Rules of Contact, Page 2

  He stripped down and headed to the shower, letting the hot steam rain down over him. Damn, that felt good. As he lost himself under the water, he thought about family.

  Yeah, he knew all about family support. The Cassidys were a big family, too. And with Flynn, Barrett and Grant all playing pro football, plus Tucker playing pro baseball, it was one crazy sports-minded family. He had their dad, Easton, to thank for the guys' love of sports. Their younger sister, Mia, was the only one to escape the sports bug. She was the brains of the family.

  He smiled thinking about his sister. He hadn't talked to her in a while. He needed to give her a call and check up on her. As the oldest sibling, he often felt like it was his responsibility to look after the others. Rowdy bunch, all of them.

  Including Mia, though she masked it well with her ambition. But deep down inside her studious nature there lurked a wild Cassidy and he damn well knew it. Which was why he needed to check up on her.

  After he got dressed and went to his car, he voice dialed his sister while he was driving home.

  "Hey, stranger," Mia said.

  "Hey yourself. I haven't talked to you in a while, so I thought I'd see what was up with you."

  "Oh, the usual. Studying for a test right now. How did practice go today?"

  Leave it to his sister to know where all her brothers were on any given day. "Good. We're ready for Detroit on Sunday."

  "Of course you are."

  "How's the workload for your master's program?"

  "Manageable. A lot of reading and ridiculous paperwork, but that's to be expected. I'm working on my thesis now."

  "I'm proud of you." He wasn't sure he'd ever told her that, and for some reason it was important to him to let her know.

  She paused for a few seconds, then said, "Thanks. That means a lot to me coming from my oldest brother. And speaking of, I'm probably going to be out there sometime within the next few weeks. I'm trying to schedule an interview with Stanford."

  "About their PhD program?"

  "Yeah. Can I crash at your place when I come out there?"

  "You know you're welcome anytime. Just let me know."

  "Awesome. I'll be watching you on Sunday. Get some sacks, okay?"

  He laughed. "I'll do my best. Love you, Mia."

  "Love you, too, Flynn. See ya."

  He clicked off, then changed lanes. Not that it did him much good since the freeway was currently a parking lot.

  He tuned the radio to the sports channel and resigned himself to sitting in traffic for a while longer.

  THREE

  A week and a half later, Flynn arrived at the restaurant before it opened. He wanted to go over all the aspects for the team party Thursday night. They were going to close to regular customers, change around the seating and make sure they had adequate staff on hand for serving.

  He met with Amelia, along with Ken, the restaurant's manager, the three of them sitting down at one of the corner tables.

  Amelia looked over her notes. "For hors d'oeuvres, I have bacon-wrapped figs, ahi tuna, avocado and cucumber. I'm also planning crab, chili and mint crostini and goat cheese and herb mini puffs."

  Flynn looked from Amelia to Ken. "Now I'm hungry. I think you should make some of those right now."

  Amelia cracked a smile. "Sorry, no can do. But I do have some buffalo and black bean chili simmering in the back."

  "No wonder we're hungry," Ken said. "I knew something smelled delicious."

  Amelia pushed her chair back. "Give me just a minute and I'll ladle some up for you."

  She disappeared into the kitchen and Flynn turned to Ken. "What else?"

  "I made a chart showing how we'll arrange the tables. I thought we'd set them up along the windows here and here, to allow for viewing, with a few spread out in the middle. We're using the bar tables to give people a place to set down their drinks, but still leave room for people to mingle."

  Flynn nodded while Ken went over the seating. "Great plan. You have all the liquor stocked?"

  "Yes. And extra bartenders and servers will be on hand. We're in good shape."

  He always had confidence in Ken. The guy was a master at managing Ninety-Two. "I knew you would be."

  Amelia returned carrying a tray. She set bowls in front of Flynn and Ken, along with a basket of crackers and bread.

  "None for you?" Flynn asked.

  Amelia took a seat. "I taste while I cook. Trust me, I've had plenty."

  Flynn took the spoon and dug in, letting the spicy chili spark his taste buds as he swallowed. "This is really good."

  "He's right about that," Ken said. "It's going to be a customer favorite, Amelia."

  "Thank you."

  "You should definitely serve it the night of the party," Flynn said. "The guys will love it."

  She shook her head. "Chili is so messy, and a lot of your guests will be wandering about. It's too hard to manage a bowl and slurp up chili while trying to carry on a conversation and walk around. Plus, it goes great with crackers. It's not a good party food."

