Fair Play

By Nadine Monaco

Steroids put an end to Jack Montgomery's superstar basketball career, and the scandal left his life in shreds. Three years later, he's on the comeback trail. He has one last chance to make it right. PR hotshot Jannine O’Connor won’t fall for his crap again. Jack betrayed her trust once, and she doesn't believe in second chances. But she’s running the publicity campaign for Jack’s basketball team—a huge stepping stone in her career—and his comeback needs to take front and center for both of them. For the sake of the team, she agrees to be friends and put it all behind them. But Jack wants more than friendship. Can Jannine forgive the past and risk her heart one more time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
• Release date: Aug 11, 2017
• ISBN: 9781509215157

Book preview

Inc.

"I had a nice time tonight.

I thought it would be weird and awful. The honest words escaped her lips. Not that you’d be weird and awful, but…"

Well, except for a few notably bad moments, we got along pretty well.

She nodded, but her throat tightened. Those few notably bad moments had been pretty miserable. But this was their fresh start—as friends. I built up a lot of anxious thoughts in my head.

I knew it wouldn’t be awful. We rarely did awful. His eyes pierced hers, and his body moved closer, the distance between them shrinking. And whatever we couldn’t resolve with a conversation, we usually took care of in bed.

Probably not the best way to handle things.

Oh, I don’t know. I think we both enjoyed that fallback position. He closed the gap between them, his body practically resting upon hers.

Uh-huh. Her voice, just a thin whisper, couldn’t deny his words. They’d never had any problems while naked in bed. There, the rest of the world had floated away. I should get going. She tried to move her legs, but the rest of her body refused to cooperate.

Wait a sec. His hands shifted and brushed against the sensitive skin at the back of her neck.

What?

Let’s not go yet.

Fair Play

by

Nadine Monaco

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Fair Play

COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Nadine Monaco

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Champagne Rose Edition, 2017

Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1514-0

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1515-7

Published in the United States of America

Dedications

To Michael, Daniel, and Ryan,

the most wonderful men in my life.

~*~

To Debbie

for showing me the error in my ways.

Jannine now works because of you.

~*~

To Linda, Robyn, and Allie

for being great and supportive readers.

I appreciate that so much.

~*~

To Tana

for your encouragement

and for always being the best ear.

~*~

To The Wild Rose Press

for helping me create the best book I could.

~*~

Finally, to the UVA Cavaliers.

I love watching you play.

Chapter One

Lady comin’ into the locker room! The team general manager’s deep voice bellowed from the hallway outside the heavy wood door. Then a hard slap echoed against the solid oak entry, and it swung wide open. Cover up if you need to.

Jack Montgomery dropped the damp towel wrapped around his waist and grabbed for the boxers hanging on a hook in his locker. His fingers shook, and his pulse revved up. Shit. This was it.

A second later, Steve Smith barreled into the crowded Breakers’ changing space with a firm grip around the shoulders of a pretty little redhead in a fitted gray suit and pointy black heels. She took two steps for his one just to keep up.

Jack slipped on his plaid cotton undershorts and pressed a tight fist into his side. His heart lurched, and his whole body tensed. Jannine O’Connor. She’d once been his pretty little redhead—before he screwed it all up.

Steve, some of the guys are still naked. Jannine jerked out of the general manager’s grasp and cupped a palm over her brow, shielding her gaze from the players. Some wore towels and some didn’t.

So what?

I think this could have waited a few minutes. With her free hand, she readjusted the strap of a large black portfolio, which had slipped from her shoulder, and smoothed down the twisted collar of a silky dress blouse. The players just got off the court. I know you’re…enthusiastic, but no one is dressed yet.

That’s okay. We need to talk to Jack now. Steve shook his head and scowled, his eyes shooting from the bay of showers on the left to the long row of lockers on the right. None of the guys here are modest.

But there are privacy issues. Jannine dropped her hand and glared at the general manager, a deep frown on her agitated face. Also, I’m not comfortable.

Jack eyed her rigid stance, and his head filled with memories. Even though his team manager towered over her by more than a foot, she wouldn’t give an inch. Not Jannine. She had a line—she’d always had a line—and the big man had crossed it.

All right, all right. Steve heaved an impatient sigh and lifted his chin to yell once again. Our new PR manager doesn’t want to see any bare asses, so cover up. It’s not optional.

Her brows drew together, and she shook her head. That’s not what I meant. This is their space, and I shouldn’t even…

Jeez, she’s running our publicity campaign for a nanosecond, and already she’s maligning us. What’s wrong with our asses? A fully dressed Pete Worth, the Breakers’ center and Jack’s best friend on the team, hopped over a low bench flanking the first set of lockers and enveloped her in a big bear hug. God, it’s so good to see you, stranger. He took a step back and dropped his oversized backpack on the white tiled floor. Then he studied her from head to toe. You look so fancy.

Jannine’s delicate fingers smoothed back her hair—such gorgeous hair—and patted the tight, businesslike knot at the back of her neck. Well, I can’t run a multi-million dollar professional basketball campaign in sneakers—at least not when I’m presenting at a board strategy meeting. That wouldn’t inspire much confidence.

