Changing the Game (22 page)

It was all in keeping the balance. And she
would
maintain the balance.

Her cell buzzed, and she grabbed it off the table, hoping it wasn’t Gavin again.

It wasn’t Gavin. It was his mother.

Shit. Her stomach dropped, and she clicked the phone, hoping like hell Gavin’s father hadn’t had a relapse.

“Hello?”

“Elizabeth? It’s Kathleen Riley.”

“Hello, Kathleen. Is Jimmy okay?”

“He’s fine, dear, don’t worry.”

She blew out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. I’m so glad to hear that.”

“I’m calling about Gavin.”

“Oh.”

“You really fired him?”

This was going to be difficult. “It was getting to be too hard, Kathleen.”

“You don’t have to pull punches with me. I understand. Was he awful to you?”

There was only so much she was going to tell his mother. “There was a conflict of interest I couldn’t deny any longer. I was in love with him. I couldn’t represent his best interests with that kind of conflict. I had to make the break.”

“He said you won’t answer his calls.”

And he had his mother call to run interference? Really? “I’m working right now so I’ve been busy.”

“He said you haven’t been at home or at your office.”

Looking for her, was he? Good. “No, I’m in New York on business. Whatever he and I have to say to each other will have to wait.”

“I told him I wasn’t going to pressure you or pretend that this call was anything other than a fact-finding mission on his behalf.”

She smiled at that. “Thank you, Kathleen.”

“I hope you two are able to work things out.”

That wasn’t going to happen. “I’m glad you called. Please say hello to Jimmy for me.”

“I will, honey. You take care.”

Elizabeth laid the phone down on the nightstand and stared at her laptop, but the contract language had lost its appeal. She closed her laptop and sank under the covers, grabbed the remote and turned on the television, randomly flipping channels, hoping she could find something mindless to tune into until she fell asleep.

Her phone rang. She grabbed it from the nightstand, her heart squeezing when she saw it was Gavin. She laid it back down and focused on an animal show on the television.

When her phone buzzed again, she let the tears fall, no longer able to hold them inside.

TWENTY-THREE

GOING TO RILEY’S WAS PROBABLY A MISTAKE, BUT ELIZABETH wanted to talk to Jenna. It wasn’t like she had a lot of friends. She missed Shawnelle and Haley, but she wouldn’t be hanging out with them anytime soon now that she and Gavin were no longer a couple, and she wasn’t Gavin’s agent. Since she didn’t represent any other Rivers players, at least not at the moment, there would be no reason for her to attend any of their games.

Wasn’t it just so funny that someone who never had any female friends suddenly craved them?

She pulled up a seat at the bar and waited for Jenna, who spotted her, waved, and dealt with a few of her customers before moseying down Elizabeth’s end.

“What’s up, girl?”

“Just got back into town after a few days of traveling. How about you?”

Jenna held out her arms. “Another day in Riley paradise here. What can I get you to drink?”

“Hit me with something strong and mighty.”

“You talking a man or a drink?”

Elizabeth laughed. “I’ll start with the drink and work my way up from there.”

Jenna filled a glass with ice and whiskey, straight up. “Hard and mighty. It’s Gavin’s favorite.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, Mom told me you two had a falling out and you fired him. Care to elaborate?”

Elizabeth took a long swallow, her eyes watering as the whiskey burned its way down her throat and into her belly. “Whoa.”

Jenna laughed. “Lightweight. Don’t get into a drinking contest with me, ever.”

“Duly noted.”

“Okay, girlfriend. Spill. What did my dumb-ass brother do to fuck things up?”

“I’m not sure it was entirely his fault.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was. Go on.”

“I pushed him to get back to the game. It’s my job as his agent.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Anyway, your other brother stuck his nose in our business and accused me once again of manipulating Gavin. I told Gavin I loved him.”

“Wow. Big step,” Jenna said.

“Yes. But I wanted him to understand that I cared about him and wanted only what was best for him. I could see he was miserable.”

Jenna nodded. “We all could see that.”

“So he asked me if I told all my clients that in order to get what I wanted, then he asked me how many of my clients I slept with.”

Jenna’s eyes widened, and she pushed off the bar. “Get the fuck outta here. He did not say that.”

Elizabeth hoisted her glass and emptied it, then laid it back on the bar. “Afraid so.”

Jenna refilled the glass. “This one’s on me. What an utter fucking prick. I can’t believe he said that to you. What was he thinking?”

“I have no idea.” She took the shot in one swallow this time. Jenna refilled it again.

“I’m so sorry, Liz. I know Gavin can be a little dense and unfeeling at times, but that was just uncalled for. I know he cares about you. Where was his head at the time?”

She shrugged and took the shot again, feeling warm and buzzed. “Don’t know. Don’t care anymore. At that point I was stunned, pissed, and disappointed as hell. I told him it was obvious we weren’t seeing eye to eye on business or personal agendas anymore, so I fired him and walked out on him.”

