Seduced by the Playboy

“You know it!”

The friends laughed.

“I never dreamed Gladys and I would be close, but ever since I got pregnant, she’s gone out of her way to help me,” Simone confessed. “She never follows the boys’ schedule, but she’ll babysit at a moment’s notice and always encourages me to take time out for myself.”

Angela concealed a grin. “I’m glad you and Gladys worked out your differences, because you’re really going to need her help when you get pregnant with baby number five and six!”

“No way. After I have these girls, I’m done. It’s your turn to be barefoot and pregnant.”

“I’m not having children, remember?”

“Why not?” Wrinkling her nose, her lips pursed, she placed a hand on her hip. “You’re great with my boys and the kids at the shelter love you. Even the teenagers. And everyone knows, teenagers hate everybody!”

“That’s different. The kids at the shelter don’t have anybody else.”

“Good with kids is good with kids. It doesn’t matter if they’re yours or not,” Simone argued. “You can have a career and a family, Angela. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

“It does for me.”

“That’s because you’re a perfectionist with implausibly high standards.”

“And proud of it,” Angela said. I’m going to make it to the top and no one is going to stop me, she decided, as an idea began taking shape in her mind. Tomorrow, she’d tell Salem she was on board to do the interview and submit a list of fake questions. Questions she had no intention of asking Demetri Morretti on the air.

A smirk tickled her lips. By the time Angela was finished with the baseball star, he’d be toast, and she’d be the talk of the town. And one step closer to sliding into that lead-anchor chair. Angela was going to take the news world by storm, and she wasn’t letting anyone—especially a sly superstar athlete with a chiseled physique—get in her way.

Chapter 5

“You need to change your name to Trouble,” a voice boomed, drowning out the hip-hop song playing inside Samson’s Gym, “because everywhere you go, trouble seems to find you!”

Demetri cast a glance over his shoulder at his former teammate and workout buddy T. J. Nicks. Unable to hold the weight any longer, Demetri dropped the barbell on the floor and plopped down on the workout bench.

Samson’s Gym, a state-of-the-art fitness center frequented by pro athletes, college students and moneyed professionals, was usually packed, but this morning there was only a handful of people working out. An older man, who looked as if he was on the verge of collapse, was lifting weights a few benches over, but he was so focused on his routine, he was oblivious to the world. And that was how Demetri liked it. As long as he kept his head down and didn’t make eye contact with anyone, no one would recognize him and he could work out in peace.

“I haven’t seen you in a minute,” Demetri said, swiping his towel off the side of the workout bench and wiping the sweat off his face. “What’s up?”

“You tell me.”

Shrugging a shoulder, he readjusted his baseball cap. “Nothing much.”

“Are you sure? From what I hear, you’ve been a very busy boy.”

“You saw the video?”

A grin fell across T.J.’s dark, narrow face. “Sure did. One of my boys emailed it to me. I almost died laughing when that gorgeous newscaster from WJN-TV called you a spoiled, overgrown kid who needed a time-out!”

Demetri chuckled, though at the time, when Angela was giving him a verbal smackdown, he didn’t feel like laughing. He hadn’t felt like lashing back at her, either. Maybe because his eyes were glued to her lips, and her scent was a bold, exotic fragrance that aroused his senses. One week after his infamous showdown with Angela Kelly, and he was still thinking about her. Demetri loved his mom, but he blamed her for his present state of mind. If she hadn’t called him last night from Italy and reamed him out for disrespecting Angela at her studio, he wouldn’t be thinking about the sexy TV newscaster now. He didn’t know why Angela had someone record their conversation, and post it online, but he intended to ask her. Demetri didn’t care what his mother said. He wasn’t a bully. Angela Kelly was a liar who had it coming to her.

“Are you here to work out or gossip?” Demetri asked.

“Both. You know ribbing you is the highlight of my day!” Chuckling, T.J. bent down and retied the laces of his white sneakers. “Why aren’t you working out at your home gym? Having it renovated again?”