  "She has a point," Ken said.

  "Yeah, you might be right about that."

  "Though one of the things I wanted to talk to you about was doing a special chili night, especially during happy hour. We could set up a chili station at the bar. I know you have the games on the TV in the bar. I could make up several chilis with the appropriate accouterments and guests could sample the different ones. We could also do it in the restaurant as well. Kind of a chili sampler."

  Flynn thought about it for a minute. "We could offer it on the appetizer menu in the bar and in the restaurant."

  "I like that idea, too," Ken said. "In fact, it would be great to have it on the menu on Sundays during the football games."

  Flynn loved that the people who worked with him had such great ideas. "Perfect. Let's do it."

  Ken nodded. "I'll add it to the menu."

  "And I'll start creating some different chilis," Amelia said. "When do you want to put this into effect?"

  "I'll leave it to you and Ken to work out the details. Whenever you feel it's ready, do it."

  "Great."

  Amelia smiled as she made notes. He liked when she smiled. She was so damn pretty, but always so serious, which he supposed was good for his restaurant. Her focus produced great results, but there was nothing wrong with smiling and being happy about the work you did, either. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard her outright laugh.

  "You should do that more often."

  It took her a second to lift her head. "Me? Do what more often?"

  "Smile."

  Now she frowned. "I smile."

  "No, you don't. You always look like you're in the middle of some horrible midterm exam."

  "I do not."

  Ken stifled a laugh. "Yeah, you kind of do. You're always serious, Amelia."

  "This is my job. I'm very serious about it."

  Flynn pointed to her notebook. "But you smiled when you made notes about the chili."

  "See? I can smile. Therefore your point about me not smiling is moot."

  He rolled his eyes. Sometimes everything with Amelia was an argument. "Okay, so what else should we review before the party Thursday night?"

  "We need an estimated head count," Ken said.

  "I have the RSVP list right here. We just finalized it. I'll e-mail it to you both right now." He forwarded the message from his phone.

  Amelia checked her phone, scanning the list, then looked up at him. "You're bringing a date?"

  He nodded. "Yeah. Why? Is that a problem?"

  Amelia looked over at Ken, then back at him. "No. No problem at all. So who's the new woman in your life?"

  "She's a flight attendant I met on the way back from the game in Detroit."

  "Flight attendant, huh? That's great. Is the press coming to the team party?"

  "They usually attend these kinds of events. Just to get some sound bites and cover the team and the season so far. Plus, Irvin likes anything involving the team to
get press."

  "Sure. Of course. Totally understandable." Amelia quickly focused on the list, but her lips curved.

  For someone who never smiled, she sure was smiling a lot now. So was Ken.

  "What?"

  "Nothing," Amelia said. "I hope you have a great time at the dinner. We'll make sure it's perfect. You should finish your chili before it gets cold. I have to see to dinner."

  But that smile of hers lingered as she got up and left the table. Ken's did, too, as he excused himself. And he'd sure as hell like to know what the two of them found so damned amusing.

  FOUR

  After a long night at the restaurant, Amelia went home, kicked off her shoes, tossed her jacket on the chair next to the front door, piled her purse on top of it and went straight to the kitchen. She pulled a wineglass out of the cabinet and poured herself a nice glass of cabernet, then walked through the kitchen and into the sunroom. It was a little chilly in here, but fortunately there was a heater. She clicked it on, then sat on the sofa. She pulled a blanket over her and reached for her tablet.

  After a few sips of wine she felt the kinks in her muscles start to relax.

  It had been a good night. Working at Ninety-Two was a good fit for her. She liked the people she worked with, and she had creative freedom to express herself through the food she made. All in all, not a bad start to a new beginning in a new city.

  Her phone rang so she pulled it out of her pocket. It was her friend Laura.

  "Hey, what's up?"

  "I was wondering if you were home yet."

  "Just got here. It's late for you. I would have called you but I thought you'd be asleep."

  "No, I switched shifts at the hospital so I'm on until eleven thirty. I just got home. Jon's asleep and I'm wired. Are you crashing or are you up for some company?"

  "I won't go to sleep for a while yet. Come on over."

  "I'll be right there."

  Amelia hung up and smiled, then shrugged the blanket off and went into the cabinet to pull another wineglass down. She loved her rental house. It was older with tons of quirky charm like uneven wooden floors and yet the sunny, large kitchen had been updated with all new, high-end appliances, perfect for her. The house's best feature, though, was its prime location, right down the street from Laura and Jon's house. Since she didn't know anyone else in San Francisco, finding this place had seemed like kismet.

