Calling All the Shots. Katherine Garbera

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Calling All the Shots - Katherine Garbera Mills & Boon Desire

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“Plus every time I step outside someone wants an autograph or to talk about my latest exploits … and I’m not complaining. I know without those people I’d be just another washed-up ball player. Still, as I said, some days it’s harder than others.”

      She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “I know. That’s why so many people in our business are so messed up. I bet you never thought you’d have these types of problems.”

      “Definitely not. I figured I’d play football until I was thirty and then retire with my trophy wife to a large ranch in Texas Hill Country, teaching my boys how to play,” he said with a sardonic laugh. “This definitely wasn’t part of my plans.”

      “Trophy wife? Why are you trying to date me then?” she asked, crossing her arms under her breasts and giving him the same hard look she gave the cameramen when they didn’t get a shot she wanted.

      “I said that was my original idea of what my life would be. Things changed—I’m over thirty now,” he said. Willow sort of did fit his idea of a trophy wife, though—she was sexy as hell, successful in her own right and she knew how to make things happen.

      “Yes, you are, old man.”

      He liked it when she teased him. It was as if she forgot who he was outside of this apartment and she let herself relax.

      “I’m not that ancient.”

      “Nope, but you’ll always be older than me,” she said with a smile. Her phone twittered in her pocket and she gave him a wry smile. “I’ve got to check that. It keeps going off, which makes me think it might be urgent.”

      “Go ahead,” he said. “Would you like coffee or maybe an after dinner drink?”

      “Coffee would be great,” she said.

      “You can go into the living room,” he said. “I’ll bring it in.”

      She nodded distractedly as she pulled her phone from her pocket and read the message she’d received. He noticed that she chewed on her lower lip and her brow furrowed as she read.

      He watched as she settled herself on the overstuffed leather sofa he’d ordered from Italy last year before turning to make them both a cup of coffee. He carried the cups over and placed them on the coffee table, then sat down next to her on the couch. She was still tapping out a message on her phone.

      The scent of her perfume was light and floral and reminded him of spring. He stretched his arm along the back of the couch and felt the cool fall of her straight hair against his hand. He wanted to reach out and touch it, to bury his fingers in her hair, but he didn’t want to distract her. He liked being able to sit here and just watch her.

      She sighed and then put her phone on the table. “Deidre is getting cold feet. She doesn’t think that Peter is right for her and has asked for another match,” Willow said.

      “Can she do that?” he asked.

      “I guess so. I’ve sent Mona a message to see what she can do,” Willow said.

      Mona was the matchmaker at Matchmakers, Inc. who was providing all the couples at the show. Jack was surprised that this couple was having such a hard time since Mona’s instincts had been right for the other three couples that had gone before them.

      Deidre Adamson was a very popular advice columnist and television talk show host who rose to fame by turning her brutal honesty on the people who came on her show. Jack liked that kind of straight shooting. She’d been matched with the famous Peter Mullen. He was wild and a bit outrageous.

      “Peter must have done something that shook her,” Jack said. “I’ve been chatting with him a bit on the set. Do you want me to see if I can step in and fix this?”

      Willow just stared at him for a minute. This was her headache and she was used to fixing problems on her own. “How could you help?”

      “I actually know Deidre,” he said. “And I’ve had a couple of chats with Peter. My guess is that Peter said or did something that scared her.”

      “Like what?” Willow asked. She was a little embarrassed to admit that she didn’t think that Jack was sensitive enough to notice anyone else, much less be aware that they had nuances.

      “Well, Deidre talks tough on her show but in real life she’s very sensitive. I’m betting Peter thinks she’s tougher than she is and probably pushed her too fast.”

      “You think?” Willow asked. “Deidre seems very much in control and bossy to me. I was guessing she told Peter to do something and he didn’t do it.”

      “Might be. They both like to be in charge,” Jack said. “If she gets a new man, would we have to start all over again with them?”

      “Yes. It would mean three weeks of wasted filming,” Willow said. “Do you know Deidre well enough to call her up and chat with her?”

      “Yes, I do.”

      “How do you know her? She doesn’t move in the Hollywood circles you do,” Willow said.

      “She was my therapist after my accident. She was the one who helped steer me toward broadcasting.”

      Willow hadn’t thought about how he’d transitioned to his current career. She’d just thought … well, that he was the golden boy so things worked out for him. She’d been a little jealous of how easy his life looked from her point of view but she was getting glimpses of him that made her realize Jack’s life wasn’t as effortless as it seemed.

      “I’d love it if you would call and talk to her. Can you do it now? I’ll text Mona and tell her to wait before she talks to Deidre.”

      “Yes, I can do it, but only if you promise you’ll do me a favor in return,” he said.

      “Okay,” she said.

      “Don’t you want to know what I want?”

      “Nope. I need her to stay matched to Peter so I don’t have to throw out three weeks worth of work.”

      Jack lifted one eyebrow at her. “Whatever I ask for you’ll do?”

      She would probably regret this. “Yes, a favor of your choosing.”

      “Good. Drink your coffee while I save the day,” he said before going upstairs.

      She stood up and walked around his apartment. She was surprised that his walls weren’t lined with photos of himself and celebrities. He gave the impression that he’d have lots of those but there weren’t any on display. Instead there was a painting by the celebrated Texan Charles Beckendorf. The craggy valleys of the Texas canyons provided a backdrop for a longhorn steer that stared out at the viewer.

      She had one of his paintings hanging in her brownstone in Brooklyn. As soon as she’d started making real money she had decided to invest in art and had begun by supporting artists from her home state. She had also endowed a scholarship for girls from her high school.

      She moved past the painting, feeling a little homesick for Texas after viewing it. Next was a picture she recognized from their high school yearbook. It was their state champion

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