Whisper Privileges (19 page)

He was a coward. A jealous, hypocritical
coward. Javier only wanted what was best for him and if she hadn’t
been so young and stupid, she would never have taken up with him in
the first place. She seized hold of the back of her chair. But he’d
been so charming and attentive, so helpful in the beginning of her
career that she hadn’t even thought to look past the façade. Never
once did she consider he may have ulterior motives. Like Mahoney.
And what were those motives? Sex. Control. Power.

He wanted sex and then he wanted to use it
against her. Now that he’s getting it from Morgan, he’s content to
make her miserable. Never once did he wish her well as she moved
on. Not once.
Because he cares
, she mocked. Sydney pounded
the desktop and Charlie’s loathsome image came to mind. And it was
none of his business to tell Javier about Clay! What she did and
with whom was her business and nobody else’s. Why would he do it?
Didn’t he care about his friend? Was this about
her
? Was
this to spite her for turning him down cold every time he made a
pass at her, but saying yes to his friend?

If so, his ego was sinking to new lows, even
for him. Sydney spied the phone. Well if Charlie thought he could
offer her up to Morgan and Javier on a silver platter he had
another thought coming. This would not stand. In an instant of
decision, heedless of her previously discarded call, she whipped
around the edge of her desk and headed to Charlie’s office, however
doubtful it was that she’d find him there. The man evaded work like
a well-camouflaged lizard evaded predators. But she’d damn well
try. He was going to get an earful and it was going to sting.

As expected, Charlie was not on the premises.
With a quick spin back by her office, she hastily resumed her phone
calls, then headed out to the university. Someone had to work
around here. But she would not stop by the pool. She didn’t want to
see Clay when she felt this way, when she was so full of anger. It
would only ruin their time together and invite questions—questions
she didn’t want to answer. After all, it was
his
friend
causing the problem. Along with
her
ex-lover.

# # #

By six o’clock Sydney was exhausted and mired
in traffic on Dixie Highway. Field and track needed more water,
family center needed more info packets and the soccer crowd wanted
more shade tents. But it was All American’s slow response to the
basketball crews and their request for extra paper that floored
her. This was a major event. Why they would miss the opportunity to
impress a client was beyond her. Javier paid attention to details
like supply and demand and would drop All American faster than a
hot tamale if they didn’t produce, because it was a poor reflection
on him.

Javier
. She fumed inwardly. He was
“reflecting” on a lot of things these days. Sydney’s cell phone
rang and she snatched it from the center console. In the midst of
lane-changing she clipped, “Hello?”

“Hey, Sydney. I hear you’re looking for
me.”

Charlie
. “As a matter-of-fact I
am.”

“What’s up?”

“For starters, you can lose the jovial tone.
This isn’t a pleasure call. What the heck do you think you’re doing
telling Javier I had dinner with Clay?”

“You guys had dinner?”

Irritated by the low whistle on the other end
of the phone line followed by a soft chuckle, she snapped, “Don’t
play coy with me. I’m sure Clay told you and you told Javier and
I’m telling you to butt out. It’s none of your business.”

His humor remained strong as he argued, “Hey,
I didn’t do anything of the kind and your friend Clay didn’t
either.”

“He’s
your
friend.”

“Sounds like he’s yours now, too.”

She could hear the slimy grin in his voice
and seethed. “Well if you didn’t tell him, how did he know?”

“Maybe he has spies?”

“Not funny.” She pressed the gas pedal as the
light overhead turned yellow.

“Hey, all I told Javier was the answer to his
question—the guy you were talking to at the pool was a friend of
mine. Apparently something he learned from
you
.”

Sydney’s mind darted back to the scene at the
pool.
Had she introduced Clay as a friend of Charlie’s
? It
seemed obvious she would have made the connection...

“The only details I gave were the fact that
he was in town for the Special Olympics. No more and no less. So
whatever you’re talking about isn’t my fault. Javier came to me. He
asked and I answered.”

Charlie continued to ramble as she absorbed
his revelation. But for Javier to go to Charlie and probe? He’d
never taken his curiosity that far. That she knew of, anyway. Wait
a minute—

“What did you say?” Sydney asked.