Jack’s gaze strayed to the few loose strands curling around her pretty pink cheeks, and his stomach clenched. She’d hated those cute little wisps, and he’d loved them.

Pete’s brows lifted, and he grinned. I remember when you were a lowly assistant right out of college, and now you’re running the publicity show. Times sure have changed. That was only five years ago.

Hey, there’s never been anything lowly about her. She practically ran the campaign her second season with us. Steve huffed, scowling at Pete, before focusing intent eyes on Jannine. While your colleague from the agency—what’s his name—managed our publicity for the past couple years, and he was fine…he wasn’t you.

Jannine lifted her chin and stood a bit taller, pride radiating from her lovely face. No one ignored an effusive—and rare—compliment from the bluntest man with the franchise. I’ve learned a great deal supporting other accounts for the past three years. I’m very glad to be back with the Breakers, Steve.

Pete raised his large palms in mock defeat. Of course, I know she’s the best. He leaned in again for a quick kiss on her cheek. I’ve got to run, but I look forward to catching up later. Pete winked, picked up his gear, and dashed out of the locker room.

I appreciate the nice words. Jannine’s lips pressed together, almost smiling, her gaze darting from the general manager to the back of the departing team center. From both of you.

Don’t thank me. The gruff Steve switched back on. We expect a lot from you.

And you’ll get it. Confidence rang in her strong, feminine voice. No PR person knew the Breakers better than Jannine. There’s this window of opportunity…

Speaking of our window of opportunity…here he is! Steve’s eyes lit up, and he zigzagged around a laundry bin overflowing with crumpled white towels. Here’s our comeback kid! Ignoring Jack’s lack of clothing, Steve clasped his returning player’s forearm with enthusiasm. The board just approved the final publicity budget, so we got the green light to move ahead.

Jack’s stomach tightened again, but he smiled right through it. He appreciated Steve’s enthusiasm. He really did. The abrasive team manager had gone to bat for him a dozen times in the past few weeks, and others followed his lead. But Steve—and the rest of the team—expected so much. That’s great news.

Jannine did an excellent job at the strategy session. We were all impressed. The board liked what she said—how we deal with your comeback, your problem leg, the steroids.

Jack sucked in a warm breath and nodded, his neck suddenly stiff. The word steroids had rolled off Steve’s tongue like it meant nothing—instead of the worst mistake in Jack’s life.

Her plan is good for you and the team. I know you’ve got PT soon, but I wanted the three of us to sit down for a few minutes. Steve tilted his head toward a small office beside the row of lockers, his fingers tapping restlessly along the sides of his pants. Just some of the highlights right now, since there’s a lot to go over.

Okay, sounds good. Jack’s gaze shifted from the team senior manager to the pretty young woman standing right beside him. She was still so beautiful, so perfect. His heart throbbed; three years hadn’t changed a thing. Hey, Jannine.

Hi, Jack. Her fingers lifted into a little wave, but the sparkle in her eyes from moments ago had vanished. It’s good to see you.

Jack nodded. Those baby blues of hers and her pretty red curls, even in that professional do, knocked him in the gut. How many times had he run his fingers through her fiery mane? Probably a million.

Jack’s gaze dropped to his boxers, and he took in another breath. Nerves raced through his body. Everything hit at once. The team. Jannine. He’d been prepared for this, but not really prepared. I don’t mind talking in my underwear, but maybe you can give me a minute to pull on some shorts and a shirt?

Steve jerked his head down, his eyes shifting to the thick watch on his wrist. The big guy always had somewhere to go. Sure, take a minute, but not much more than that. I’ve got to meet with the folks in finance soon.

Jack grabbed for a pair of mesh gym shorts and pulled them up his long, tired legs. Then he yanked at a snug Breakers’ athletic shirt and slid it over his head.

You can see how fit he is. Steve’s hand jutted to an inch of Jack’s midsection and hovered there, his fingers splayed wide. He hasn’t just been working his problem leg. His abs look great too. He’s in the best shape ever.

Jannine barely responded, didn’t even blink, but her chin tipped forward. That’s good to hear.

I just want you to know how ready he is to be back. Steve’s emphatic tone rang out loud.

Yes, I can see that. Her cool gaze skimmed Jack’s torso, before sliding up to his eyes. He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to flinch. I’m glad you’re doing well. Her words came out calm and professional, but her shoulders tensed, as she gripped the large portfolio nestled under her arm. Uh…I know our time is limited today. You both have appointments. Why don’t we sit down?

A minute later, Jannine scooted into the corner spot around the desk in the small side office, allowing Jack and Steve more leg room in the tiny space. She quickly opened the top flap of an expensive-looking eel-skin briefcase and pulled out three bound presentation books. Thin, gold bangles on her wrists jangled as she handed one to Steve and another to Jack.

There’s a lot of data in here. Jannine tapped on the outer sleeve of Jack’s copy. Her big blue eyes, so serious, shot to his.

