Carly Phillips - Hot Property

Amy laughed. “I thought she was wonderful.”

“Wonderfully uptight,” her mother muttered, the truth coming out.

Amy wasn’t surprised her mother had fibbed at first so Amy didn’t feel bad for leaving. Or maybe so she would. Knowing her mother, Rose figured if Amy thought the new director was so perfect, she’d get jealous and run home. She wouldn’t put anything past her mother.

“Have you met any nice men?” Rose asked.

“No one in particular.” She crossed her fingers as she lied.

Another drawn-out sigh sounded over the phone line. “Leave it to my daughter not to meet men when she works for a sports agency loaded with hotties. Rich hotties.”

Amy pinched the bridge of her nose. Definitely time to hang up. “My secretary’s calling me. I have to go. I love you, Mom. And I miss you.”

“I love you, too. And we miss you. Don’t we miss Amy, Darla?”

“We both miss you,” Rose said, blowing a loud, smacking kiss through the phone.

Grinning, Amy hung up, and with her mood light, she went back to figuring out how to change John Roper’s life.

AFTER ROPER LEFT AMY, he headed straight for the physical therapist’s. Taking her cue, he kept his cell phone and his Treo off, and sure enough, got through his physical-therapy appointment uninterrupted. He even fit a short gym session into the day. Amy’s solution worked well for him so far.

But by the time he arrived back home, there were no less than half a dozen messages on his answering machine, most of them from his mother. Roper thanked God she lived long-distance or else his life would be more of a hell than it was now. In her messages, his mother managed to hit all of his buttons and he called her back immediately, feeling guilty for taking an entire afternoon to himself.

That’s what he got for jumping into the role of man of the family too early in life. His parents’ affair had been hot, heavy and had petered out just as fast as it had started, leaving his mother pregnant in an era when women didn’t have kids out of wedlock. The beautiful starlet had turned to a man she’d thought would save her. Another impulsive decision, leading to the birth of his siblings. Ben and Sabrina’s father soon tired of living with his famous wife and took off, leaving Cassandra with three kids. Though Roper had been young, he’d taken charge. The family had come to rely on him, and he had been the decision-maker and fixer of everyone’s problems ever since.

He called his mother back and left a message both at her home and on her phone, hoping that would buy him some peace until morning.

Then he headed for a hot shower. As he stripped and flipped the water on hot, his thoughts turned to Amy, and he changed the temperature to icy cold instead. He wished that the effect she had on his body was all he liked about Amy, but in the short time he’d known her, he’d learned there was so much more. The take-charge attitude he hadn’t expected, the understanding of his relationship with his family, her pure determination to succeed in her new job that he could see in her eyes.

Eyes that made him crazy with desire.

He finished showering, dried himself and fell into bed, exhausted.

What seemed like moments later, he woke to the sound of his doorbell ringing. His doorman had a list of approved people to let up, so his uninvited guest had to be someone he knew. A glance at the clock told him he’d crashed all night. It was morning.

He reached for the nearest pair of jeans lying on a chair and made his way to the door. Without coffee, he wasn’t ready to see anyone.

He glanced through the peephole and let out a groan. He especially wasn’t ready to deal with the woman standing impatiently on the other side. Cassandra Lee had arrived.

NO SOONER HAD ROPER OPENED his door than his mother barged right in. “Darling!” She presented her cheek for a kiss, which he dutifully gave.

Then he stepped back and looked at her linen pants and blouse, obviously wrinkled from travel. “Did you tell me you were coming and I forgot?” he asked, knowing he’d done no such thing.

She narrowed her gaze. “Don’t play games with me, John. You didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t return my e-mail or text messages, so I’m here.” She waved her hands around expressively, ending by cupping his cheek in her hand. “I was worried about you.”

He narrowed his gaze, which didn’t take much since he was still half-asleep. But mentally, he was now wide-awake. That his mother loved him was fact. That she might have been concerned about his silence also might be true. But no way would she fly across the country just because he hadn’t picked up his cell phone.

