Page 2 of Auction Time
I chuckled and shook my head. “So, if I spit the wrong way, he’s gonna get me?” I mused, actually finding this hilarious.
“Yes,” Denver agreed. “He will basically kill you if you do anything to mess up our chances this year, and after this morning, his attention is on you.”
Shit, I swear to God sometimes the people in Orange County were strange. It was the wealth and the heat. It got to them in different ways.
It was quite unlike Boston where I’d practically been for the last ten years. I only came back here to see my family.
I’d grown up in Orange County but moved on when I left for college. My mother still lived here, and she, of course, was thrilled to have me back. This craziness, though, was something else. Something else that I would have loved to find out more about if I wasn’t so taken with the gorgeous brunette down by the pool table who was doing her best to ignore me.
I glanced her way. Just briefly, just to check on her and see what she was doing.
Vanessa Cartwright had always mystified me in one way or another.
We’d gone to the same high school. I was two years older than her, but I’d definitely never missed the then mousy-type girl who was always staring at me.
You noticed things like that when you were popular and one of the high school bullies.
Her family was the essence of wealth. Richer than mine by far and practically owned Orange County with the whole Cartwright Enterprise.
Her father owned the two NFL football teams in LA. The Gladiators and The Centaurs, which meant he currently owned my ass too.
Back then, even with all that wealth, Vanessa had carried herself like one of the average kids at school. Quiet and unseen.
Until that night I would never forget.
She had that air of average tonight too, in a simple fitted T-shirt and tight jeans. Except that body of hers wasn’t made for average. It betrayed her quite unlike the body the fairylike being she had been ten years ago.
At twenty-six, Vanessa Cartwright had the body of a goddess. The type made for serious sin.
The goddess was fit and toned, but at the same time elegant like a swan.
It was that elegance and delicacy that I’d remembered. It reached out to me even now, beckoning me to stare and commit her to memory.
Her facial bones were delicately carved against the loose tendrils of hair that tumbled carelessly down her back. Her mouth full with those pouty pink lips that could get a guy in trouble.
A guy, a.k.a. me.
I knew she could feel me watching her, but she was talking it up with her sister and cousin, pretending not to notice me.
I knew too that I should have expected this sort of reaction after the last time I’d actually spoken to her.
I returned my focus to the guys.
They’d seen me looking at Vanessa and exchanged conspiratory glances. Denver chuckled and glanced her way too.
“What else can’t I do? This is interesting, and why am I just hearing about all this bullshit?” I asked.
“We all hate it.” Denver frowned. “And yeah, it is bullshit, but, bro, nothing comes close to that feeling you get when you win the Super Bowl. And two years in a row was a nice treat.”
I knew that was right and unfortunately, I’d never experienced that, not like my dad, who’d had his team win more than his fair share when he was a Patriot.
I liked The Centaurs and the way they trained. I liked the ethos of being unconquerable, so, really, I should be willing to follow Coach Simpson into whatever madness he laid down on the team since he was the glue that held them together.
He was the keeper of the direction my career went.
“Basically, just do everything the man says,” Denver added.
“Yes,” Matt agreed. “The next two weeks are crucial.”
