Page 6 of Quarterback Sneak

“And I thought I was doing the world a favor by sharing my cannoli recipe.” The same overt shame she experienced every time she turned the television channel away from the charity asking for donations to feed the children hit her. How many times had she written down the number intending to call, yet never followed through? She vowed, once she returned home, she would sponsor a child. Instead of rallying her, she felt even guiltier for being guilted into it. She drained her wine glass.

“So who is Vicenzo?” He lifted his fork and took a bite of the salmon, chewed it couple of times, then nodded his head.

Pleased by his response to her cooking, she refilled her wine glass. “In my family, it’s tradition for the oldest child to be named after his or her father. My real name is Vicenza. Everyone calls me Ivy. My grandfather started the restaurant, and my father manages it, when he and my mom aren’t gallivanting across the world on the family sailboat. Cooking is in my blood.”

“I can tell.” He scooped up another forkful. “Honestly, this salmon is phenomenal.”

“Phenomenal?” She raised a skeptical brow at his compliment. Given who he was, he’d probably been to many of the finest restaurants in the world.

“Yes, and I’m not saying that because I want to get into your pants. Unless it’s working, and then it’s exactly what I’m saying,” he said with a comical leer.

Heat rippled under her skin and a bright flare of desire rose at the prospect of allowing him the opportunity. She straightened her back, and batting her lashes, affected a southern drawl. “I do declare you are fresh, Mr. Rockney. How’s a lady supposed to answer such a question and be respected in the morning?”

He reached across the table to grasp her hand. “It’s simple. She never lets the night end.”

Chapter Three

“How did it go with Raina? Did she go all psycho like the last time you saw her?” Sweat beaded on Howler’s broad forehead while he curled a heavy weight toward one shoulder.

Sam gripped the handle on the vertical knee raise machine in his home gym and began another rep, his abs burning with every count. “That’s not really what happened.”

“Yeah, it is. Shit, you’re too nice. She went off on you about the cover with Gabriella, then turned around and accused you of screwing some hot reporter. Did you screw the reporter? No, you didn’t, I did. It was these guns that sealed the deal.” Howler performed his best bodybuilder impression and flexed his biceps while flashing a reticent smile.

“You better do some more leg presses or those scrawny sticks won’t be able to hold up those guns, let alone that big-ass head of yours.” Sam dropped his knees, twisted his torso, and positioned his legs to target a different set of muscles.

Howler dropped his arm and settled his hand on his knee. “So, what did Raina have to say?”

Sam had hoped to avoid this question simply because of the crap Howler was about to throw at him. They had been friends since their Junior Football League days. Both had attended the same college, and while Sam had been inundated with offers from the NFL, Howler hadn’t been as fortunate. He had, however, negotiated himself onto a team and then discovered he was better at being a talent agent than a wide receiver. Sam had been the first athlete to sign with his agency, and he’d never regretted the decision. “She said I was too perfect.”

“You, perfect? Yeah right.” Howler let out the big, booming laugh that had earned him his nickname. “I guess being a well-rounded individual isn’t appealing to her. You are far from perfect, my man.”

“Fame is intimidating to many people, especially when they’re in the spotlight. She isn’t used to being hounded by the paparazzi.”

Howler gave him a here you go again look. “She’s a contract attorney, which means she’s intelligent enough to realize what she was getting into. Blaming you for the tabloid crap with Gabriella is bullshit. You can’t control the press and what they write. You were on the cover of a major magazine with a beautiful supermodel. There was bound to be speculation, whether it was true or not.”

“Regardless, Raina is in the past. I met someone yesterday, she’s a chef.” A renewed surge of energy shot through Sam, and he hopped from the machine, eager to talk about Ivy. “I had dinner with her last night and I want to take her out tonight. I chartered my neighbor’s boat and put it on your credit card, so don’t freak out when you get the bill.”

“Have you received an update from the Feds?” Howler asked in a more serious vein.

The question cut through Sam’s good humor. His accountant had used all of his clients money for a Ponzi investment scheme, including Sam’s. The government had seized the man’s assets and all of Sam’s with it. Because Sam had been out of the country and in the middle of nowhere, he only learned about the fraud right before his return to the States. “No, not anything new. He’s still on trial, but don’t worry, I’ll pay you back.” Sam twisted, performing another set of leg lifts, trying to work out his frustration over the entire situation. He’d worked hard to get to where he was and he depended on his income to fuel his charity.

“I’m not worried about the money. I know you’re good for it. I am more concerned about the chef.”

“You shouldn’t be. Ivy is smart, gorgeous, and successful. I like her.” he grinned, unable to help himself. Thinking about Ivy lifted the burden of his thoughts and allowed him to forget about his financial woes.

“You met her minutes after you broke up with your last girlfriend. I can tell by that stupid grin, you’re falling hard. Why jump into another serious relationship when you can play the field?” Howler laid down on the leg press and positioned his feet.

“First off, I broke up with Raina last year. Our meeting was simply closure for her.” Howler had been biased against her even before Sam had started to date her. She was the attorney for the Pioneers, and his agent had had several run-ins with her over Sam’s future. “Unlike you, I don’t like dating multiple women at one time.”

Howler narrowed his eyes, ever the skeptic. “I get that you want to find some woman to settle down with, but your problem is you look for your future wife in every woman you meet.”

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Sam grabbed a jump rope and adjusted the wooden handles before he began to speed step. Unlike his friend, Sam was an optimist when it came to women and relationships. He wanted to settle down sooner rather than later in preparation for the next phase in his life, one he’d planned out in his head. He’d set goals and he had every intention of keeping to the timeline in his head. “Ivy isn’t just any woman. She barely has a clue about me, and it’s refreshing.”

“Not my point. You try to see the good in every woman, and while you’re looking toward the triangle in her pretty little end zone, you’re missing the big-ass chip on her shoulder that’s ready to sack you.”

Irritation sent the rope flying faster, along with Sam’s feet. “And you have the annoying habit of finding faults where none exist. I like Ivy. She’s sexy, smart, and successful. She also shares the same values as I do. What’s wrong with hoping things turn out for the best?”

“Nothing, if you’re normal. But you aren’t normal. Women throw themselves at your feet. Gabriella still has the hots for you. Her people keeping contacting my P.R. department to set up a date. It doesn’t get much better than a Brazilian supermodel.”

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