“Good for you, sister.” Jenna refilled Elizabeth’s glass, then poured another. “I’ll have a shot with you this time.”

Elizabeth giggled. “Can you do that since you’re on duty?”

Jenna lifted the glass. “Honey, I can do anything I damn well please. I’m the owner. Or at least part owner. Cheers. And men suck.”

They clinked glasses and Elizabeth chugged the shot. Her face was getting numb, but she felt a hell of a lot better now. She knew coming here was a great idea. In no time at all she’d forget all about Gavin Riley.

GAVIN SAT IN HIS LIVING ROOM PLAYING XBOX, TRYING to get his mind off Elizabeth. Sometime soon she’d get home, and he’d stop stalking her condo.

Okay, maybe tonight he’d go back there and see if her car was there yet. He’d try around midnight. She couldn’t stay gone forever. Eventually she’d have to go home, and she’d have to face him.

And he’d have to face her.

His cell buzzed. He picked it up, saw Jenna was calling.

“Hey, baby sister, what’s up?”

“Hey, dickhead. I need you to come to the bar for a pickup.”

He frowned. “Pickup. What kind of pickup?”

“Your girlfriend—or should I say ex-girlfriend—Elizabeth, is ten sheets to the wind here, and it’s 100 percent your fault, asshole.”

His heart thudded against his chest. “Lizzie is there? Why?”

“Getting stinking drunk because you’re a prick. You coming or should I call for relief so I can take her home?”

“On my way. Don’t let her leave.”

Jenna laughed. “Not intending to.”

He launched out the door, grateful he’d had an early game today. It was only eleven, but still, he might not have been around to take Jenna’s call, and he didn’t want to miss the chance to talk to Elizabeth.

Fifteen minutes later he pushed through the door of Riley’s and headed straight to the bar, ignoring the shouts and waves from the patrons calling his name.

“Where is she?”

Jenna motioned with her head. “Holding court at the pool table.”

He started to turn but Jenna grasped his wrist.

“What?”

“You were a jerk.”

He nodded. “I know. I’m an asshole. I hurt her, bad. You can lecture me later, and I deserve every word. I’m going to fix this.”

Jenna nodded. “See that you do.”

Geez. Women and bonding. He was so screwed. As if his mother hadn’t already read him the riot act about what he’d done to Elizabeth. His own family was turning against him. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He did, in spades.

He headed over to the crowded pool table and stopped in his tracks at the sight of Elizabeth bent over the table with about eight sets of horny, eager eyes focused on her ass. She wore black Capri pants and a sleeveless stretchy top and little canvas shoes. Her hair was in a ponytail. She looked hot and sexy, and oh, God, no wonder they were looking at her ass—those pants cupped the globes perfectly. She did have such a great ass, especially when she bent over like that.

She couldn’t shoot pool for shit when she was drunk though. He winced when her cue scraped the cloth. She scratched—twice in a row. But he didn’t think the guys watching her gave a crap about her pool-shooting abilities. They were watching the woman, who laughed with them, flirted with them, and leaned against them, probably because she was having trouble standing.

What was her intent in getting drunk and hanging out with all these men?

It occurred to him he had no right to wonder, since he’d tossed her declaration of love in her face and basically called her a slut. He cringed again at the thought, as he had every day since he’d flung what she’d said out the window as if it had meant nothing. She’d told him she loved him—in front of his brother, who she knew had the capacity to hurt her, and in front of his father.

And he’d crushed her under his heel. He was a callous, no good son of a bitch, and he didn’t deserve her.

He was no better than dirt. He couldn’t blame her for never wanting to speak to him again. And he sure as hell couldn’t blame her for dropping him as a client.

Now it was time for him to man up and take whatever she flung his way.

He moved into the circle by the pool table.

“Excuse me, guys, time for me to take my woman home.”

They all backed away, whether it was because they knew him or whether they didn’t want to get in the middle of a guy and his girl, he didn’t know. Didn’t care.

Elizabeth lined up a shot, though he knew she had it lined up wrong. He got up behind her and pressed his body against hers. She giggled.

“I hope you don’t think you pressing your crotch against my ass to help me with this shot in any way means you’re coming home with me.”

She had no idea it was him. He hadn’t said a word. He slid his arm alongside hers, held her hand steady, lined up the shot, and hit the ball. It slid into the corner pocket—without scratching.

“Wheee!” she said, lifting and turning around with a wide grin.

Her smile died as soon as she saw him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Jenna called me. I’m your ride home.”

She shot a glare at the bar. Jenna waved.

“Traitor.”

He laid the pool cue on the table. “Come on, honey, I’ll take you home.”

She backed away from him. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m staying here with my guys. Right, guys?”

