Rival's Desire

“Or I’ll forget you’re supposed to be a woman.” He sneered, his stare cold as ice.

Of course, Vivian wasn’t about to let him have the last word. She stood, her eyes narrowed at Caesar. “Who the hell are you to threaten me?” she raged, storming around the square table.

Caesar stood, as well, but he was far calmer than Viv. As far as he was concerned, she could yell at him for as long as she liked. It was a treat watching her bat the long lashes that fringed her lovely dark eyes and toss her bouncy hair in his face. If she wasn’t such a thorn in his side, he’d—

“Dumb beast, you don’t even have the brain power to run this company!” Viv noted, one finger poised in the air.

“What the hell did you say to me?” Caesar roared, finally losing his temper.

Vivian remained undaunted. “You heard me. I can’t believe you’re even considering this. If the company needs to be looked after, I’m the person to do it!”

“That would be so true if we were being asked to keep the trash from pilin’ up! Unfortunately, this requires some skill.”

“And you think you have it? That’s a joke!”

Caesar stepped closer and brought his face to within inches of hers. “The joke would be you, Plum,” he whispered.

“Jackass,” she breathed.

“Witch,” he replied.

Everyone in the restaurant caught wind of the heated conversation between the two well-known diners. Every guest at Alindo’s considered themselves privileged to be witnessing a shouting match between one of the nation’s hottest pro ballers and a sultry member of one of the country’s most popular R&B groups.

Unfortunately, management was far from happy. Vivian’s and Caesar’s voices echoed throughout the now silent dining room. Soon, Sherman Joyce, the restaurant manager, approached the table.

“Excuse me, ladies,” the manager whispered to Francine and Carlotta, who held their foreheads in their hands. The two women looked down at him as he knelt between their chairs. “Is everything all right over here?”

Carlotta bent close to whisper into the manager’s ear. “I think the answer is pretty obvious, don’t you?”

He cleared his throat. “If they don’t keep it down, I’ll have to ask them to leave.”

Francine and Carlotta exchanged glances before turning back to Sherman.

“Do it,” they simultaneously requested, nodding when Sherman gave them a shocked look. Carlotta waved her hand to urge him to handle it.

Vivian and Caesar were still arguing full-steam. Insults flew back and forth—each one more harsh than the last. When Sherman approached them, he covered his ears and joined in.

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you two to leave!”

Caesar and Viv ended their squabbling amid Sherman’s shouting. When they heard the word “leave,” they watched him for a moment. Then they turned to their grandmothers.

“You heard him,” Francine replied, her arched brows rising toward her grandson and Viv.

“You’re just gonna let him throw us out?” Viv asked, disbelief clear on her face.

“That’s right,” Carlotta sang, turning her attention to the delicious-looking salad that had arrived before the fight.

Vivian and Caesar watched in utter amazement as their grandmothers enjoyed their food. The manager, who stood behind them, cleared his throat softly. With the grace of a queen, Viv retrieved her purse from the table and headed for the nearest exit. Caesar followed.

“I can’t believe you got us thrown out of here,” Viv muttered as they walked through the maze of whispering diners.

Caesar was silent as he strolled through the dining room, as though he were completely untouched by the scene. When the double wooden doors swung shut behind them, he caught Viv’s upper arm and made her face him.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t even consider doing this.”

Viv propped her hands on her hips as her onyx stare narrowed. “Why shouldn’t I consider doing this?”

Caesar stood back and pushed his hands into the deep pockets of his sagging khakis. “You’re too high-strung.”

“Too high-strung!” Vivian cried, her lashes fluttering as she struggled to calm herself. “How can I be too high-strung when you play football for a living? It’s just like I said, you don’t have the brain power to run a business!”

Caesar knew most people thought jocks were dumb, but hearing it from Viv never failed to get a rise out of him. He hated to lose his temper, but feared it could not be helped. Luckily, the grandmothers arrived in the parking lot before anything more could be said.

Dark scowls clouded Francine and Carlotta’s faces as they glared at their grandchildren. Francine propped her hands on her hips and stepped between Caesar and Viv.

“I suggest you two get your acts together by tonight,” Francine scolded.

Vivian bit the bullet and dared to ask a question. “What happens tonight?”

“We want the two of you back at Francine’s house by eight. We’ll finish our conversation then,” Carlotta explained, the tone of her voice brooking no argument.

Caesar nodded, shooting Viv a cool glance.

“We’ll be there,” Viv replied.

“On your best behavior,” Carlotta advised before heading to the taxi that had just arrived in the parking lot.

Vivian crossed her arms over her chest and watched Francine and Carlotta ride off in the cab. “Maybe you should use the time before dinner to think about who is better qualified to run this business. It’s obvious we can’t do it together.”

Again, Caesar took Viv’s arm and forced her to face him. “I already know who the best person is for the job, Plum.”

The deep, rough tone of Caesar’s voice turned Vivian’s legs weak. She managed to ignore it and look away from his roguish smile.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he told her. Then he smacked her bottom and walked away.

Viv let out a loud cry and rubbed her stinging derriere.

Caesar looked back at her and slapped his hand against his forehead. “Sorry, Plum, that’s somethin’ us dumb jocks do,” he said as he headed to his ride.

Shooting him a scathing glare, Viv was about to walk away when she remembered. “Caesar, wait!” When he sent her an expectant look, she ground her teeth. “Could I have a ride back to the house?”

Caesar laughed the instant he heard the request. The roaring sound grated on Vivian’s nerves and she stomped her foot out of frustration.

“Dammit, Caesar, I need to get my car!”

“So?”

Viv gasped and propped one hand on her hip. “How can you be so cold?”