Whisper Privileges (33 page)

Clay noted the bitter curl in Sydney’s gaze
as she filed in on Charlie. She swallowed, then turned to him, a
question in her eyes. As though somehow it was
his
fault
Charlie was ogling.

“Is she married?” Charlie asked.

“Wouldn’t know and don’t care,” Clay said,
purposefully directing his answer to Sydney.

He wiggled his brow. “How about I go find
out?”

“Why don’t you go do that,” Clay told him.
“I’m trying to talk to Sydney, if you don’t mind.”

“You staying for Q’s swim?” Charlie asked
her.

She bristled. “I work the event,
remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Sucks to be you.” And with that,
Charlie walked off.

Visibly riled, she replied, “I do not like
that man.”

“I know what you mean.” His gaze drifted
after Charlie. “I’m seeing a different side of him since I’ve been
in town. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“Odd. He’s been that way since I met
him.”

He turned back to her. “I don’t want to talk
about Charlie. I want to talk about us.” Instinctively he wanted to
reach out and grab hold of her arms, pull her to him. But he knew
that might make her uncomfortable. Like she said, she was working
the event. And her boss had put her on notice regarding the
same.

“There’s really not much to talk about,” she
said, filling the space between them.

“Why? Because I’m leaving in a few days?”

She lifted her shoulders as if to ask the
obvious. “Well? Aren’t you?”

“Why didn’t you return my call last
night?”

“I was tired, Clay. I’ve been working this
event for almost two weeks straight now with no break. It caught up
to me, is all.”

“You don’t call our trip to the park together
a break?” Because it had been a hell of a lot more to him that
that. It had been an excursion. A mini vacation.

“You know what I mean...”

“Or how about our dinner? Or the time at your
house afterward...” That had felt like a lovers’ getaway in
paradise. A frickin’ thrill of epic proportions.

“Okay, I had a break. What do you want me to
say?”

Why did she seem so frustrated? So angry?
“The truth.” He pushed. “I want you to tell me the truth.” That it
meant as much to you as it did to me. And why it is you’re suddenly
trying to brush me off. What changed?

“Look,” she said, glancing around as if
concerned someone might see them. “I like you, Clay. Okay? Is that
what you want me to say? But it doesn’t mean anything if it can’t
go anywhere.”

“It can go somewhere, Syd.” He grabbed hold
of her arms despite himself. “You just have to give it a
chance.”

She reverted back to the seats and Clay
followed her gaze to see Trish leaning into Charlie, playing to his
advances. She pulled away from him with a measured tug. “Don’t
worry about my ex. She’s nothing to me.”

Green eyes bored into him. “She’s something
to Q.”

He expelled a heavy sigh and dropped a glance
to the cement deck. “She hasn’t been in the past and I suspect once
the media tires of him, she will too.”

Sydney crossed both arms over her chest.
“That’s an awful thing to say, Clay.” Her focus jumped at a passing
volunteer. A Hispanic male, Clay noted in dismay.

“But it’s the truth. He hitched his chin in
Trish’s direction. “You watch. She’s missed his last three
birthdays. You think she’s going to stick around for the hard work
it takes to get to the next event?” He paused, disgust rolling
through his chest. “She won’t. She’ll come up with some excuse,
just like she always does.”

She shook her head. “The issue remains. We
live in two different states. We have different lives. We’re
kidding ourselves if we think this will turn into anything
different.”

Clay tried to smile. “Have you always been
such a pessimist?”

“I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist. I accept
reality for what it is.”

“Hm.” He lowered his gaze and took her hands
into his. Warm and soft, he gave them a light squeeze and released.
“I’ll accept what you say if you promise me one thing.”

“What?”

Clay lifted his head to face her and inhaled
the sight of her. A man could tell a lot of things about a woman’s
kiss. He could tell if she was engaged in the moment, lukewarm, or
simply going through the motions with mechanical boredom. He could
tell if she liked it as much as he did by the way she responded.
Staring into the depths of Sydney’s eyes, pools filled with emotion
and angst, he knew it meant something to her. She wanted him. He
didn’t care how much she tried to claim otherwise, she felt the
same things he did. Convincing her of as much was proving to be the
challenge. “After closing ceremonies tomorrow night,” he leveled
his gaze, locking her in, “you give me one hour of your time.”