“What’s really going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you mean. But I do need coffee.” She headed for the kitchen, leaving him no choice but to follow after her. “I took the red-eye and I’m exhausted,” she said, speaking with dramatic effect as she always did.

She blamed her original drama coach. Roper blamed her love of drama.

She made herself at home in his kitchen, looking through cabinets in her search for caffeine. Finally he took pity on her and opened the correct canister, removed the beans and ground them. Maybe once she had her coffee she’d tell him why she was really here.

Out of habit, he switched on the radio and Buckley the Bastard’s voice sounded around him. Though he cringed, he believed in dealing with life as it came. He needed to know what was being said about him if he was to deal with it.

He handed his mother a steaming mug. “So how was your flight?”

“Long.” She wrapped her hand around the cup and sighed. “Then to add insult to injury, the airport lost my bags. Of course they promised they’ll deliver them as soon as they find them, but who knows when that will be.” His mother paused to take a sip of coffee. “Mmm. You always did have the touch.” She lowered herself into the nearest chair, obviously exhausted.

But only one word rang in his ears. “Your bags? Plural?”

“Well, yes, bags.” She tucked her set blond hair behind one ear, the shoulder-length strands somehow managing to look sophisticated on her and not at all too young despite her best attempt. “How else can I stay indefinitely unless I brought enough clothes? Although New York does have the best stores. Better than L.A., even, and that’s saying a lot. I think I’ll call my favorite personal shoppers and have them start putting things away for me,” she mused.

“What do you mean, you’re staying indefinitely?” Roper felt a blinding headache coming on.

She placed her cup down and stared at him as if he were the crazy one. “Darling, your sister is getting married and she needs her mother to help her. And of course, you’re going through a career crisis of your own.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” he muttered.

“Not to worry. Mother’s here.” She treated him to her brightest smile.

That’s what he was afraid of.

“This just in.” Frank Buckley’s voice spoke into the silence. “Guess who had lunch at Sparks Steak House yesterday? Nice that our friend John Roper has time for wining and dining his new lady when he should be getting ready for the season.” The man waited a deliberate beat. “But that’s a high-paid athlete for you. No sense of responsibility. The Buck Stops Here, folks.”

“Son of a bitch.” Roper bristled at the report and accusation. “Who the hell called it in?” he asked.

“It could have been anyone from a waiter to a patron,” his mother said, rising and putting her arm around him. “You know what it’s like to be a celebrity. You grew up under a microscope. Let it go.”

He twisted his neck from side to side, releasing tension. He wished it was as easy as his mother said. “I just don’t like feeling as if my every move is being tracked and scrutinized,” he muttered.

“It’s part of the life,” his mother said.

“The difference between us is that you enjoy it. I just want to play baseball.”

His doorbell rang, cutting off whatever his mother might have replied.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who knows you’re here?” Roper asked her, resigned to more company. “Ben? Sabrina? One of your actress friends you charmed the doorman into letting up without my okay?” He saw his privacy going down the drain.

His mother shrugged, her gaze wide-eyed and innocent. “Actually, no one. When I couldn’t reach you, I packed and headed straight for the airport.”

He headed back to the front door and peered through the viewer, needing advanced warning of the person he’d be dealing with next. One look and his mood lifted. This was someone he didn’t want to disappear.

Roper opened the door, welcoming Amy, an addition Roper himself had made to his doorman’s list. “Thank God,” he said, pulling her inside.

He needed someone on his side when dealing with the steamroller he called his mother.

“Strange welcoming but I’ll take it.” Her smile broadened, easing his strain.

“Not so strange. You aren’t a member of my family, so I’m glad you’re here.” He shut the door behind her and drank in the sight of her.

Dark denim jeans covered her legs like a second skin, while a deep indigo top with bell sleeves floated around her, belted at the waist. Only a hint of a lace tank peeked out from beneath the flowing top. Once again she looked work appropriate and yet so damn sexy, he didn’t care that his mother was in the other room.

“So what brings you by?” he asked.

“Well, first the doorman asked me to give you this,” she said, handing him an oversize envelope with a handwritten scrawl he recognized as belonging to his most persistent fan. And not a fan in love with him, either.