"Ty Calhoun?" Amy's voice notched up a note. "No freakin' way. You couldn't have. You hate football. You hate sports stars. Even incredibly hot ones like him." She fanned herself. "Damn, that man is hot."
Amy didn't know about Julie's past with Ty; no one did. She'd never wanted to admit even to her closest friend that she'd been so naive, so pathetically in love with someone who would never ever love her back. The time had come for confessing.
"Promise you won't hate me for not telling you about this before. I'm not good at telling secrets. Especially ones that make me look stupid." She paused for a long moment. "The thing is, I used to know Ty Calhoun. A long time ago."
"When? I've known you since college, met practically every guy you ever dated. And I definitely would have remembered if he'd taken you out."
"We went to high school together."
"Oh."
Julie was amazed how many meanings one short word could have.
"We didn't hang out. Not until the graduation party."
Amy put her hand over her heart in empathy. "Please tell me he wasn't the guy you chose to lose your virginity to."
Julie had never felt more stupid. "Everything seemed so different that night. He was different. Needless to say, things didn't work out between us."
"So that explains why we never take the athletic contracts." Amy went into problem-solving mode.
"What do you need me to do for you?"
Julie had never appreciated her best friend and right-hand woman more. "I can't see him again."
"I guessed. And I'm also guessing that you don't want to hook the Outlaws up with a new company, right?"
"Of course not. I need the money, for the building."
"Okay then, consider Ty my problem from now on." Amy grinned. "And you can be absolutely certain that I will exact painful revenge upon him for hurting you."
Finally, Julie found a smile. "Good. And thank you."
Amy fiddled with her wedding ring for a few seconds, and Julie knew what she wanted to ask.
"Since I know you're wondering," she told her friend, "it was great." Amy laughed, helping Julie finally break out of her self-pity. "Thank you for telling me. I've been married for so long, I need to live vicariously through you."
The rest of the day, as Julie threw herself into her work, she waited for relief to wash over her. Ty was Amy's problem now. They'd conduct all of their meetings outside the office; Amy would accompany him to charity events; she'd be the one teaching him how to give his fans a chaste peck on the cheek in 11 out of the cameras, or better yet, a handshake.
But relief never came. Instead, during her South Beach Diet meal for one that evening, she found herself worrying about Ty's effect on her best friend. Could any woman really withstand that charm, the sensual power he wielded? What if Amy fell for him? Ty was the ultimate woman magnet—even an intelligent, married woman like Amy wouldn't be able to help herself. What if Ty came between Amy and her husband, Jon? Julie would never forgive herself for pawning him off on her friend if that happened. If she'd had a male employee, she would have passed Ty off to him in an instant. Julie hated how inadequate everything about her life and her business seemed a mere twelve hours after Ty had swaggered back into her life. She'd been happy, damn it. She'd enjoyed quiet nights at home, pleasant dates, occasional affairs that quickly fizzled out. How boring it now seemed in comparison to him. His house was an all-day party, and even his private underground room outdid her sleek, unfussy home across from Golden Gate Park.
Unable to sleep that night, she didn't know why she'd even bothered going to bed. She tried to convince herself that her excess energy was nothing more than anger at the way Ty had manipulated her into being with him again, but every cell in her body called her a liar.
She had taken the job, gone to his house, let him take her clothes off all because she wanted to be with him again. She'd been so desperate for more sex with him that she'd been perfectly willing to give up all of the principles by which she lived her life. Just like the first time. How was it that five seconds with Ty made her lose hold of everything she was? Everything she'd worked so hard to build?
And worse, why did she want nothing more than to have him here with her, in her bed, making her call out his name? Especially when she'd vowed never to be in the same room with him ever again?
Ty was bored. Strip clubs had been a lot of fun when he was twenty-one, but as the years went by, he felt more and more like a dirty old man watching young dancers shimmy in their G-strings and tassels. He'd had more than his fair share of groupies, stuffed twenties into countless G-strings. The women's faces all started to blur together after a while.
Still, he tried to look like he was having a good time. After all, that was the whole point of tonight. He'd called his friends and told them to meet him at the Hustler Club. It was imperative that he be surrounded by a party and plenty of naked women, that people got drunk enough to whip out their cell phones and take pictures of him.
Somebody would try to make some money off the shot, and then he'd have Julie right where he wanted her.
Until then, he supposed he'd have to keep stuffing dollar bills into the dancers' G-strings, maybe even get a lap dance or two, make some personal sacrifices just to keep up the ruse. He grinned, already looking forward to seeing her bright and early tomorrow morning in Bobby's office.
The phone rang at 7:00 A.M., waking Julie out of a deep sleep. Saturday was the only day she allowed herself to sleep later than sunrise. But since she hadn't actually fallen asleep until what felt like a few minutes ago, she was completely disoriented when she picked up the phone. A southern drawl was the last thing she expected. "Ms. Spencer?" She quickly sat up in bed, pushed her hair back from her face. No way could the new owner of the Outlaws calling her bright and early on a Saturday morning be a good thing. She swallowed past the sawdust in her mouth.
"Speaking."
"I believe I hired you to reform the finest player on my team?" What had Ty done? Because whatever it was, she had to hand it to him: He'd gotten the big guns to come out shooting.
Right at her chest.
"Yes, sir," she said. "Mr. Calhoun and I met briefly yesterday to go over our preliminary plan."
"Did your plan include late-night visits to strip clubs, my dear?" Strip clubs? Oh, God! Shock and hurt hit her square across the chest. He'd gone from her nearly naked body straight to a stranger's naked body.
She knew she didn't mean anything to him, but it hurt to have it slap her in the face. Before she managed to get her brain around a reply, he said, "We're in my office waiting for you. Aren't we, Mr. Calhoun?"
From a distance, she heard Ty call out, "Hey, Julie. You missed a real fun time last night." His nerve was almost as enormous as his ego.
"I'm on my way," she bit out, but the phone was already dead in her hands. While she set a speed record for showering, getting dressed, and putting on makeup, Julie imagined all the different ways she could murder Ty. But nothing she could think of was either gory enough or involved enough prolonged torture to suit her.
She wanted blood and by God, she was going to get it.
CHAPTER NINE
Good morning, sunshine."
The smile that Julie pinned on her face nearly disintegrated in the face of Ty's cheerful, too-gorgeous-for-his-own-good-and-hers-too greeting.
After a night of carousing, it just wasn't fair that he should look so good. He was still an irresistible bundle of muscles and heat, his long tanned fingers stroking the arm of his chair, as if he wished he was caressing skin rather than cold leather.