Page 61 of Match Me If You Can (Chicago Stars 6)

One by one, the women’s gazes fell on Heath. Lithe, square-jawed, his crisp brown hair dusted with gold from the fire, he stood in the exact center of this elite group of warriors, both one of them and somehow set apart. He was younger, and his battle-hardened edges had been honed at the negotiating table instead of on the gridiron, but that didn’t make him any less commanding. This was a man to be reckoned with.

“Spooky how he fits right in,” Molly observed.

“It’s the favorite trick of the undead,” Phoebe said tartly. “Shape-shifters transform themselves into whatever people want to see.”

Annabelle suppressed a powerful urge to defend him.

“Harvard brains, GQ polish, and country boy charm,” Charmaine said. “That’s why the young guys want to sign with him.”

Phoebe tapped the toe of her sneaker against the dock. “There’s only one good use for a man like Heath Champion.”

“Here we go again,” Molly muttered.

Phoebe’s lip curled. “Target practice.”

“Stop it!” Annabelle rounded on her.

They all stared. Annabelle unclenched her hands and tried to retrench. “What I mean is…I mean…If a man said something like that about a woman, people would throw him in jail. So, I don’t…you know…think maybe a woman should say it about a man.”

Phoebe seemed fascinated by Annabelle’s rebuke. “The Python has a champion.”

“I’m just saying,” Annabelle murmured.

“She has a point.” Krystal began walking toward the beach. “It’s hard to raise male children with good self-esteem. That kind of thing doesn’t help.”

“You’re right.” Phoebe slipped her arm around Annabelle’s waist. “I’m the mother of a son, and I should know better. I’m just…a little uneasy. I’ve had so much more experience with Heath than you.”

Her concern was genuine, and Annabelle couldn’t stay upset. “You really don’t have to worry.”

“It’s hard not to. I feel guilty.”

“About what?”

Phoebe’s steps slowed just enough so they fell behind the others. She patted Annabelle the same way she patted her children when she was worried. “I’m trying to figure out a tactful way to say this, but I can’t. You know, don’t you, that he’s manipulating you to get to me?”

“You can’t blame him for trying,” Annabelle said quietly. “He’s a good agent. Everybody says so. Maybe it’s time to let bygones be bygones.” She regretted her words the moment she spoke them. She knew nothing about the inner workings of the NFL, and she shouldn’t presume to tell Phoebe how to run her empire.

But Phoebe merely sighed and dropped her hand from Annabelle’s waist. “There are no good agents. But at least some of them don’t go out of their way to stab you in the back.”

Heath had scented danger, and he came striding toward her. “Ron had his eye on the last brownie, Annabelle, but I snagged it first. I’ve seen how cranky you get if you go too long without chocolate.”

She was more of a caramel person, but she wouldn’t contradict him in front of his archenemy, and she took the brownie he extended. “Phoebe, do you want to split this?”

“I’ll save my calories for another glass of wine.” Without even glancing at Heath, she walked away to join the others.

“So how’s your plan working so far?” Annabelle said, studying Phoebe’s back.

“She’ll come around.”

“Not anytime soon.”

“Attitude, Annabelle. It’s all about attitude.”

“So you’ve mentioned.” She handed him the brownie. “You can work this off easier than me.”

He took a bite. From the beach, she heard Janine say she needed to finish the book before tomorrow. As everybody told her good night, Webster slipped another CD in the boom box, and a Marc Anthony song came on. Ron and Sharon began to salsa in the sand. Kevin grabbed Molly, and they joined in, executing the steps more gracefully than the McDermitts. Phoebe and Dan looked into each

other’s eyes, laughed, and began to dance, too.

---