Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(58)

She knew by their expectant expressions that they wanted her to explain why she’d shown up with Heath, but she wasn’t volunteering any more than she already had. She toyed with the yellow band of her Swatch daisy watch. “All of you know how much Perfect for You means to me. If I don’t make a success of this, it’ll basically prove my mother’s right about everything. And I really don’t want to be an accountant.”

“Kate puts too much pressure on you,” Sharon said, not for the first time.

Annabelle shot her a grateful smile. “Thanks to Molly, I had an interview with Heath. But the thing is, I needed to engage in a small act of subterfuge to get his name on my contract.”

“What kind of subterfuge?” Janine asked.

She took a deep breath and told them how she’d fixed him up with Gwen.

Molly gasped. “He’s going to kill you. I mean it, Annabelle. When he finds out you deceived him—and he will find out—he’ll go ballistic.”

“He boxed me into a corner.” Annabelle hunched her shoulders and rubbed her arm. “I admit it was a crappy thing to do, but I only had twenty-four hours to come up with a knockout candidate, or I was going to lose him.”

“That is not a man to mess with,” Sharon said. “You wouldn’t believe some of the stories I’ve heard from Ron.”

Annabelle gnawed her bottom lip. “I know I have to tell him the truth. I just need to find the right moment.”

Krystal cocked her hip. “Girl, there is no right moment to die.”

Charmaine clucked her tongue. “You are going straight to the top on my prayer list.”

Only Phoebe looked pleased, and her amber eyes glowed like a cat’s. “I love this. Not the fact that you’ll end up in a shallow grave—I’m really sorry about that, and I’ll make sure he’s prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. But I love knowing that a mere slip of a female put one over on the great Python.”

Molly glared at her sister. “This is the exact reason why Christine Jeffreys won’t let her daughter have a sleepover with the twins. You frighten people.” And then, to Annabelle, “What do you want us to do?”

“Just don’t mention Gwen’s name around him, that’s all. I can’t see any reason the guys would mention her, so I’ll have to hope for the best with them. Unless any of you can find a way to clue them in without actually telling them what I did.”

“I vote we tell them the truth,” Phoebe said. “They’ll laugh at him behind his back for months.”

“You don’t get a vote,” Krystal said. “Not on anything that involves the Python.”

“That is so unfair.” Phoebe sniffed.

Charmaine patted her arm. “You’re a little irrational on the subject.”

The sound of male laughter drifted toward them from the beach. “We’d better get back,” Molly said. “We’ve got all day tomorrow to talk about Annabelle’s problems, including why she brought Heath in the first place.”

Sharon looked worried. “I think that’s fairly obvious. Annabelle, really, what were you thinking?”

“It’s business!” she exclaimed.

“Monkey business,” Krystal muttered.

“Heath needed to get away for a while, and I need a chance to figure out why the matches aren’t working. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

Charmaine exchanged a loaded glance with Phoebe, ready to say more, but Molly came to Annabelle’s rescue. “We’d better get back before they start running plays.”

All of them turned toward the end of the dock.

And came to a dead stop.

Phoebe was the first to break the long silence. In her soft, husky voice, she said what all of them were thinking. “Welcome to the Garden of the Gods, ladies.”

Sharon spoke quietly over the lapping water. “When you’re standing right next to them, you don’t get the full impact.”

Krystal’s voice had a dreamy edge. “We’re getting it now.”

The men stood by the campfire…all six of them…one more gorgeous than the other. Phoebe licked her bottom lip and pointed to the oldest, a big blond giant with a hand cocked at his hip. On a never-to-be-forgotten day in the Midwest Sports Dome, Dan Calebow had saved her life with a perfectly thrown spiral. “I pick him,” she said softly. “Forever and ever.”

Molly slipped her arm through her sister’s and said, just as softly. “I’ll take the golden boy right next to him. Forever and ever.” Kevin Tucker, tan and fit, had hazel eyes and a star-kissed talent that had earned him two Super Bowl rings, but he still told people the night he’d mistaken Molly for a burglar was the luckiest night of his life.

“I’ll take that righteous brother with the soulful eyes and smile that melts my heart.” Krystal pointed toward Webster Greer, the second largest of the men standing by the flames. “As mad as he makes me, I’d marry him again tomorrow.”

Charmaine gazed toward the largest and most menacing of the gods. Darnell Pruitt had left his silk shirt unbuttoned to the waist, revealing a brawny chest and a trio of gold chains. As the firelight turned his skin to polished ebony, he looked like an ancient African king. She pressed her fingertips to the base of her throat. “I still don’t quite understand it. He should terrify me.”