San Amaro Singles: Slammed Part 14

"Likewise." Holden still had a fit athletic body, tanned face and wore his dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was dressed in casual pants and a golf s.h.i.+rt, but carried an expensive looking brief case.

"Come this way." She led him across the lobby, through a security door and down a short hall into a meeting room. One wall of the room was windows, overlooking the grove of Torrey pine trees. Tim and Dell and Luis sat at the long table, Tim with a notebook computer set up in front of him. "Can I get you coffee or something else to drink?" she asked Dylan and Holden.

Dylan gave her a look, clearly noting her businesslike demeanor. Meanwhile, inside she was all hot and achy thinking about Dylan's mouth on hers, his mouth on other parts of her body, his body inside hers...her breathing became shallow and she worked for self-control.

"Water?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Sure. Of course."

"Nothing for me, thanks," Holden said.

She moved to a credenza where Tammy had provided a selection of cold drinks and a carafe of coffee. Tim and the others already had coffees, so she poured a cup for herself and picked up a bottle of water for Dylan. "I think you know Tim...but I don't think you've met the others." She made introductions all around, and Dylan and Holden shook hands and smiled. She set the water on the long table in front of him and took her seat next to him.

"So you and Holden have already met and discussed the situation?" she asked.

"Yes." He pursed his lips briefly and his eyes flickered toward Holden. She was going to guess that meeting hadn't been fun for Dylan. Hopefully Holden had made him realize the seriousness of it all.

"Good," she said briskly. "Well, let's get started. You and I talked in Tahiti about some of the things we have planned, and in the meantime Tim and the team have been working to get things set up." She began by handing them each a folder containing information they'd put together on the two charitable organizations they'd decided on, as well as some additional background information Dylan would need to be aware of and an outline of their plan for him for the next few weeks. They reviewed some of the information and then started into specifics of event planning.

But it wasn't long before Dylan started giving them a hard time. "Dinner tonight?" he said, referring to the dinner that had been arranged with some of the Jackson Cole executives. "I don't know if I can do that. And tomorrow's out. I'm meeting with Elroy again about my boards."

"All day?"

"All day."

She looked down at the pen she held in her hands and the notes she'd made on a pad of paper. "Wednesday?" she said.

"I'm meeting Austin at the gym in the morning," Dylan said. "Then I need to get in the water in the afternoon with Brett."

She couldn't argue with the fact that he needed to stay in shape and to practice. She eyed him. "Thursday?"

"Same thing. Yoga cla.s.s, working out, surfing."

"Yoga cla.s.s?"

He grinned. "Yoga's very good for flexibility and balance."

She pressed her lips together. "All right. Well, Dylan, you're going to have to clear some s.p.a.ce in your busy schedule for these things. We want you to meet with the folks at Oceans Alive and Daytrippers before the first events."

"It's going to be tough," he said. "I have a lot of work to do to get ready for this compet.i.tion."

"Of course you do," she agreed, her back teeth grinding a little. "And of course training has to come first. But you have to fit these things in."

She caught Tim and Dell exchanging worried glances. d.a.m.n you, she cursed Dylan in her head. As if reading her thoughts, he smiled and leaned lazily back in the chair.

She took a deep breath. Was he doing this just to p.i.s.s her off? Sure, he'd been all agreeable in Tahiti when he'd been sharing her bed, but now he was here, back in the real world, the business world, he was being a jerk. Words rose to the tip of her tongue and she wanted to let them loose, but this wasn't going to be pretty in front of everyone else.

"Dylan," she said. "Can you and I speak privately for a moment? Let's step outside."

She caught the open-mouthed stares of the rest of her team as she rose from her chair. She paused at the door, waiting for Dylan, who stood with lazy athletic grace and followed her.

"Excuse us," he said to the others with a smile.

She gritted her teeth as she stepped into the hall. She closed the door behind them and led him into another room, this one empty, then turned to face him. He was right there, right behind her, and she nearly b.u.mped against him. Her heart slammed against her ribs as he reached for her, a s.e.xy smile tipping up the corners of his lips. He crowded her up against the edge of a big table.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" she demanded, trying to escape his grasp.

He bent his head and nuzzled her cheek. "What do you think? Isn't this why you wanted to be alone?"

She slapped at his shoulder. "No! Stop that." But her skin tingled everywhere and her stomach did a little flip. He smelled good, and he was warm and...she smacked him again half-heartedly.

He kissed her cheek then drew back, smiling down at her, his dark hair falling across his forehead, so gorgeous and s.e.xy she felt her knees wobble.

"Seriously," she choked out. "That's not what I wanted. I wanted to talk to you alone." She gave him a firmer shove and he took a step back. "Have you forgotten everything we talked about in Tahiti?"

"Of course not," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Thankfully, Jackson Cole jeans. And dammit, they looked good on him. "But I did tell you that I would have a lot to do while I was here."

"You weren't even planning on coming until a few days before the compet.i.tion! How can you be that busy?"