She balked, a sudden flight of nerves
swooping into her voice. “
After
closing ceremonies? But they
won’t end until at least nine-thirty—ten!”

“I know,” he replied calmly, suppressing his
urge to fight. “It will be late. But I can’t do anything tonight
because we’re set to have dinner with Q and his team. We could
change it to lunch tomorrow, if that works better for you.”

“I can’t do lunch tomorrow. I’ll be swamped,
closing out the events with each of the venues.”

“Then tomorrow night it is.”

Sydney seemed on the verge of refusing and he
grabbed hold of her hands again and pressing his thumbs to their
tops. “One hour.”

“Let me think about it.”

She tried to pull her hands from his grip,
but he refused to release her. He glanced at the scoreboard, then
back to her. While he didn’t like the idea of pressuring a woman
into meeting with him, he had little choice in the matter. As it
was, Q’s race was about to begin. “There’s no thinking about it.
Tomorrow night is all we have.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll call your cell and we can meet.” One
last squeeze and he let her go.

Yes, he mused. A man could tell a lot about
his own kiss with a woman, too. Well-versed in the art of
seduction, Clay knew that if he didn’t feel nervous during a first
kiss, it wasn’t going to get any better for him. It was nothing but
lips, mouth and tongue. But with Sydney? A wave of nerves fired
through his midsection, down through his groin. It had been
borderline nerve-racking, much like the thought of never seeing her
again. Pining for a woman, searching for the moment she entered a
room? It wasn’t his style and certainly not good form. But with
Sydney, he had been on high alert for sight of her, drawn to her
the minute she arrived, impatient for her nearness. “Wanna go say
hi to Q before his race, let him know you’re here?”

She sighed. “That was the plan.”

As Sydney followed Clay over to the South
Carolina team, she felt strangely alone. Despite the people milling
about, Clay close by her side, she felt isolated. Adrift. And it
hurt. She didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be part of
something, part of a team—part of Clay and Q’s team. But why did it
have to be tainted? Sydney fought the urge to look in Trish’s
direction, discouraged by the rising tide of jealousy.
Why did
it have to include her
?

“Q,” Clay called out ahead of their
approach.

The boy looked up and his recognition was
instantaneous. Sydney saw that he smiled, but it wasn’t quite as
full as usual and she could tell he was keyed up—as well he should
be. This was a big race for him. Staring down a major volleyball
game, she second-guessed her commitment in the absence of nerves.
You’re not nervous, you don’t want it that bad. She imagined it
couldn’t be much different for others.

“Hey, Q,” she said as they neared, pumping
her smile with encouragement. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” he replied, then glanced away.
Sitting on one end of the metal bench, he fidgeted with the edge of
his towel.

“Your dad tells me you’re racing this
morning.”

He nodded.

“Q is racing today!” a young girl next to him
squealed. “He’s gonna win the gold!”

Q rolled his head, mildly embarrassed by the
vote of confidence.

“That’s what I hear,” Sydney replied, still
unaccustomed to speaking from a distance. But rules were rules.
Athletes there, spectators here.

“I’m going to try,” he said, his speech
marked by an unusually slow, thick cadence.

Sydney was struck by his sudden timidity.
“Remember, Q, it’s what’s up here that counts,” she said and tapped
a finger to her head. His fellow athletes had cued into the
conversation, quiet now and on the edge of their seats. “You’re as
good as any swimmer here. If you believe you can win, then you can
win.”

He looked at her as though he wanted to
believe her, but wasn’t quite sold on the concept.

“I’ve seen you swim. You have the strokes,
you have the count, you have the speed. You have this race. If you
want it, it’s yours.”

A smile crept onto his lips as he peered into
her eyes. “I’m pretty fast.”

She smiled back at him. “You’re very fast.
Very straight. Very fast.”

His smile grew. “I count my strokes.”

“I know you do and that’s all you have to do
today. Count your strokes, stay focused.”

“She’s right, Q.” Clay leaned near her
shoulder. “You’re the best.”

“I’m the best,” he repeated, looking up to
his father.

The girl beside him prattled. “Q’s the best!
Q’s the best!” She bumped bodies with him. “Q’s the best, best,
best
!”

