Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars #6)(88)

“If that woman ever realizes how scared you are of her, you’ll really be screwed.”

“She’s such a pain in the ass. I keep telling myself to walk away, but …Hell, I don’t know…It’s like I’ve got X-ray vision, and I can see who she really is underneath all the bullshit.” He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with saying so much, even to his best friend.

Heath understood. “Tell me we’re not sharing our feelings, Mary Lou.”

“Fuck you.”

“Shut up and watch the game.”

Bodie relaxed into the chair. Initially he’d been attracted by Portia’s beauty, then by her sheer gall. She had as much grit and determination as any teammate he’d ever played with, and those were qualities he respected. But when they made love, he saw another woman, one who was insecure, generous, and full of heart, and he couldn’t get past thinking that this softer, unguarded woman was the real Portia Powers. Still, what kind of idiot fell for someone who needed so badly to be fixed?

As a kid, he used to bring home injured animals and try to nurse them back to health. Apparently he was still doing it.





Chapter Nineteen




Annabelle had trouble finding a parking spot for Sherman, but she was only two minutes late for the meeting Heath had scheduled, which hardly justified the censorious look from his Evil Receptionist. ESPN played on the television screen in the lobby, phones rang in the background, and one of Heath’s interns struggled to change a printer cartridge in the equipment closet. The office door on her left had been closed the first time she was here, but now it stood open, and she saw Bodie with his feet propped on a desk and a telephone pressed to his ear. He waved as she passed. She opened the door to Heath’s office and heard a throaty female voice.

“…and I’m very optimistic about her. She’s incredibly beautiful.” Portia Powers sat in one of two chairs positioned in front of Heath’s desk. His voice mail message hadn’t mentioned this would be a threesome.

Just looking at the Dragon Lady made Annabelle feel dowdy. Summer fashion was supposed to be all about color, but maybe Annabelle had gotten a little carried away with her melon-colored blouse, lemon yellow skirt, and the drop earrings set with tiny lime green stones she’d found at TJ Maxx. At least her hair looked decent. Now that it was longer, she’d been able to use a big barrel curling iron, then finger-comb the results into a casual tousle.

Portia was all cool elegance in pewter silk. Against her dusky hair, the effect was dazzling. Small, petal pink earrings provided a subtle touch of color against her porcelain skin, and a Kate Spade handbag in the same pink shade sat on the floor at her side. She hadn’t made the mistake of going into pink overkill with her shoes, which were stylish black mules.

Or one of them was.

Annabelle stared at her competitor’s feet. At first glance, the shoes looked the same. They both had open toes and low heels, but one was a black mule and the other a navy sling-back. What was that about?

Annabelle drew her eyes away and slipped her sunglasses in her purse. “Sorry I’m late. Sherman didn’t like any of the parking spots I showed him.”

“Sherman is Annabelle’s car,” Heath explained as he rose from behind the desk and gestured to the chair next to Portia’s. “Have a seat. I don’t believe you and Portia have met in person.”

“As a matter of fact we have,” Portia replied smoothly.

Through the long wall of windows behind his desk, Annabelle spotted a sailboat skimming over Lake Michigan in the distance. She wished she were on it.

“We’ve been at this since spring,” Heath said, “and now football season is starting. I think both of you know that I’d hoped to be further along.”

“I understand.” Portia’s smooth confidence belied her mismatched shoes. “We all hoped this would be easier. But you’re an extremely discriminating man, and you deserve an extraordinary woman.”

Suck up, Annabelle thought. Still, when it came to Heath, Annabelle didn’t exactly deserve high marks for professionalism, and she could do a lot worse than follow Portia’s example.

Portia shifted slightly in her chair, which cast her face into a harsher light. She wasn’t as young as Annabelle had thought when they’d met, and her expertly applied makeup couldn’t camouflage the dark circles under her eyes. Too much nightlife or something more serious?

Heath set his hip on the corner of the desk. “Portia, you found Keri Winters for me, and even though that didn’t work out, you were on the right path. But you’ve sent too many candidates who aren’t in the ballpark.”

Portia didn’t make the mistake of getting defensive. “You’re right. I should have eliminated more of them, but every woman I’ve chosen has been so special, and I hate second-guessing my most discriminating clients. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

The Dragon Lady was good. Annabelle had to give her that.

Heath turned his attention to Annabelle. No one could have imagined that he’d fallen asleep in her attic bedroom two nights ago, or that once, in a pretty cottage by the side of a Michigan lake, they’d made love. “Annabelle, you’ve done a better job screening, and you’ve introduced me to a lot of also-rans, but you haven’t produced a single winner.”