Me: I’ll take care of it.

  Rhett: Good. Not to sound like a daddy, but I dropped sixteen million on your ass. Don’t need syphilis rattling your brain.

  I was so glad we weren’t having this conversation face-to-face.

  Me: Copy that and agreed.

  Rhett: Focus on breaking this losing streak instead of pussy.

  Dammit. Nothing mattered more to me than winning and taking advantage of the five years of freedom I’d been granted, and it pissed me off that my boss thought differently.

  Me: Absolutely. We’ll get back on track.

  I stared at my screen, waiting for his reply. When nothing came, I shoved my phone deep in my pocket, daring the damn thing to vibrate again. I started jogging, which was why I was out on the sidewalk to begin with, needing to loosen up my muscles after last night’s sex-a-thon. “See, Rhett,” I mumbled to myself as I picked up speed, “I’m focused.”

  So far this season, we’d played one hundred and forty games. Up until two weeks ago, we’d won a shit ton of them. Then we hit a slump, and dammit, we were still slumped. Bad. We’d lost eleven straight games. If we didn’t pull our shit together, we wouldn’t even make it as a wildcard, let alone a contender to the playoffs.

  My phone vibrated again. Dammit. What now?

  I considered ignoring it but wasn’t a “put off until later what you can do now” kind of guy.

  Stopping, I moved out of the way and into the mouth of an alley. Dreading looking at the screen, I scowled at the unknown number but tapped the glass to pull up the text.

  Unknown: Last night was the bomb. Ready for round two? I’m free tonight☺

  Oh hell no. It was Chelsie.

  Me: Did you see front page of Behind the Scenes?

  Chelsie: Yes!!! ☺ It’s on all the major websites now. My agent is thrilled. Already booked two new gigs!!

  I stared at my phone. Un-freakin-believable. And how did she get this number?

  Me: Congratulations?

  Was there an emoji for sarcasm? I wasn’t sure.

  Chelsie: Thanks! <3 What about tonight?

  Me: No but good luck with your life.

  With some quick actions of my thumbs, I blocked her number and powered off my phone before I threw the damn thing against the wall.

  Jamming it back into my pocket, I turned and ran straight into someone, reaching out to steady them — her — after nearly knocking her down.

  “Oops,” she said, the bright smile not leaving her face as her blue eyes met mine.

  Damn. It was like staring into the sky on a sunny day.

  She blushed, and the freckles on her nose seemed to grow darker. But before I could say a word, she darted around me and continued down the alley.

  Where was she going?

  “Hi, Joseph,” I heard her say but didn’t see anyone in the dim light. A dog jumped out from behind a dumpster, its tail wagging in delight. She squatted down and reached into one of the large canvas bags she carried, patting the dog on its head. “Hi, Target. Have you been a good boy? Ready for some breakfast?”

  Stepping back so she wouldn’t see me hovering like some psycho stalker, I looked around the corner to see her feeding the dog. The thin creature gobbled it down in only a few swallows, then looked up at her, his face filled with expectation of more.

  “Time for your flea medicine,” she said and pulled a little tube out of her bag. Within seconds, she’d dosed the happy dog. Soon, he was chewing on a bone while she ran her hands down his spine. She lifted all four paws, checking the pads. “You look so much better, don’t you, boy?” I smiled at the dog’s response to her baby talk.

  She stood and pulled out a brown paper bag. “Ham and cheese today, Joseph. Hope that’s okay.” She pulled out a box of antibacterial wipes and opened the lid. A man stepped from behind the dumpster and took several, wiping off his face and hands.

  “Thank you, Eliana. I’m sure it will be as good as always.”

  “Here are your vitamins.” She dropped several pills in the man’s hand then gave him a bottle of water, waiting until he washed them down. He guzzled the water, emptying the bottle. She took it from him and handed him another. Watching him drink so thirstily made me feel like shit. I wrote huge checks to various charities but had never reached out beyond the Beasts sponsored events Katrina forced us too. I’d have to change that.

