room as if he belonged there. He admired her accessories and art before moving to the bank of windows that overlooked the city. “I’m sorry, do you mind filling in the blanks for me? You said we know each other, but I honestly can’t remember—”
“High school.” He looked more amused than offended. “Matt Hudson. I tutored you in calculus.”
Kristen shook her head in disbelief. She remembered Matt Hudson, the sweet, shy, geeky guy who’d tried to hide the fact that he had a crush on her. That kid had a bad complexion, wore thick glasses, had braces, and looked as though he could use one of her mother’s famous pulled pork sandwiches. “No. No way.”
Matt threw his head back and laughed, and she felt heat pooling in her belly. She had never heard a sexier sound, though she knew he didn’t intend it to be.
“Would you like to see my driver’s license?” he asked.
She did want to see some evidence, but that would be ridiculous. He had no reason to lie to her about who he was. “That won’t be necessary, Matt.” She smiled to ease the awkwardness. “Please, have a seat and tell me why you’re here. I know you didn’t just decide to look me up after all this time.”
“You’re right, I’m here for a reason.”
“Let’s hear it.” She pointed to the chair across from her. She tried to quash her disappointment that he had an ulterior motive for stopping by. Of course he did. Men didn’t look up their high school crushes after fifteen years, especially men who’d morphed into sex gods.
He walked toward the guest chair and unbuttoned his black blazer before sitting. “Have you heard of High Rollers?”
Kristen caught herself staring at the black hair peeking out from the top of his white button-down shirt and prayed he hadn’t caught her gawking. “Of course, who hasn’t?” Trying to appear professional to hide her completely inappropriate reaction to him, she laced her fingers on the desk top and offered a cool smile.
“I’m part owner.
My partners and I are celebrating—” He paused, chuckling when her mouth dropped open.
Recognizing her faux pas, she quickly snapped her mouth shut. “I’m sorry, did you just say you’re a partner in High Rollers?” She knew the popular chain was owned by six friends, but the only one she knew of was a professional baseball player whose name escaped her.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’m not the first geek to do big things after high school.”
“I didn’t mean… I mean, I just never thought…” She was usually so calm and collected. What was it about Matt that turned her into a bumbling idiot? “I’m sorry, you were telling me about High Rollers. Please go on.” Before I crawl under the desk and hide until you’re forced to leave or call fire and rescue to drag me out.
“We’re celebrating our ten-year anniversary next month, and I was hoping you could help us plan the party to end all parties.”
She leaned in, trying to figure out whether he’d had cosmetic surgery. A man couldn’t go from painfully awkward to model-perfect in less than two decades without a little help from a skilled surgeon.
“You look like you want to ask me something,” he said, casually crossing one leg over the other. “Don’t be shy.”
Why did he look so collected while she felt as though someone had plucked her from her orderly world and dropped her on another planet? “No… uh, I mean yes.” She should ask him something if only to draw attention away from the fact that she was staring at him as if he’d sprouted a third head. “Tell me what kind of party you had in mind.” She couldn’t take on the assignment though, not since Shell had left her high and dry. Damn her. Kristen had to admit she wouldn’t mind working alongside Matt Hudson.
“Well, High Rollers is a sports bar, but it’s not a typical beer-and-wings place. We’ll want a classier party since we attract a more upscale crowd: athletes, businessmen who can afford season tickets, retired players, coaches, that kind of thing. Some of the guys just love to come in and waste the day away talking about their glory days with people who appreciate the fact they once had the talent to go all the way to the big leagues.”