“I told you. I told him the truth. Clay has
the hots for you.”

Perfect. And probably worded just as
perfectly.

“So what’s next for you two lovebirds?”

She yanked the phone from her ear and pressed
end
. None of your business. None of anyone’s damn business.
Sydney drove the rest of the way home battling thoughts of Javier,
Morgan, Charlie and Clay. Charlie was a slimeball, but Javier? He
never took it this far before.

Was it Morgan? Was she driving his actions
against her?

Morgan had always rubbed her the wrong way
but nowadays the woman seemed hell-bent on getting her out. And
Javier? What changed? She recalled the early days of her employment
and the way he smoothed the path for her. He took her under his
personal direction, gave her choice assignments, coached her as
though he were grooming her for success—even promised as much
several times.
You’re a natural in this business. You don’t miss
a thing and the clients love you. You’re going places,
Sydney.

Going places was right—straight into his arms
and into his bed. She heaved a sigh as she thought about their
affair. At one time it had been passionate. All-consuming, all she
wanted. Sydney remembered a time when she couldn’t think past
Javier Lopez and her job at JL Conventions. The two were
inseparable and she wanted for nothing more. She slowed for her
turn off, the green sign above nothing but a visual imprint of
memory. Admittedly, it was good in the beginning. Definitely good.
She was head over heels for Javier and thought he felt the same.
But looking back, she chalked most of it up to her age. She was
young, he was experienced. Her job meant everything to her and he
was more than willing to assist her fast-track to success.

But in her heart of hearts, she knew there
was more to it. She stopped for the light. Javier was the first man
who catered to her needs as a woman. He constantly praised her
talents, took note of her looks, her attire, encouraged her to
resume the game of volleyball and get back into tournaments. And he
did so in subtle ways. Not with sexual innuendos, but instead he
focused on the things that mattered to her. He spoke of her drive
and ambition in sexy terms. He commented on her powerful body, the
strength of mind she exuded during competition.

These were the things that mattered to her,
and he had claimed they mattered to him. But now, she regretted the
day she ever slept with the man. She was nothing more than a lover
in his portfolio, a pawn in his company, a woman who depended on
him for her paycheck. She heaved a sigh. Dependence didn’t suit
her. She no longer liked the idea that Javier held any sway over
her career. He could make or break her future with an assignment or
lack thereof. But she wanted to be in charge of her future, make
her own decisions and she certainly didn’t want anyone hovering
about her, dictating who she could or could not see. That was her
business. And Clay Rutledge?

She wanted to see him again. But with Javier
breathing down her throat, Morgan clawing at her back, did she
dare?

Chapter Fourteen

Clay’s pulse pumped at the sight of her.
Wearing sneakers, shorts and a pale pink Polo, she blended in with
the surrounding fans, except for the fact she stood a good foot
over those in her immediate vicinity. None were nearly as
attractive, either. Long muscular legs, broad shoulders, her brown
hair pulled back into a ponytail, Sydney looked fit and sporty and
every inch the top-level athlete he knew her to be. Engrossed in
the current competition, she was a beautiful sight to behold.

A sight he missed. Why she hadn’t stopped by
yesterday, he didn’t know, but he was glad to have her here now. He
liked watching her, even better when he thought of how her lips
tasted, how her response had mirrored his own. Amused by her
present enthusiasm, he walked toward her and a smile crept onto his
lips. For someone who was relatively unenthused about the events in
general, she sure was cheering someone on for the win—a someone she
most surely didn’t know.

But it was a desire he understood. You
couldn’t watch these kids without feeling their excitement and not
just the win but the competition as a whole. They were unlike other
athletes, the ones who brooded when they lost, acted with hostility
toward their opponents, dead set on crushing any and all rivals.
These kids were encouraging. Yes they were in it to win it, but
they saved room for camaraderie. They treated competitors with
kindness and respect—even when they wanted to beat them. Seeing
Sydney shout for them was a testimonial to their charm.

