Deep End: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (32 page)

“How do you know it’s a favor I need?” said Colton, growing a little upset. But it was OK. He knew John didn’t mean anything by it. They were such old
friends,
they could say practically anything to each other. They were also such old friends that they knew how the other one worked perfectly. John and his family had happily given Colton everything he had now: they’d given him the future in the rodeo that his parents had been unable to provide him. John’s parents had kept driving Colton to practice even after John had abandoned the sport entirely and left for college in New York.

“I just know, Colton, buddy,” said John, laughing into the phone. “It’s no big deal. Just spit it out already. I don’t have much time. I still have some chores to do…take out the trash, do the dishes...”

“She’s really got you working then, your wife, right?” said Colton, chuckling a little to
himself
.

“
Ain’t
that right,” said John. “But listen I’m not complaining. She’s a great woman.”

“She is,” said Colton. “Fine, I’ll get on with it then. I had to fire my manager. There’s no point in going into the story much. But I need someone new. I need someone really good.”

“Aren’t there a lot of guys that specialize in managing rodeo stars?” said John. “I’m sure you’ll have no problems finding one if you’re number one in the whole country.”

“It’s not that…it’s that these guys are really good at doing a certain thing…they know about the rodeo. But they don’t know about anything else…they don’t know about making someone a regular celebrity, you know?
Someone with popular appeal.
My guy had me working events at strip clubs…”

“Wow, sounds terrible,” said John, sarcastically. “All those naked chicks around…completely terrible, man.”

“But really, it’s a real problem. I’m not going to be able to stay on the bull forever, so to speak. And I don’t really have any other skills.”

“What about motorcycles?”

“At this point, I have more of a fan boy knowledge. I don’t know enough to actually work for anyone. And if I was a bigger star with bigger mass appeal, I’d be able to work doing promotion or something…it’s just that I’ve seen too many guys who were once great wind up in awful positions…I can’t take this life forever, John. I’ve got to find some stability, and this is the only way I know how to do it.”

“I hear you, man. And yeah, I know of some of the guys you’re talking about. Having watched the sport for years, it’s hard not to take note of the old guys you used to admire…they’re just no where to be seen now, and probably living without much more than social security checks to support themselves.”

“Exactly,” said Colton. “So I need someone who understands…well, who understands the wider world
better.
Maybe some kind of media expert.
I don’t know exactly who I’m looking for.”

“Look, Colton, I have just the guy for you.”

“Shit, yeah? This is why I called you, John. You always have the weirdest and most unexpected connections.”

“Well, being a lawyer for celebrities will do that to you. Listen, this guy is the absolute best. And he’s always looking for new projects. A rodeo star like you would be perfect for him. He’ll make you a household name within the next few months, I can practically promise you that.”

“Wow,” said Colton, unable to think of anything to say. This was exactly what he’d been looking for.

“Now, I have to warn you. This guy is…a little unconventional. He’s a little weird.
Perhaps a little eccentric in his methods.
But there’s no arguing with the fact that the guy gets results. He’s worked with practically a quarter of the newest movie starts.”

“He sounds absolutely perfect. What’s his name?”

“His name? Cambridge Whitecliff.”

I woke up with the morning light coming in through the blinds.

Where was he? That was the first thing I thought.

I thought we had shared something special…I thought there had been a real connection

I immediately felt like a fool, an idiot. Was I really just another woman for this rodeo champion? He had a new woman every night. There had been one when I had come into the room with him. What had made me think I was so special? Why had I fooled myself into thinking there was some connection between us?

This was typical me…I was always thinking there was something special when there wasn’t. I had done this all through my life…only recently, in the last few years, I had resigned myself to the fact that there was something wrong with me that made me undesirable as a real partner for a man…that’s why I just slept with guy after guy at the weddings to amuse myself, to pump up my self esteem a little bit…but it wasn’t nearly enough.

Looking at myself in the hotel bathroom mirror that morning, I had rarely felt worse about myself.

I gathered my clothes together and dressed myself as quickly as I could.

It seemed as it Colton had taken everything with him already. Had he left in the middle of the night?

I had one last moment of hope. There was a piece of paper sitting under the remote control on the desk…it looked as if it might be a note. Maybe he had needed to leave for an emergency, and then left me a note with his phone number…and a message saying he had had a wonderful time and that he would be anxiously awaiting my phone call.

I went to grab it…eagerly.

But it was nothing.

It was just a scrap of paper….

But
wait,
there was another side to it.

I flipped it over, hoping against all hope.

I wanted my wish to be true. I wanted it to be a note from Colton more than anything I had ever wanted.

It was a note all right.

But it was a note from the girl who had been here the night before…or for all I knew another girl entirely.

“Colton, I hope you call me. I had a wonderful time,” read the note.

“Damnit,” I said to myself, angrily.

I couldn’t believe it.

How had I fooled myself with another ridiculous false hope?

I slunk out of the backdoor to the hotel.

I spent a few minutes in the parking lot, looking for my car.
Or a sign of Colton’s truck.
But neither was to be seen.

“Shit,” I said, remembering that I had gotten a ride here with Colton, and that my car was likely still at the strip club in the parking lot.

That was just great, I thought.

My car had a huge advertisement on both sides. The advertisement had my face and name, saying “Expert Wedding Planner” with my phone number and professional email address.

Now anyone driving by would be able to clearly see my car in front of a strip club that had a neon picture of a topless girl incorporated into its gigantic billboard sign. That wasn’t going to be good for my business, no matter how you looked at it. I had an image to maintain, and strip clubs weren’t part of it.