Gavin scanned the gazes of the men surrounding the table. None looked ready to jump to her defense. Smart dudes. The last thing they wanted was to get in the middle of what they probably thought was a domestic dispute.

“Party’s over, Elizabeth. Let’s go.” He reached for her hand, but she jerked it back.

“Leave me alone. You don’t love me. And I fired you.”

“Do we have to do this here?”

She nodded her head up and down like a goddamn bobblehead. “Yes. Yes we do. Right here. Right now.”

Not a good idea. She couldn’t even stand up by herself. She was weaving back and forth, and looked like she was going to drop to the floor any minute. In fact . . .

He caught her before she fell. “Okay, here we go.” He scooped her up in his arms. Jenna was right there with Elizabeth’s purse and a kiss to his cheek.

“Here you go. Good luck.”

She held the door for him.

“Thanks, sis.”

Elizabeth lifted her head and glared at him. “I don’t want you to take me home. You’re fired.”

“So you told me. I’m taking you home anyway. You can fire me again when we get there.”

“Okay.” Her head dropped to his shoulder, and she was blissfully quiet on the ride home. Only instead of taking her home, he took her to his house, where she’d have less of a chance of making an escape when he tried to talk to her.

She passed out on the ride home, didn’t wake up when he carried her into his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. He took off her shoes and covered her, and she didn’t move.

She was out. Totally and utterly out. Whatever he wanted to say to her was going to have to wait until tomorrow.

Shit.

He turned out the light and closed the door.

He went downstairs, picked up where he’d been on his Xbox game, and figured he was going to be up for a while tonight, figuring out what he was going to say in the morning.

ELIZABETH WOKE WITH A START AT THE SOUND OF A door closing, shot up in bed, and blinked her eyes open.

Ugh. Cotton mouth.

Whiskey.

This was all Jenna’s fault.

Not really, but always nicer to blame someone else for your own stupidity.

She needed coffee, stat. She forced her eyes open, and that’s when she realized she was not in her own bedroom.

Even worse, this was Gavin’s bedroom.

Double shit.

She vaguely remembered him showing up at Riley’s last night. Thank God Jenna had the presence of mind not to let her drive home. Not that she would have been foolish enough to do so, but drunks never had common sense.

She didn’t remember exchanging much in the way of verbiage with Gavin last night, so maybe they hadn’t gotten into it. She’d likely been too drunk to have any sort of intelligent conversation anyway.

Good. She had nothing to say to him anyway.

She glanced over at the clock on the nightstand.

Holy crap, ten a.m.

She really should give up alcohol. Or at least alcohol binges when you’re mad about a man.

Good thing she didn’t fall in love often. Or ever.

At least she never intended to fall in love again. The wear and tear on the body, heart, and soul was too great. She’d already invested enough years of her life in Gavin, and for what? To be called a whore?

She should have listened to her mother. Love hadn’t worked for her mother, and it sure as hell hadn’t worked for her. She was going to take up Tori’s lifestyle in the future. Career first, men were to be thought of only as recreation, and there was no such thing as love.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, checking her status.

A little shaky, slightly nauseated, and desperate for a cup of coffee. Other than that, she was okay. Now she had to get out of here.

She found her shoes and slipped them on, then opened the door.

She smelled coffee. Oh, God. She didn’t care if she was forced to have a civil five-minute conversation with Gavin. She was going to have a cup of coffee. She tiptoed downstairs, hoping he was asleep or, even better, gone.

As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she spotted Gavin leaning against the counter. He lifted his gaze from the newspaper to look at her. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt, and oh, God, he looked so good. His hair was messy, and she wanted to go up to him, put her arms around him, and mess his hair up a little more with her fingers. She wanted to kiss him and ask him why he couldn’t love her as much as she loved him.

This was why she was a cold-hearted bitch. Love just fucking hurt too much to risk the attempt. She’d tried. She’d failed. It sucked.

She walked into the room.

“You’re awake,” he said, laying the newspaper on the counter.

“Apparently.”

“Feel okay?”

“I’ll live.”

“Coffee?”

“Desperate for some.”

He grabbed a cup and poured, held it out for her.

“Thanks.”

He didn’t try to engage her in conversation while she drank down the sobering, life-affirming brew. For that she was grateful. She needed to consume an entire pot of it, but not here. Not with him.

She laid the cup down and fished in her purse for her phone. “I’ll just call a taxi to take me to my car.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No.”

He laid his hand over hers. “Elizabeth . . .”

She pulled her hand away. “Gavin, save it. I don’t want to hear whatever you have to say.”

“I’m not going to go away until you let me say it.”

She dialed the taxi company, gave them Gavin’s address, then hung up.

She blew out a breath and walked around him to the coffeepot, refilled her cup, then leaned against the counter. “Fine, then. Say it, so I can go home. They said fifteen minutes for the taxi.”