Clay continued until only a few people
separated him and Sydney and stopped. Partly obscured by the group
of volunteers, labeled as such by their bright orange T-shirts, he
decided to wait until the race ended. At the sound of the horn, she
leapt up as though her team won. He chuckled. Who knows? Maybe it
did!

Though he didn’t care who won at the moment.
He was only glad to see her. When Sydney turned, he stepped clear
of the group and called out, “Sydney!” She turned, a mix of
surprise and confusion in her eyes. When it registered it was him,
embarrassment slithered into her gaze. He closed the space to feet
and asked, “Your team win?”

She drew a hand to her mouth and tapped the
floor with her gaze. “You know I don’t know any of these
teams.”

“Sure could have fooled me. You were going
crazy for
someone
.”

She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Yes,
well, competition always seems to get to me.”

“Me too,” he replied. “Q is up after the next
round.”

“Great...”

“Would you like to come watch with me?”

“
Er
—I don’t know.”

“Too much work to do?” he asked, more hastily
than he intended.

“Well,” she evaded and glanced around the
pool deck. “I do need to check on things.”

“Can you spare a couple of minutes?” She
paused, seemingly trapped by his direct request. “C’mon, even a
busy event mogul like you should be able to spare a few minutes to
watch the events you’re working.”

She sighed, held back for a few seconds then
acquiesced, “Okay. Let me go and see if the staff needs anything
and then I’ll stop by.”

“Great,” he said, though his gut told him
things weren’t “great” at all. Something was bothering her. She
showed none of the pleasure at seeing him that he would have
expected after a night together that had gone well. Dinner had been
a good time and the kiss...well, the kiss had been phenomenal.

Had he gone too far? It didn’t feel like it
the other night. It felt soft and sweet, easy and right. But as he
watched her walk away, he knew something was off. It was a
“something” he was going to find out and soon.

True to her word, Sydney showed up just in
time for the race. “This is Q’s best race.” He stood as she sat
down on the metal bench next to him. “He’s totally pumped.”
Lowering, he sat beside her, but not too close. Last thing he
wanted to do was scare her off, if she was having doubts.

The bleachers around them were spotty, family
and friends sat here and there, a few volunteers. Never failed.
Every event, strangers came in droves to sign on and help and when
not working, they watched the games. Swimmers on the other hand,
were relegated to be with their teams and from what Clay could
surmise, happily so. Q was standing just behind the pool’s edge and
while not quite smiling, he appeared okay.

“Is he up against those boys with the good
scores?” Sydney asked, a shade more indifferent than he
preferred.

Clay nodded. “Yes. He needs to win here
before he can go on to the finals.”

“I see,” she said, her face went grave.

“He’ll be fine.” He patted her thigh and when
she returned a hesitant smile, he felt a little thrill over the
fact she didn’t mind the gesture. “But if you get overexcited, feel
free to hold on to me.” He winked. “I’m pretty solid stuff.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly. “I’ll keep that in
mind.”

The horn signaled the mark to get ready and
his body tensed. He searched for sight of his son. Separated from
the group, he was now standing on the block in lane eight. Q was
nervous about this race which wasn’t good. One of his son’s
strengths was his ability to stay focused. He counted his strokes,
he knew his speed. But if he was nervous? He could lose his
concentration and if he lost this race, Q would be devastated. It
was one of his best and wouldn’t bode well for upcoming heats.
Worse, if he didn’t place for a medal, they might not be heading to
Brazil.

The overhead announcement came jarred him.
“Swimmers take your mark.”

Clay braced himself for the sound to start.
Bang
!—the swimmers dove into the pool and Clay was on his
feet. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Go Q,
go!”

Sydney was up by his side, cheering his boy
on as he took an early lead. “Look, he’s already ahead!”

Yes, Q had certainly bolted out in front.
Clay only hoped he didn’t lose stamina. While he was used to
blowing past the competition early on, seconds counted on this one.
If he dropped back due to exhaustion—even a little bit—it would
cost him the race. He noticed the kid in lane five was near even
with Q, easy to spot in his neon green goggles and shiny green swim
cap. And then he’d take the gold.