“No, I needed a change of scenery.”

“Shoot, if I had a home gym like yours, I’d never leave the house!”

Demetri picked up his titanium sports bottle, unscrewed the lid and took a long drink of water. T.J. was a good friend, and he’d never put Demetri’s business out on the street, but he wasn’t going to tell him the truth. The real reason he was there, at seven o’clock in the morning, was to talk to Angela Kelly. Thanks to the owner of the gym, Demetri knew what days and times Angela worked out with her personal trainer. To ensure he didn’t oversleep, he’d set every alarm clock in his house and asked his personal assistant to phone him just in case. Now he was at the gym, waiting for her to make an appearance. He only hoped this time when they spoke, she wouldn’t go off on him.

“How is rehab going?” T.J. asked, striding over to the free weights and selecting a set of dumbbells. “Think you might make it back in time for the play-offs?”

“I hope so, but I doubt it. It kills me not being out there with my team, but my surgeon wants me to take the rest of the season off, and I’m not going to disregard his advice. The last time I did, I ended up tearing a ligament in my knee, and that hurt like a bitch.”

“I hear you, man. What’s next on your circuit?”

Yawning, Demetri stood and stretched his hands lazily above his head. “I’m going to do a couple laps around the track, then cool down in the sauna.”

“Really? You look like you’re about to fall asleep.” T.J. wore a quizzical look. “Why are you here so early, anyways? You never get out of bed before noon.”

Demetri thought fast and said the first thing that popped into his mind. “I’ll be tied up the rest of the day, so I decided to get my training out of the way now.”

Eyes wide, T.J. dropped the dumbbells back on the rack and gestured to the cardio room. “Dude, guess who just strode up in here looking like my next baby mama. Angela-sexy-as-sin-Kelly!” he hollered, eagerly rubbing his hands together. “I’ve met a lot of gorgeous girls, but that honey takes the cake. She’s hot, successful and crazy-smart.”

“Sounds like somebody has a crush,” Demetri teased, poking fun.

“Who doesn’t? She’s one of the baddest chicks around!”

Demetri wore a blank face. He didn’t want his friend or anyone else to know that he was feeling Angela Kelly. He had a knack for picking the wrong woman, and the TV newscaster was everything he didn’t want in a girlfriend. From now on, he was staying away from fame-loving, celebrity-obsessed types. His ex, a wildly popular R & B singer with a good-girl image, had gone to extraordinary lengths to keep their relationship a secret. But Demetri was through with secret phone calls, ducking out back doors and clandestine meetings in hotel rooms across town. He’d just have to fight his attraction to Angela Kelly, because hooking up with the feisty, headstrong sister was asking for trouble. “She’s all right,” he said with a shrug. “Too prissy for me, though.”

“All right?” When T.J.’s jaw dropped, his tongue fell out of his open mouth. “Man, please. Angela Kelly is a dime piece and you know it!”

Spotting Angela inside the cardio room, Demetri admired her shapely physique. He liked to see tall, athletic women in bright, figure-hugging workout clothes. He loved how the TV newscaster’s yellow shirt and fitted leggings showed off her curves.

Demetri told himself to look away, but his eyes were glued to Angela’s big, beautiful backside. And when she bent over and touched her toes, all the blood drained from his head. Swallowing hard, he gulped down the rest of his water.

“Quit frontin’, man.” T.J. leveled a finger at him. “You’re hot for Angela, too, just like every other guy in Chi-Town. You’re just scared of getting shot down.”

Demetri shook his head. “She’s not my type.”

“Yeah, right!”

“If I wanted Angela Kelly, I could have her, but I don’t, so—”

“No offense, bro, but she’s way out of your league.”

Now Demetri was the one with wide eyes. “I’m not trying to brag, T.J., but I’m one of the highest-paid athletes in baseball,” he said, feeling the need to defend himself. “Money is no object, man. You know that.”

“Yeah, but you know how you are with your money.”

“No, I don’t. How am I?”