I didn’t want to go back to the hotel to call taxi. I didn’t want to face the people at the front desk…I had never stayed in this hotel, and it was nice to have one or two hotels in town that didn’t know my face as the woman who had stayed overnight with a man, without luggage, and without a reservation, without even a toothbrush.

I decided to walk. I set off down the highway. There wasn’t even a sidewalk.

As I walked along, the cars whizzed by me as if I wasn’t there. More than a couple times, I had to jump out of the way, since they seemed to have no problem with driving right in the shoulder where I was walking.

The sky was grey. It seemed like it had been grey forever.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket. I took the thing out. I was so
frustrated,
I was ready to throw it away forever…what was the point of answering the phone if it wasn’t Colton? And he didn’t even have my number. And I was sure he didn’t want to call me…how stupid I was! I cursed myself again for falling for a man who clearly didn’t want anything more from me than my body.

I took the phone and cocked my arm, ready to throw it onto the highway where it would be smashed to bits by the next car.

Who else could it be? The only other option was Sara’s lawyer, with no doubt more bad news.

That reminded me, I needed to hire my own lawyer.

The thought of hiring a lawyer to countersue or defend myself against my long-time best friend…it felt like it ripped another hole in my heart…

I wasn’t in good shape when I looked at the caller ID screen.

It was my Mom.

My Mom…I hadn’t talked to her in years and years…not since I had started my own business.

I picked up the phone.

“Katy?” said my Mom.

We had certainly had our fair share of arguments…bitter arguments that had never come to an end…but still it was good to hear her voice.

“It’s me, Mom,” I said, my voice quavering a little.

“It’s so good to hear your voice, Katy,” said my Mom. It sounded like she was crying. Her voice was trembling, and she was making small sobbing sounds. I knew something had happened. She wouldn’t have called me unless something very serious had happened. She wasn’t the type of person to call just to chat, especially considering that we hadn’t talked in so long.

“Katy, it’s your father. I’m sorry…he passed away this morning.”

Colton parked his truck in the parking lot. He had ridden his motorcycle for a few hours the night before in the darkness before turning to the hotel parking lot and putting it back on his truck.

He had visited the hotel room where Katy slept once…to look at her beautiful sleeping body…her face…he knew that she meant something to him. But he wasn’t sure what. It had been so long since he had felt this way about a woman…and he wasn’t actually sure he had ever experienced these types of feeling before.

But he was scarred…he would barely admit the fear to himself. But he was shaking when he left the key card on the desk and slunk out the door, quietly so as not to wake her up.

He locked the door to his pickup and went into the restaurant.

“I’m meeting a Mr. Whitecliff for lunch,” he said to the first waiter he could find. The waiter was wearing a full suit and tie.

It was a very fancy restaurant.

Looking around, Colton noticed that he was completely underdressed. This was one of the
fanciest
restaurants in downtown Houston, where the elite dined.

The waiter made a slightly sour face on seeing Colton’s jeans and button down shirt, his messy hair, his tattoos, and his multi-day beard growth.

But he was the consummate professional, and merely said, “Follow me.
This way, sir.
Mr. Whitecliff has been expecting you.”

When he got the table, Mr. Whitecliff was sitting there waiting, fiddling with a gold watch.

He stood up immediately.

“Colton, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Whitecliff. Thanks so much for flying into meet me. It really means a lot.”

“Please, call me Cambridge. Well, your friend spoke very highly of you. And you seem like just the sort of client that I’ve been looking for quite a while. I believe that we could both have a great and mutually beneficial partnership ahead of us. We can earn a lot of money.”

“Sounds great, Cambridge,” said Colton, taking a seat.

“Can I get you gentleman something to drink?” said the waiter, making a little obsequious gesture with his hands, and scrunching his small mealy mouth into something resembling a smile.

“A mescal for me,” said Cambridge.

“A beer for me, whatever you have,” said Colton.

“We only carry imported beers, sir,” said the waiter.

“Whatever,” said
Colton.
“That’ll be fine.”

“As you wish sir,” said the waiter, turning to leave.

“Well, Colton, let’s get right down to business, shall we?”

“Sure.”

“I believe you know something of my reputation? I have worked with some clients who are now very famous. I have unique methods. They may seem strange at first, but you must trust that I know what I’m doing. I always get the result I’m looking for. All that I ask is that you do everything I say, without question.”

“Everything you say?” said Colton. He didn’t much like the sound of that. He liked to do his own thing, go his own way. It had often gotten him into a lot of trouble. Well, he thought, maybe it was now time to change his ways. If he really wanted to advance his career, and get what he wanted, maybe he should finally listen to someone and do what someone else told him. And who better to listen to than this Cambridge Whitehead? He sure seemed like he knew what he was doing. Anyway, after Colton got a little bit more fame, he’d be able to do exactly what he wanted.

“Anything I say,” said Cambridge.

“What the hell,” said Colton. “Sure, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Great,” said Cambridge. “I’ll just need you to sign a contract I have here. It’s a standard contract I give to all my clients. You can take your time going over…if you like you can even take it to a lawyer to have them check over it for you.”

“It’s fine,” said Colton. “I’m sure it’s fine. Where do I sign?”

“Right here,” said Cambridge, giving Colton a smile, and giving him a pen.

Colton signed on the dotted line.

I couldn’t believe it. My father was dead.

“How did it happen?” I said.

It was strange talking on the phone to my Mother after so many years. But she didn’t miss a beat. It was just like we hadn’t missed a conversation. She didn’t hesitate or pause before criticizing me, as she had always done all my life…that was probably why I was so screwed up, why I had so much trouble finding a suitable lover.