He eyed her coolly. "I made some phone calls over the weekend. I do have things to do. I'm not making this up."

"But you are making it difficult." She sat against the edge of the table, hands beside her hips. When Dylan's gaze moved up and down over her, heat flashed from her hairline to her pointy-toed pumps, and her skin tingled everywhere. She fought to ignore the fiery sensations. "Look, Dylan. We talked about the importance of doing these things. If you don't partic.i.p.ate, Jackson Cole will pull the plug. What did Holden have to say about this?"

"Same thing you're saying," he said, his gaze now lingering on her mouth.

She resisted the urge to lick her lips under the warm weight of his gaze. Her nipples tightened inside her bra and she cursed her body for responding like that. How was she supposed to be all business when she was getting warm and wet just from the way he looked at her?

"I wasn't getting a cooperative vibe from you back in there," she said. "I thought we had a deal, Dylan."

He lifted his chin. "Yeah. I'm here, aren't I?"

She sighed. "Listen. Here's the thing. Surfing is a pretty individual sport. You need to learn to be more of a team player if you want to be successful."

He frowned.

"You're not just marketing yourself. You're marketing Jackson Cole. And you're marketing the entire sport of surfing. Surfing has grown a lot-it wasn't that long ago surfers didn't get big sponsors.h.i.+p contracts like other athletes. Now they do, and you need to be grateful for that."

Oh man, she sounded like a mother lecturing a little kid. She hated sounding like that. Dylan's scowl was deepening, a p.i.s.sed-off glint in his eyes.

"You may think it's amusing to proposition flight attendants or make inappropriate comments to TV reporters, but this is a business and you are that far from losing this deal." She held out thumb and forefinger barely touching. "The surfing counter-culture image can work for you, but only if you do it right. You need to be humble, honest and generous. You need to take responsibility for your actions."

"Jesus," he muttered. "You're sounding just like Holden. He was giving me all this s.h.i.+t about crisis recovery."

She sighed again. "This isn't a crisis. Yet. You're no Michael Vick or Tiger Woods."

"Gee thanks."

"I meant that in a good way," she said. s.h.i.+t. She didn't want to be a b.i.t.c.h. She softened her tone. "You have the potential to be huge, Dylan. You have the charisma, the easy surfer dude charm. You're well spoken in front of the camera as long as you say the right things. You've established a good social media presence on Twitter and Facebook. We can build on that by getting you out there doing some good things. But you need to cooperate and partic.i.p.ate fully."

"Brooke." His clipped tone made her go still and blink at him. "I'm telling you I will cooperate. I'm here. I'm doing this. I get that I have responsibilities to other people than just myself. But make no mistake-this is about winning. I'm here to win this compet.i.tion. That is my top priority. I'll do everything I can to cooperate, but we're going to have to work around my training schedule. Do you get that?"

She stared at him, then whispered, "Yes."

"Good. Let's get this done." And he turned and left the room.

She bit her lip. Frack. She'd really p.i.s.sed him off. And she knew he was right. Maybe she needed to dial things back a little.

She hurried after him, back into the meeting room where the others were.

"Give me times and dates," he said, throwing himself back into the chair. He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll try to work my training around whatever you've got set up."

That was more like it. But he wasn't happy. And she found she wasn't too happy either, seeing the tightness of his mouth, the narrowed eyes and his refusal to look at her.

"No," she said quietly. "We'll work around your training schedule. I'll set up the appearances at our stores. And an autograph session at Surf Sisters. They can be flexible. We want you to do a photo shoot modeling some Jackson Cole clothing, but I'll contact Jules and see if she can work around your schedule too. I want to set up a meeting with Daytrippers this week and Oceans Alive early next week. This weekend is a fundraising event at South Beach for Daytrippers. There'll be music, a traveling aquarium, activities for the kids, a silent auction, food and drinks. We'd really like you to be there. We've already sent out information to the media, and photographers will be there to get pictures of you interacting with the kids."

He nodded.

"Before then, hopefully you'll have time to study up on the group and what they do so that if reporters ask you questions, you'll sound informed." She leaned forward. "And this isn't an act, Dylan. You need to be genuinely interested in these groups. People will sense it if this all comes across as a PR stunt." She paused and glanced at Holden, then back at Dylan. "And like I said, since we've already announced it, it's important that you're there."

"I'll be there," he said shortly. "The only days that are absolutely out, other than the week of the compet.i.tion obviously, are the Sat.u.r.day and Sunday before the compet.i.tion. I'm best man at my buddy's wedding," he explained to the others there. They all smiled and nodded.

Oh yeah, the wedding she'd agreed to attend with him. She studied him. Probably that was off the table now he was so annoyed with her.

They talked more, reviewing more details of what had been planned, until finally Brooke leaned back in her chair. "I think that about covers it," she said.

Dylan nodded, looking down at the open folder on the table in front of him. "Guess I have more homework to do."

She bit her lip, doubts swirling inside her. Were they asking too much of him? It was true that the compet.i.tion had to be his first priority. If he didn't surf well, there wasn't much point in doing all this other stuff.

