Block Shot (Hoops #2)(47)



“Gracias, Luciana,” Karen murmurs when a dark-haired young woman clears the delicious salads and fruit we had for lunch from the table. I noticed she speaks fluent Spanish with her staff, a point for her in my book.

“You have a lovely home, Karen,” I say, taking in the spectacular view of the Pacific from the terrace where we’re eating. I sip the spring water I’d requested. I don’t drink my calories when I don’t have to.

“Thank you.” She touches the beautifully casual stones at her throat. “Should we leave the men to talk business and I could show you more? The west terrace offers the best view of the ocean.”

“I’m afraid she needs to stay for the business,” Jared says before I have to explain. “She’s an agent like I am, Karen. Sorry. I thought I mentioned that.”

“Oh.” Surprise registers on Karen’s still-pretty face. “I thought you two were . . . you know. Together.”

“Oh, no.” I laugh lightly. “Just business. I’m not his type.”

“Well if Jared doesn’t like smart, beautiful women,” Karen replies, offering me a wink, “then he doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m missing,” Jared says, taking a sip of Perrier and studying me over the rim of his glass. “I miss it more every day.”

Kip and Karen chuckle into the pool of awkward silence rippling around us, but neither Jared or I laugh. We don’t smile. We stare at each other, assessing, plotting our next move. Mine is to withdraw. By the determined set of Jared’s lips and the hard gleam in his eyes, I’m afraid his next move will be to charge. I’m just not sure when.

“This looks good,” Kip says, considering the proposal once Karen has excused herself. He may have greeted Jared like a son, but he grilled him like a stranger. He’s a shrewd businessman, and Jared’s assertion that the deal was “all but done” may have overstated the matter. Kip might have intended to sponsor the tournament from the beginning, but he made me believe he needed to be convinced. And if there’s one thing I learned from Professor Albright’s debate class, it’s how to persuade, so I add my input every chance I get.

“This will be great,” Kip says, flipping to the last page of the proposal. “The homeless situation in San Diego and in LA is abominable.”

“My client, Kenan, and Jared’s client, August . . . we have the same concerns,” I say. “We couldn’t stay on the sidelines, so to speak.”

“I’m hoping you have some friends who will be as concerned as you are, Kip.” Jared’s expression is expectant and assured.

“I do, of course,” Kip replies, smiling. “Could the two of you make it up to the house in Santa Barbara next weekend? We’re having a little barbecue, and many of my concerned friends will be there, wallets open.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I reply, returning Kip’s warm smile.

“This one’s sharp,” he tells Jared, his eyes resting on my face with what appears to be respect. “Since you’re not smart enough to snap her up, maybe Bent would be.”

“Matchmaking again, Dad?”

The deep voice comes from behind me, but I know it right away, though I haven’t heard it in almost a decade. I look around to find Bent Carter at the entryway to the terrace. He was always the flipside of Jared’s coin. Lighthearted while Jared was intense. Dark where Jared was fair. Entitled when Jared was ambitious. But that awful night, I saw no difference between the two of them. They were the same as Prescott and his pride of hyenas laughing at all my chubby, naked, and exposed flesh. Fresh humiliation chokes me with the visual reminder of Bent standing there, an all-too-familiar smile on his face. The smile dies when his eyes meet mine.

“Banner.” He sobers, his surprise fading. “Mom said Jared had a woman with him, and I just had to see for myself.”

“You make it sound like I don’t like girls,” Jared says easily, dividing a careful glance between his friend and me. “Not the case since apparently I have a type.”

His words draw my attention and irritation, as he knew they would. If he’s trying to distract me from the memory of what he and those assholes did—Bent included—it won’t work. I endure Bent’s presence while he greets his father and then mother when she returns to the terrace. My body is stiff as if tensed for a blow the whole time. My teeth grind together. It’s bad enough Jared is still friends with this cretin, and only convinces me further that he lied when he said he didn’t join The Pride after all. My nerves are drawn tight like the strings of a violin, but there is no music. Just the sound of their laughter from that night. The sound of my tears. The sound of Jared’s lies.

“I’m so sorry, but I really do need to get back,” I interrupt as soon as there’s a natural opening. I turn a genuinely grateful smile on Karen. I can’t blame her for her son’s despicable behavior. “It was so nice meeting you, and thank you for lunch.”

I stand and toss the linen napkin from my lap over the remnants of my salad.

“Please come again soon, Banner.” Karen loops her elbow through mine.

“I’d like that very much.”

Jared studies us over his shoulder from up ahead before returning to the conversation with Kip and Bent. Karen kisses both my cheeks with promises of more time together at the barbecue next weekend. Quick, long strides take Jared across the vast yard to the waiting helicopter. I’m close behind when a gentle tug stops me halfway there. I look up from the long fingers gripping my elbow to Bent’s handsome face. He bends to speak in my ear over the noise of the helicopter.

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