Lori Wilde - It Happened in L.A.

“I’ve beat the whole country at this game.”

“You haven’t played me.”

“True. So what do you want on the incredibly, infinitesimally slim chance that you win?”

“I have to think about it.”

“Don’t think too long. The game’s about to start.”

Little clicking sounds of machines being turned on filled the room. Laughter came from one side, a murmur of excitement from another. Gwen figured it was safe to look around, finally, but she was wrong.

Her teammates, at least the females, ignoring their machines and the big screens, were focused on Paul. She cursed under her breath and fixed her gaze on the screen.

The big introduction came first, followed by a quick recap of the rules. Then, the questions began, easy at first, but pretty soon they’d start to get tough. Then really tough. Ending with brutal.

“Okay.” His voice startled her being so near to her ear. “I win, I take you to a game in my suite.”

She turned to stare at him. He was so close if she’d leaned over a couple of inches her lips and his would meet. Again.

She jerked back, her thoughts a jumble of nonsense and by the time she got a sliver of calm back, she’d missed the first question altogether.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” Paul said, his soft chuckle just this side of annoying.

She took a big swig of club soda, then settled her game pad. “Hold on to your shorts, big guy. I’m gonna whip you so hard you’re gonna cry for your mama.”

PAUL LAUGHED as the second question came up. Which of the following played in 24 all-star games for the National League, and one for the American League? He knew the answer even before the multiple choices appeared on the board. Hank Aaron, of course. If this was as hard as the questions got, he was going to kick ass. Not that it mattered all that much. He enjoyed winning, too much, most of the time, but his real purpose in participating wasn’t the trivia.

He hadn’t planned on inviting her to a game. Hell, he hadn’t planned on ever seeing Gwen again. But he’d kept thinking about her.

Not the way he kept thinking about Autumn, even though he’d resolved to forget about her. No, his thoughts had turned to Gwen for a slew of other reasons. He’d really had a good time at the anniversary party. He’d liked the dancing, sure, but mostly he’d liked the fact that there had been no pressure. He hadn’t been trying to score, not really. So the night had been just what it was.

She was interesting. Autumn hadn’t lied about that. Smart, funny, and damn, she might be the first woman he’d ever known that liked sports as much as he did.

The next question came up, but he knew that answer, too. This was going to be a piece of cake.

He grinned at Gwen and she grinned back. She might not be the kind of woman he’d want in his bed, but to hang out with? Yeah, he could definitely see that. Not at his usual haunts, no, but he liked this bar. Liked the low-key atmosphere.

The only place he went these days where it was easy was poker, and even that had too much pressure. He’d never done well solo, so he was always finding himself at clubs or at parties where the law of the jungle prevailed.

When was the last time, at least before the anniversary party, he’d felt relaxed? When every move hadn’t been calculated to get him either a client or a woman?

It was time he had a friend. Admittedly it was odd that the friend in question was a woman. He’d never believed that it would be possible, but this might work.

“Gwen didn’t tell me you were into baseball.”

He turned to Holly, keeping half an eye on the big screen for the next question. “I’m a fool when it comes to baseball. And football. Basketball. Soccer, not so much.”

“Boy, no wonder you two get along. She’s the biggest sports nut I know.”

“You two work together?”

Holly nodded. She was a reasonably attractive girl, even though she wasn’t terribly polished. Her hair was a wild mass of blondish curls that didn’t do a lot for her. Then there were the eyebrows. But her skin was good and her smile friendly.

Autumn would have dismissed her without a second glance, would accuse him of slumming. He saw it as expanding his repertoire. So what that none of these women would ever appear on the cover of a magazine. They were real. And he needed some real in his life.

“What about you?” He glanced at her Nomar Garciaparra T-shirt, the Dodger third baseman the women all seemed to love. “Is that just to fit in with the natives?”

“I love me some Nomar,” she said, “but honestly I come here for the people. I never even try to win at this—oh, another question.”

He pressed the correct button, then noticed her hit one that was terribly wrong. No use butting in. She clearly didn’t care if she lost.

Gwen, however, did. He wasn’t keeping close enough track of her picks, but from her sly smile he gathered she was finding this as easy as he was. He wished the questions would get more challenging.

“One more, then there’s a break,” Holly said. “Round two is harder.”

“So Gwen said. She’s pretty good at this stuff, huh?”

“Amazing. I have no idea how she keeps all of it in her head. And it’s not just sports. No one will play Trivial Pursuit with her anymore because she always wins. She’s got one of those brains.”

Paul nodded. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Don’t get me wrong. She’s a really good sport about it. I mean she hardly ever gloats.”

“Hardly ever?”

“Only if someone’s being an asshole about winning. Men, I mean.”

“We can be real jerks.”

“I’m sure you’re not.”

He answered the final question of the round. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

He felt Gwen’s attention, even though he wasn’t looking her way. Not sure how, but he absolutely knew she was listening. He kept his gaze on Holly. “Then she’s not going to cry when I win this thing tonight?”

Holly smiled. “Uh, no.”

“Not even in secret? Come on. You can tell me.”

“Well, she did cry this one time—”

“Holly.” Gwen’s voice carried over all the room chatter. “What the hell are you telling him?”

“Nothing. I swear.”

Paul checked his grin as he turned to Gwen. “It’s okay. I understand. Women get all emotional, and that’s part of their charm.”

“I don’t get all emo—” She stopped. Gave an enormous sigh. “You are an evil man. You tricked me with all the dancing, but now I see it. You’re just evil.”

“Me? Nah. I’m the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet.”

The look she gave him was actually unsettling. It wasn’t at all what he was used to. The women he knew tended to have their own agendas blocking most honest interactions, and truth be known he wasn’t any different. But Gwen—her eyes were clear, her evaluation of him held no slack.

If there was going to be a friendship with her, it would be on the level. Straight up, no bullshit. He hadn’t had a friendship like that since high school. Huh. Tom Sutherland. They’d been close from the middle of grade school until just after high school graduation. He hadn’t thought of Tom in a long time. He’d had a stare like Gwen’s, only Tom’s eyes weren’t such a bold green. They weren’t quite as unflinching. And, of course, he hadn’t been a woman.

Gwen’s expression changed as he watched, her examination of him growing more intense by the second. Finally, she asked a question that took him totally by surprise. “What’s this about, Paul? Really?”

Honesty. No bullshit. He would stick to the game plan. “I hope we can be friends.”

“Why?” she asked, too quickly. “I’ve already earned you all the points I can with Autumn. She won’t think this is charming. In fact, it will make her think less of you.”