"I've cleared my schedule for the next three weeks," she said. "Or mostly. There are a few meetings I can't change, but for the most part I'm here to help you with this."

He looked up and their eyes met. And held. Electricity arced between them. "Yeah?"

She nodded, nerves jumping. "I can pick you up and drive you to meetings. I'll help you with your schedule so you still have time to train."

"I said before, I don't need a babysitter."

"I know. I'm not babysitting you, Dylan. I'm helping. I told you in Tahiti, whatever I can do to make this easier for you, I'll do it." His eyes flickered and she knew with a flash of heat exactly what he was thinking. "It's my job."

She knew if they weren't in a room full of other people he'd be saying a lot more, but now he just nodded.

"Will you be at the dinner tonight?" he asked.

"Yes. In fact, I'll pick you up at your hotel," she said. "Our dinner reservation is at seven, so I'll pick you up about six forty-five."

He didn't like having plans made for him, she could see it on his face. No doubt he was used to calling the shots and doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But he gave a short nod. "Okay." He pushed back his chair and looked at Holden. "I'll see you then. Are we done here?"

"Yes, I think so."

They all filed out of the meeting room, making small talk about the weather and the upcoming compet.i.tion. That would be the week it would be hard to keep Dylan out of trouble, with nonstop parties and concerts, and all his surfing buddies and beach bunnies and about five hundred thousand other people there. But they'd deal with that when they got there. Meanwhile she'd take things one step at a time, and right now getting Dylan to that dinner with the executive team was the next thing on her to-do list.

Chapter Twelve.

He'd made it through dinner with a bunch of suits, an office meeting with the director of Daytrippers and an appearance at a Jackson Cole store at a local mall. And this was just week one. It was only going to get worse.

The mall appearance had been sick. Crowds of people. Brooke had introduced him and her words still made him squirm a little, but also feel kinda good. "Dylan's amazing surfing, his unique personal style and positive att.i.tude will help drive our Jackson Cole brand forward. We're excited to expand our relations.h.i.+p with such a talented athlete who influences so many young people all over the world, and not just surfers. We look forward to working with Dylan and cheering him on during the ASP World Tour this year and especially at our Jackson Cole Pro, San Amaro's hometown boy!"

And the crowd had gone nuts.

He sighed.

Yeah, he'd managed to fit in the other things he needed to do. He'd worked out at the gym a few times, done a couple of yoga cla.s.ses and worked with Elroy on his boards. He'd even managed to get in the water at Breaker Beach and catch some waves. d.a.m.n that felt good.

He loved surfing like nothing else.

Determination burned inside him. He'd come so close to winning at Teahupoo, so close to beating Heath Marlow. This one was his.

Now, Sat.u.r.day afternoon, he was at South Beach Park schmoozing with people the organizers wanted to spend money on silent auction tickets or to donate money to the organization. It was a good cause, and some of the kids were pretty funny. The way they hung on every word he said and stared at him wors.h.i.+pfully made him want to laugh, but also humbled him. Weird.

He tipped a can of pop to his lips, watching Brooke from behind his shades as she talked to a couple of people from Daytrippers. She'd worked the crowd, subtly directed him where to go and what do to, all the while looking so G.o.dd.a.m.n hot he wanted to drag her around behind one of these tents and roll around on the gra.s.s with her. Her long brown hair shone in the sun, her face half hidden behind big sungla.s.ses, her lips s.h.i.+ny and perpetually smiling. She wore knee length shorts that left slender calves bare, and a loose top with little straps.

And he thought that was s.e.xy as h.e.l.l? Christ, he was used to tanned, blonde beach bunnies with serious breast implants. He shook his head. Maybe he'd grown immune to those kinds of charms.

He spotted a couple making their way across the gra.s.s toward him. s.h.i.+t. Matt and Corey. What the h.e.l.l were they doing here? He straightened and shot a glance toward Brooke. Probably Matt and Corey hadn't realized he'd seen them, so he legged it over to Brooke. "Excuse me," he said, taking her arm to draw her away from the conversation she was having.

She gave him a brief frown that she quickly turned to a polite smile. "Dylan. What can I do for you?"

"Need to talk to you."

She shot the two men she'd been talking to a brighter smile and said, "Excuse us," as he dragged her away. "What's going on?" she asked in a low, tight voice.

"My friends are here. The ones who're getting married."

"Oh."

He paused, wrapped his arms around her and planted a big kiss on her mouth.

Startled, she didn't respond. Then she slapped a hand on his chest. Before she could shove, he murmured in her ear, "Please. Play along. Remember? I want to keep them off my back about finding a girl."

"Oh for" She sighed. "We could have done that without making a big scene in front of all these people. Now the whole world will think we're together, not just your friends. I'm not sure how that would go over with my boss."

"Oh. Yeah." s.h.i.+t, he hadn't been thinking about that. He'd just panicked seeing them. And there they were.