  She leaned forward and kissed the old man on his cheek. “Need anything special tomorrow?”

  The man was already biting into an apple. “No, no. You already do too much.”

  “Be sure to eat all of it. Target has already eaten, so you keep the rest for you.”

  The old man laughed. “I will. Thanks again.”

  She patted Target on the head one last time before turning my way. I jumped back and stepped into the doorway of a store, pulling my cap down lower on my forehead.

  Peeking out, I watched her cute ass practically skipping down the sidewalk, the ponytail containing a mass of hair that wasn’t quite red or blonde or brown swinging side to side. Was she always this happy? Did her skin always glow?

  Wearing dark skinny jeans and slip-on canvas sneakers, she’d topped the casual look with some filmy peasant-looking top that kept sliding off one shoulder, giving me a glimpse of freckled skin.

  Damn, I wanted to play connect the dots with my tongue.

  Everywhere she went, she stood out among the rushed urgency of businessmen and women talking on their phones or tapping at screens, as if some ray of sun followed her every movement.

  At the next alley, I witnessed the same interaction, except the dog was a hound named Daisy and the homeless man called Lou. She fed them both, poked and prodded the animal before dosing her with flea meds and playing a game of fetch with the long-legged, floppy-eared animal.

  Fascinated now, I followed her to two more alleys. More food. More flea meds, the dogs always overjoyed at her visit. She handed additional bags of food to those without animals, addressing each of them by their names, but she only spent real time with the dogs.

  Feeling decidedly like a stalker now, I waited until she exited the last alley before deciding to approach her, because there was no question… I had to approach her. But even as I picked up my pace, her steps began to slow, her shoulders sagging just a little.

  Wondering about her sudden change in mood, I hung back, wanting to see what she would do next. What she did was drop her now empty canvas bags to the ground and turn to face a store window with a heavy sigh I could hear from where I stood.

  Pulling my cap lower, I grabbed a newspaper — a real one, not the gossip shit — and sat down on a nearby bench. She had stopped outside a plush eatery. Not quite a diner but not quite an upscale restaurant either, I hadn’t eaten there before. She — Eliana, the homeless guy called her — squatted down and began rolling up the canvas bags, tucking them into a large Prada hobo. With two sisters, I knew everything Prada.

  Standing again, she pulled the band from her ponytail, her unique colored hair falling around her shoulders in waves. She ran her fingers through it several times before twisting it into some high knot on top of her head, securing it with pins she pulled from her Mary Poppins bag. She smeared on lipstick, a much darker shade than she’d been wearing, and stuck some dangling earrings in her ears, then a few strands of beads around her neck.

  Was she getting ready for a date?

  If so, it wasn’t a happy relationship based on her body language.

  Next, she kicked her sneakers off and stuck her feet into Jimmy Choo wedges. The never-ending bag revealed a two-toned jacket that only came to her waist, not covering the glorious ass I’d been admiring the past half hour. When she was finished, she stood there, staring at her reflection. She pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. I could imagine that she was giving herself a mental pep talk.

  What was she dreading so much?

  I didn’t know what she was doing or why, but my fascination with the amazing woman only grew with her sidewalk transformation.

  And when she gathered her things and walked into the restaurant, I waited only a few minutes before following.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Eliana

  It was such a beautiful morning, the sun shining and warm. I relished the heat even as I looked forward to fall and the changing season. I dreaded winter, not because I hated the cold, but because it was so hard on my babies — the dogs I took care of in my little corner of the world.

  Well, their owners too, of course, but it was the animals I held most dear. Dogs didn’t judge. They didn’t criticize. Only loved. And their devotion to their masters, especially those masters with so little to give back, touched my heart, nearly bringing me to tears every day.

  I felt wonderful as I made my rounds, so very pleased with how well my babies were doing. Target was finally gaining some weight back after I paid to have him seen by the local animal clinic for worms. I planned to be a vet one day, but it didn’t take a license or degree to care. And the homeless were just grateful that someone gave a damn.

