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"He's a slimeball."
"He tends to give that impression with girls, which is probably why he specializes in male athletes. He's never had good success with females, personally or professionally." Denton laughed again and turned to stand in front of the patio doors.
I studied his back for a moment. Denton was…okay. He was a friend, of sorts, and he was mostly trustworthy, but I wasn't stupid. If Denton could sleep with me, he would. He wouldn't care if it hurt my relationship with Bryce. However, if he said he'd help, I knew he would. And he wouldn't say a word.
"Are you trying to burn a hole in my back?" Denton turned and flashed those dimples again.
I sighed as I dropped down on my bed. "I'd appreciate anything you can find on her."
"Sure thing."
"And if you have the idea about strings being attached, you better stop right now. I'm not going to owe you a thing. I don't work that way."
He held up his hand and made a scissor motion with them. "Consider them gone, if they were there. I'm not doing this because I want something from you, Sheldon. Sure, if you get the urge to jump my bones, I'm more than happy to make that happen. But I'm not doing it because of that reason. You were my neighbor for a long time. You and I have gone a couple rounds together. Plus, the whole thing with Mena…I know that you really did care about her. I want to help because I care about you, and I don't care about anyone except my sister so consider yourself lucky. And I can't lie to you. You always see through my bullshit."
"I don't know, Denton. You could make things worse for me."
He laughed. "All I'm offering is that I'll ask around. I'll have my agent do the same and we'll see if we can find anything on this girl and her family. How about that?"
I studied him intently. Was that really all he was offering?
Then he looked around. "Why are you in a hotel again?"
"My place was ransacked."
"Perfect!" He beamed. "You can stay at my place. It's isolated and extremely safe. It's big. You won't even know I'm there when I am. You can have your own side of the house. There's a security system and cameras. I'll show you how to operate it all."
"I don't know…"
"You can hide. I know that's what you want to do. Who would figure out that you're at my place? No one. Not even your two besties would guess. I know you're hurting if you called me instead of them. I can also figure that they're part of the reason you're hurting. That and a certain Spanish model that's been all over the gossip shows?"
Guadalupe. I fought against showing my teeth at the mere thought of her.
"Sheldon." Denton stepped closer as his voice softened. He took my arms in his hands. "You helped me with Mena. Let me do this for you. Please."
I knew he was working me. He played the sympathetic good guy perfectly, but I rolled my eyes. I didn't even care because while Denton knew me, I knew him too. And I knew he actually did want to help. I sighed and then removed his hands. "I will come, but if I get drunk and you take advantage of me, I will rip off your dick. You know that, right?"
"I'd expect nothing less." His smile never dimmed.
"Good. Where do you live now?"
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Denton sent a car a few hours later. I told him I needed time to pack, but in all honesty, I just needed some time to make sure this was the right thing to do. It only took thirty minutes to get everything together. With a text sent to Corrigan and Bryce, I was free to go. I told them that I was going to New York since my mother had flown to Europe for six months and the apartment was abandoned. I didn't care that I was lying to them. Denton was right. I needed to get away. I needed to regroup.
A couple hours later, as the black sedan weaved through trees and more trees, I was anywhere but New York. As we slowed, a gate opened; I was somewhere deep in a forest, but I was okay with that. Denton hadn't lied when he said his house was huge and isolated. It looked like a log home palace, secluded and tucked into some back pocket of the forest. I had a sudden vision of winter with snow all around and a fire burning. Something told me that Denton could live in that house for an entire year without setting foot in the world and survive just fine. No one would find it either.
It was my dream home, and I was nearly salivating by the time the car stopped before a five-car garage.
"Miss." The driver pointed back towards the gate. "There are three cameras posted along the perimeter. There are also four more hidden in the trees. Mr. Denton wanted me to tell you about them. The gate is electrical so no one can touch it in any attempt to climb over. It has a three second delay before someone is shocked."
"That's…good to know." And a little frightening if I was trying to get out.
"There's a latch behind the gate on this side. You can lift the black lid and pull the lever. The gate will open from this side if you need to get out."
There went that scary thought. I nodded and took a deep breath. Denton was globally recognized for his celebrity status. I shouldn't have been surprised at the lengths he'd go for privacy and safety. If Mena ever came here, he'd do anything to keep her safe.
"Is Denton here?" I asked when the driver took my bags out of the back.
"He headed to New York a half hour ago. There was an emergency with Miss Mena. His instructions were to show you to your room. He said you would feel comfortable with the home to yourself."
He was right. The driver showed me my room, set in some far wing of the house, and left me alone after that. Not only did I have a plush king size bed but also a tapestry that went over it. A few couches were in the corner that opened to a walk-in closet. The balcony was behind the couches. If my room was this grandiose, I wondered what the rest of the house was like.
I found an indoor pool, a tennis court, and a complete gym including a track. Then I found the kitchen, which could accommodate a restaurant staff. There was a huge rotating rotisserie in a corner. As I found one living room, I sat down on a plush couch and wondered why I hadn't taken advantage of my friendship with Denton sooner. Just then a part of the wall slid away to reveal a theatre screen that was the size of the entire wall. I stood up and found that I'd accidentally hit a button on a remote. The television clicked on, and I found myself staring at Bryce.
He was larger than life on the screen. It felt as if he was standing in front of me, but bigger. I jumped then patted my chest in an effort to calm myself. He's on TV. It's the game. He's not here. An interviewer stuck a microphone in Bryce's face and asked how Guadalupe was.
Any calming thoughts I had went out the window.
He was saying, "…we did the best we could. I think we've learned from our mistakes and will prepare for our next game. Thank you."
The screen changed to a group of announcers around a table. I realized they were discussing how ready the new left forward was for the California Suns and their competition. One announcer said that Bryce would crash and burn. A second said he'd do just fine after being challenged at the start-up. The third said he could always go right back to Spain. And the fourth smiled, nodded, and wished the new locally grown left forward good luck. The screen cut to another shot of Bryce at some event. He wore a tuxedo and had his arm around a beaming Guadalupe, who wore a red dress that barely covered her.
I threw the remote down, but it didn't do anything. That's when I crossed to the large screen and quickly found the on/off button.
Then my phone buzzed. It was a text from him.Are you sure you want to go? I don't want you to go. Can I visit you in NY? I will be there in a few weeks for a game.
I erased the message and didn't text back. I knew it was childish, but I didn't care. Bastard.
Then Corrigan called. I groaned but answered. "Hello?"
Corrigan yelled, "Why are you in New York? Why aren't you here?"
Loud music and laughter in the background made it difficult to hear him. "Are you are a party?"
"I'm at the bar. We're planning the homecoming carnival."
"What are you planning?"
&nb
sp; "I don't know. We haven't started yet." He growled in frustration. "That's not why I called you. Why are you going to New York?"
I grinned as I heard his last words slur a bit. "Are you drunk?"
"Maybe. Will you talk to me?"
"I am, about the carnival."
He growled again. "You're running away. Why are you doing that?"
I frowned. "Corrigan, what do you want?"