He nodded, grasping the thick binder, his elbow brushing up against the wall across from the door. He met her intent stare, and a hard knot lodged in his throat. God, he’d missed her bright eyes and warm smile. Okay.

The key bits for you are all the scheduled milestones. In the back, I’ve highlighted dates you need to care about.

Jack flipped to the last page in the presentation, and his heart thumped hard again. Damn. Yellow highlighter practically covered a detailed calendar chart with a million action items. So I need to care about everything? He breathed deeply, his eyes flickering down at her.

Jannine’s brows quirked upward, and she reached for a pen in the middle of the small table. She clicked and unclicked the slim ballpoint. I can cross a few things off the list, but we’re really getting ready for the Jack Montgomery show Part Two.

Yeah, I guess we are. He shifted in his chair, struggling to make his legs comfortable under the low office table. All of a sudden, his damned knee, his problem knee, ached like a son of bitch, and he flinched. This room was too damned small.

Are you okay? Jannine twisted her neck toward his leg, her face knit with alarm. Is something wrong with…

No, it’s no big deal. He tightened his jaw and stifled a grimace. His knee would not be the focus of this meeting. Small tables like this are kind of awkward for me.

I can move, give you more room. She pressed her fingers on the edge of the table, leaning forward to grab her briefcase and pull it out of the way.

Jack’s hand jutted out in her direction. No, this is fine. Really.

Jannine hunched over, still giving him some added space. Her sweet scent, something floral, brushed over him as she made room. We have a lot of good to work with—and I’ll keep you on track. That’s part of my job. I know we can persuade our wonderful, dedicated fans Jack Montgomery still has a few great seasons left in him—and that you’ve cleaned up your act. We’re going to become the most talked about team in the league again. She shifted once more, and her knee brushed his leg and stiffened. Her gaze shot to his before dropping to the papers in front of them. We need you to fill those seats this season. You can do it. You’re the cornerstone of this campaign.

I get it. Just tell me where to be, what to say. He’d do whatever they needed him to do. He wouldn’t blow it this time.

Years ago, he’d enjoyed the publicity, really eaten it up. Now, it meant he had to deliver, and it scared the hell out of him. What if he failed? He’d let down so many people who needed him to succeed, so many people he’d disappointed. This second chance meant everything.

There’s going to be a lot of questions about the drugs, the steroids. Are you ready for that? she asked, her tone softening a bit.

Jack ran a tense hand across his forehead, pressing tight fingers into his brow. Yeah, I’m ready. I have to be ready. He brushed aside the guilt and self-doubt that plagued him. It had no business here.

All your blood work came back clean. That will mean something.

His chest tightened. The drug monitoring and testing were a pain in the ass, but really a small price to pay. He’d made the crappy decisions and now had to live with the consequences. He had no right to complain. I haven’t touched the stuff in years. Not since…

You can look like a hero if we do this right, she broke in, her voice still soft but direct. You can be the guy who fought his way back on top the hard way, or you can be a fake and a liar who is trying to fool us all over again. She paused and cleared her throat before flipping a page in her presentation. It’s my job to convince everyone the first story is true.

It is true. His words burst out. Then he shrugged, pulling in a tight breath. I’d never do it again.

Okay, that’s good. Her eyes slid to his. That will make my job a whole lot easier.

He has to be ready for the media blitz, Steve jumped in and shifted restlessly in his seat. He focused more on his watch than their meeting. I need to go in a minute.

Our first media event is in just one week. We expect both local and national press. Jannine flipped to a new slide in her presentation and pointed to a long list of television, radio, and print reporters. Her gaze flashed back to Jack. There’s going to be a lot of interest in your journey back to the Breakers. And not everybody is nice.

Yeah, I’m not really expecting nice.

She pressed back in her seat and heaved a sigh. That’s good. There’s this ugly…unpleasant Twitter feed about you that’s picking up interest. We’re keeping an eye on it.

We want to kibosh that crap. Steve’s face twisted into a scowl.

Social media can be tricky. Jannine tapped her long, slender fingers over her lips. Kiboshing isn’t always possible. It’s not like working with the established press. With the traditional media, there are rules—most of the time. A lot of social media is homegrown and semi-anonymous. Users can be passionate about what they’re doing, what they’re saying.

So a former fan has it out for me?

It’s hard to tell, but it seems like someone who has a personal grudge. But weirdly there can be benefits when that happens. Controversy creates interest. Often there’s huge pushback from the other side.

What does that mean?

Most people want you to do well. That’s the key thing. But you’ll need a thick skin.

Steve rapped his hand on the table and handed his presentation book back to Jannine. I think this was useful. His gaze flicked down at his watch again, and he shot up in his seat. Email me a copy of this—and make sure Jack’s ready for what’s next. A minute later, he sped out the door.

Jannine blinked, pressed back, and twisted in her chair. Steve always does that, doesn’t he? Zipping in and out…but like a bull?

Yeah.

"Sorry for barging in like this. I suggested we schedule some