  Because few did. For the owners or their pets.

  After feeding Trixie and Chuck in the last alley, I felt my happiness dimming with every step I took. I’d been dreading this meeting all week.

  I was early, so I had plenty of time to change into something… presentable. Why was I kidding myself? Even if I was decked out in head to toe Prada, I would still receive the same criticisms. Always.

  Giving myself a final glimpse at my reflection, I stood as tall as I could and plastered a smile on my face, mentally rolling myself in emotional bubble wrap.

  Inside, the hostess greeted me with her usual warmth. “Hi, Eliana. Your booth is ready, and I’ve already poured your tea, extra sweet.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink.

  “Thanks, Helen. I need the extra kick today, that’s for sure.”

  Helen rolled her eyes. “I read about it. Divorce number four?”

  I exhaled a long breath. “Five.”

  She gave me a quick hug. “Well, if you need anything, just give me the signal.”

  I hugged her back, tears pricking my eyes at the older woman’s kindness. “I’ll do that.”

  Taking a seat, I enjoyed a long drink of the strong tea. It made me think of my grandmother, who died nearly eight years ago in a terrible fire that also killed my grandfather. Before that horrid night, I’d spent my summers on my grandparents’ farm in Tennessee. I missed it. Her. Him. All of it. The farm was the only place in the world where I could be myself. It was where I’d found a love for animals and my granddad, a veterinarian, taught me how to care for them until I could become a veterinarian myself.

  To the horror of my mother.

  “Darling…”

  Here we go.

  I stood, and air-kissed both cheeks of the woman who gave birth to me, neither of us touching each other.

  “Alize,” I said because she didn’t like being called anything faintly maternal, “you look beautiful this morning.”

  Flattery was expected.

  She waved a manicured hand in the air, and I forced myself not to cringe as she laughed too loud, causing all eyes to turn to her. “This old thing…?” She laughed again, and to my great embarrassment, twirled, the flirty skirt almost showing her Pilates-sculpted ass. “It is fabulous, isn’t it? I found this adorable new designer who I just know we’ll see at fashion week in a few years.” She put her hand to her mouth and fake-whispered, “If I have any say in it, and you know I will.”

  I stifled the urge to gag and smiled brightly, hoping my face wasn’t too flushed. As a dark strawberry blonde, my pale skin gave me away constantly. “Shall we sit?” I suggested, not liking being the center of attention. That’s why I always suggested brunch for our tête-à-têtes, as Alize called them. It normally wasn’t as busy as the other meal times.

  With considerable grace, Alize slid into the booth and smiled graciously at the lead waiter who immediately handed us our menus.

  “Today’s my cheat day,” she sang as she reviewed the selections. “I’ll take the house salad with just a dash of oil and vinegar and…” she winked at me in an I’m going to be sooo bad way, “cheese.”

  The waiter waited for more, and I nearly laughed at his is that seriously all? expression that he was barely able to hide before she noticed. Oblivious, she folded the menu and slid it his way. He lifted a brow. “Anything else, ma’am?”

  Her blue eyes turned glacial for a moment at the ma’am. She recovered quickly, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “No, no. I’ll be stuffed after that.”

  It took all of my self-control not to roll my eyes to the heavens.

  “I’ll have your Portobello burger with sweet potato fries and—”

  “Eliana Katherine, you’ll do no such thing. For heaven’s sake, you have a dress to fit into for the gala and…” Her eyes moved down to examine the parts of me she could see above the table. She looked back up to the waiter. “She’ll have the same as me. No cheese.”

  “Mom!”

  I would go to hell for the satisfaction I received at her look of mortification. Her face a tighter mask than usual, she dismissed the waiter with a flick of her hand.

  I’ll pay for that one.

  Within seconds, she’d pulled herself back together. “You must take care of yourself, Eliana. The years will pass by you like a wink, and you’ll wonder where the wrinkles came from.”

  She touched the corner of her eye, a place where no wrinkle dared dwell, and I knew she expected me to comment on how young she looked. I didn’t, and her nostrils delicately flared.