Sydney laughed, the release welcome. “And
look at that—you already have your own fan club!”

Q’s cheeks turned bright red as he swiped his
younger teammate with a hasty glance.

“Q’s the best! Q’s the best!”

Sydney gestured toward his teammate and said,
“No worries, Q. Stay on target and you’ll do great.”

He nodded.

“We’ll be cheering you on, buddy. Just do
your best.”

Q nodded again and this time, Sydney felt
like he was beginning to believe it himself.

“You’ll take the gold, Q,” Sydney added. “I
can feel it in my bones.”

“Do your bones hurt?” the girl asked,
suddenly concerned.

Sydney smiled. The sheer innocence of the
question pulled at her heart. “No, it’s just an expression. A
saying,” she clarified. “It’s something we say when we really feel
sure about something.”

“Oh, good.” She nodded happily and her
concern evaporated.

Sydney suppressed a chuckle. She didn’t want
the girl to think she was laughing at her, when in fact, she found
her refreshing.

“We’re with you, kid.”

Q smiled at his dad.

She and Clay left and walked half the length
of the pool. Standing between the bleacher seating and the pool he
stopped. “How about we watch from here?”

A volunteer scorekeeper dressed in yellow
passed close behind them. Sydney took a step forward to avoid
contact and caught sight of Sam, Vic and the kids near the pool
office. “Oh, Sam is here.” Relief swept through her chest. “I need
to show her where to sit.”

“You’re a slippery one, I’ll give you that,”
he said.

“I’m not trying to be slippery, Clay. She
doesn’t have a clue where she’s going. I need to show her.”

He ushered forth a small smile. “I know. But
remember, I’ll be waiting for you right here.”

Sydney looked at him and knew she wouldn’t be
back. Now that she had her excuse, anyway. No sense in torturing
herself with his nearness in full view of his ex. Forcing herself
not to scan the crowd for her, she replied, “Okay,” then hastened
to meet Sam on the other side of the pool. She hoped she didn’t
wear heels. The deck flooring was overly-wet today. But with finals
going on, the number of people had grown to the largest she’d seen
since the events began.

“Right on cue,” Sam said as she drew near.
“Seeing as how I’m not on VIP status today, I was wondering if
you’d escort us at all.”

“Pipe down. I’m here aren’t I?” She turned to
Sam’s boyfriend and said, “Hello, Vic.”

“Hi, Sydney.” Victor Marin cocked his head
toward Sam and said, “Sorry the Queen over here is driving you
crazy with special requests. If you’ll tell us where to look for
Q’s team, I’ll take it from here.”

The kids giggled and whispered. “Vic called
Sam the queen!”

Sam snorted and Sydney smiled. She enjoyed
watching Vic take the reins away from Sam and apparently the kids
did, too. Usually the woman was like a director filming her own
movie. It was a nice change to see someone else take
over—especially a tall, dark, handsome someone else. At six-four,
Vic towered over both of them and the broad expanse of his chest
only added to his size. Jet black hair and chiseled jaw, he was
built like a block—a well-defined perfectly tapered block. Yet
surprisingly his body was not the work of a gym. Sam claimed it was
simply Mother Nature’s gift to her.

Well, she had to hand it to Sam. She had good
taste. Vic may be the complete opposite of Clay in both coloring
and size, but was equally attractive.

“How about I take you guys over myself,”
Sydney offered.

“You sure?” Vic asked.

“You heard the woman—she’s escorting us
over!” Sam pronounced. Corralling her kids ahead of her, she said,
“C’mon, guys. Follow Sydney.”

Sydney steered clear of Clay and his crew and
led the way high into the bleachers on the opposite end. The higher
they sat, she figured, the better the view. Mounting the stairs,
she could feel the reverberation as the kids pounded up behind
her.

“Slow down, guys. We’re not on a jungle gym!”
Sam dashed an apologetic smile to seated spectators.

“They’re okay, Sam,” Sydney assured. “Most of
the kids I’ve seen around here are pretty high energy. I think
these parents are used to it.” Though Sam was no stranger to kids.
As the oldest of six, she had her fair share of experience with the
feisty tykes. She stopped at the top row and stepped aside. She
extended a hand and said, “Here we are!”