Page 50 of Some Like It Scandalous
He rang off and stared at his phone. Anna’s number was the third on the list. She wouldn’t care for the changes to the scholarship fund launch, but the renovations at the concert hall and security concerns required a few extra days.
Time enough for him to remove her as a target.
Richard caughtthe ball on the rebound and sent it slamming toward the wall. Armand pivoted and nailed it with a backswing. They played silently, only the sound of the ball thwacking off their rackets or rebounding off the wall filling the court. He shut off all the distractions—the security standing around the court, placed in obvious positions with their black-suited backs to him. He closed down the niggling desire to call his security to check on Anna, or better still, call Anna himself.
He shut it all off. Sweat soaked through his shirt and stung at his eyes. His lungs burned as he twisted, turned and caught every volley Richard lobbed. But it all halted when Richard missed his swing and the ball bounced off the safety glass behind him.
“Two-one.” Richard tucked his racket under an arm and walked over to claim the water bottles from the wall holder. He tossed one to Armand underhanded and unscrewed the other to drink. “So, how did it go last night?”
Armand took his time draining the bottle. “It was fine. Another game?”
The attorney stared at him. “Fine? You stalk the woman? You talked about her for years and then conspicuously avoided anymention of her for longer? Then you demand she meets with you and move her into the penthouse? And it wasfine?”
Bouncing the ball once, Armand pointedly took aim and sent the ball at the wall. Richard barely caught it and drove it back. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Playing.” He smacked it hard and sent it up and flinging back. Richard jerked hard to the left and smacked it on the rebound.
“That woman had more on her mind than just talking—what happened?” Like a bulldog with a bone, Richard wouldn’t let it go.
“We talked about her leaving.” Armand nearly missed and his hamstring burned as he overcompensated. Flexing his toes inside the shoe, he and Richard danced side to side, slicing, cutting and backhanding the ball. Every hard slap of the ball to his racket loosened the landslide of tension sitting on his chest.
“Couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t.” He’d thought it would be—hashing it out, hearing it from her exactly why she left him all those years ago. But that scar turned out to be hiding a bloody, festering wound. He wanted to strangle her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to keep her close, make up for all that lost time, and he never wanted to see her again—because if she wasn’t with him, she wasn’t in danger.
The conflict oozed through him like a cancer, eating away at his good judgment and common sense.
However, Richard didn’t seem satisfied. “And?”
“And nothing.” Armand’s turn to miss the ball, he swore and paced around in a circle trying to catch his breath.
“Yeah, I see your nothing and call bullshit. What happened?” Richard picked up the ball and held it hostage while he took another drink.
“It’s not important.” He dismissed the whole matter with a wave of his hand.
Richard snorted. “You know, I can stand in front of the press all day and spin the ‘they’re just good friends’ line all you want—in fact I just did. But you’re not fooling me.”
“Let’s play.” He didn’t want to discuss it, not even with Richard.
“Yeah, okay—we can play when you stop playing aloof prince.” His oldest friend bounced the ball once, then twice, but didn’t serve. “Talk to me.”
“It doesn’t matter, Richard. In a few days, we’ll have the situation sorted out and she will go back to her life and I will go back to mine.” Perhaps a ski trip—or a cabin on top of an icy remote mountain—as far from sunshine, California and Anna as he could. It would take some time to get her out of his system again, but he’d managed it once.
“Man, what are you doing?” Richard rarely fell back on slang unless he was genuinely concerned.
“I am fixing what I shouldn’t have broken.” Armand eased the pressure on his hamstring and stretched.
“So, what happened? She tell you no?”
“No.” Armand shook his head and walked over to claim another bottle of water. “She said she loved me.”
“That’s great.” Richard patted him on the back but halted when Armand gave him a baleful look. “Well, isn’t it?”
“No. Anna isn’t cut out for this life—for the responsibilities and requirements. She certainly doesn’t need to be in the line of fire. Like I said, in a few days, we’ll have it sorted out and we can all go back to our lives.” He snatched the ball out of Richard’s hand and set the water bottle down. “That will be the end of that chapter.”
“You love her.” Richard’s words cut through Armand and he missed his serve.
“Damn it.” He blew out a breath.