  “Shall I have my car pick you up or can you find your own way to the gala?”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m not going.”

  She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in an overly dramatic soap opera movement. “You must. You—”

  “You won’t even miss me, Alize. You’ll be on the prowl for husband number six, no doubt. I’d just get in the way.”

  Someone laughed, a deep chuckle that broke off quickly, and I glanced in the direction the sound came from and only saw two men sitting at the nearby bar. One an older gentleman with a glorious mane of white hair. The other a… wow.

  He was sitting with his back to us, but what a back it was. A tight athletic shirt barely concealed bulging muscles, a vee of a sweat stain trailed to a point at his spine. He also wore athletic shorts and running shoes, his calves bulging over his short-cut socks. A baseball cap sat on the stool beside him.

  Running my eyes back up his body, taking in the muscles of his triceps this time, I wondered how it would feel to run my hands through his thick head of dark hair.

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  I whipped my head back in my mother’s direction and met her icy gaze. “Yes.”

  She brightened, showing me the pearly whiteness of her teeth in one of her supermodel smiles. “Terrific. I knew you’d come to your senses. I’ll call Carlos right now and set up an appointment for you.”

  I stared at her. I’d clearly said yes to the wrong thing. “What?”

  But she was busy tapping buttons on her phone, ignoring me completely.

  “Carlos, darling, it’s Alize Montgomery, and I need a favor. Could you work a very special friend in before the gala? Her color is dreadful, so maybe a bit lighter so she won’t look so washed out. And schedule her for a facial. Her skin looks bone dry. And her brows…” She clicked her tongue. “Yes, yes. Mani, pedi. The works. Can’t have my little baby’s picture in the society pages with ragged cuticles, now can we?” She glanced at me. “When was the last time you waxed?”

  My mouth fell open.

  “Schedule her for a full wax. Yes, Brazilian, of course.” She batted her eyes at me. “Winston will be there, so you need to be prepared.”

  I waved my hands in front of her face, mouthing no, no, no. It seemed everyone was looking at me but her. I gave up. I just wouldn’t go. I wouldn’t show up at these appointments, and I wouldn’t be going to the gala. My stomach churned. Especially if he was there.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, examining every inch of my face while she listened to something Carlos was saying. She covered the mouthpiece of her phone. “How old are you, darling?”

  I wasn’t even surprised that she didn’t remember. “I’ll be twenty-two in December.”

  She frowned. Well, as frowny as multiple injections will allow. “Are you sure?”

  “I can show you my driver’s license if you wish.”

  Her eyes widened, but her eyebrows didn’t even move a millimeter. “When did you begin driving?”

  I didn’t even answer, just took another drink of my sweet tea.

  “Carlos, my love, she’s nearly twenty-two now. I agree. Botox can’t be started too early these days. She does seem to be sagging around the eyes. She doesn’t have my genes, you know. Takes her hair and complexion from her father, God rest his soul…”

  Breathe in love.

  Breathe out hate.

  I repeated the mantra in my head, tuning out my mother’s voice as she continued to toss tiny needles of hurt in my direction.

  Alize Renee Jones Anderson Wright Morris Adams Montgomery was a former supermodel, soap opera star, and B-movie starlet, with hopes and dreams of someday being the next Julia Roberts, before she got knocked up by my sixty-two-year-old father when she was only nineteen. My birth apparently ruined her life.

  Of course, ruined was a relative term. If ruined meant marrying a multimillionaire who conveniently died of a heart attack a year later, leaving his young widow the bulk of his entire estate, then yeah, I ruined her life.

  “Would you like your lips plumped, darling?”

  “No!”

  She pursed her overly plumped lips together. “We’ll pass on that for now, Carlos darling. Let’s focus on making her not look so dull. Is there anything you can do about freckles?”

  I sighed and leaned back in my seat, wishing my salad would come so I’d have something to pick at. From the corner of my eye, the hottie guy shifted in his seat.