  She went to the door just as Laura rang the bell. She opened it and Laura swooped in, still wearing her scrubs and tennis shoes. Despite having worked a full shift as a nurse, her best friend was still gorgeous. It simply wasn't fair.

  "And how was your day?" she asked.

  "My day was I hope you've opened a bottle of wine," Laura said in response.

  "As a matter of fact, I was sipping on a fabulous cabernet when you called."

  "See, this is why we're friends." Laura made her way down the hall, her dark brown ponytail swinging as she walked.

  Amelia laughed and followed her, glad her friend was comfortable enough to pour herself a glass of wine.

  "Are we on the porch?" Laura asked.

  "Yes. The heater's on. Grab yourself a spot and a blanket. I'm going to go change into something more comfortable, and I'll be right there."

  Amelia dashed upstairs and changed out of her work clothes and into yoga pants and a long-sleeved cotton shirt, then slid into her favorite pair of slippers. She found Laura on the wicker chair, a fleece blanket covering her legs.

  October in San Francisco could be cool, but the porch was closed in and with the heater on it was very comfortable.

  "Tell me about your day," Amelia said.

  "Two car accidents, one drug overdose, a ruptured appendix, a broken finger and one surly drunk who threw up all over one of the other nurses."

  Amelia grimaced as she tossed one of the blankets over herself. "Well, at least the drunk didn't throw up on you."

  Laura raised her glass of wine. "Small favors."

  "Look at it this way. At least you're not bored. Isn't that why you went into nursing?"

  "True. I can't believe I started my freshman year of college thinking I wanted to become a CPA."

  Amelia smiled as she remembered their first year together. "You did always score high in the math classes."

  "Math always came easy to me. But I was following in my mother's footsteps. She was the finance whiz. Midway through the first semester I knew I'd die a slow, agonizing death in finance."

  "Plus you were so good with people. And you knew you loved medicine."

  Laura leaned back and propped her tennis-shoed feet on the old, scarred coffee table Amelia had picked up at the flea market the first weekend she'd come to town. "True. I'd have made a kickass doctor. It was just all those years of medical school--"

  "And all that debt."

  Laura laughed. "Yes, all that debt--that kept me from realizing that dream."

  "You could still go to medical school if you wanted to."

  "I don't want to. I'm happy being a nurse. It fulfills me."

  "Then you're right where you need to be."

  "As are you. I've never known anyone who loves what they do more than you. And God knows you kept the entire dorm fed the first year. I was the only one smart enough to become your best friend, thereby ensuring I'd eat well through college."

  Amelia laughed. "See? You're good at math, an angel of mercy and insightful as well."

  "I'm practically perfect. And so are you."

  "Is that what we're doing tonight? Talking about our perfection?"

  Laura swirled her wine around in the glass. "Not a bad way to spend the evening. But you could tell me about your night. Was it busy?"

  "Not too bad. Ninety-Two has been bringing in a lot of patrons since we opened. I'm happy about that."

  "I'm sure you are."

  "And I met with Ken and Flynn before opening today. Flynn is having a team party there later this week."

  Laura set her glass down. "The Sabers are all going to be there? Oooh. All those hot football players."

  Amelia shrugged and took a sip of her wine. "Which means a lot more to you than it does to me."

  "Bullshit. You love football."

  "I do love football. I'm just not a football player groupie."

  "Granted. Still, all those hot men assembled in one room. So many of them single. You could have your choice."

  Amelia picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. She'd already had what she thought was a great guy. And she'd been wrong. The last thing she wanted was to go down that road again. "No, thanks."

  "Oh, come on, Amelia. It's time to get back in the game."

  Amelia frowned. "The football game?"

  "No, doofus. The dating game."

  Amelia shook her head. "I'm not ready yet."

  "It's been over a year since your divorce. Have you dated even once since then?"

  "Actually, I have. I went out on a date before I moved from Portland."

  Laura's eyes widened. "You did? How come this is the first I've heard about it?"

  "Because it was uneventful. Someone at the restaurant set me up with some friend of her husband's."

  "And?"

  "And he was kind of awful. We went to dinner and he complained about the food as if he was some kind of culinary expert, when the guy couldn't tell the difference between cuts of steak if they slapped him between the eyes. Then we went to a movie and he talked through the whole thing. Then he drove me home and tried to go in for a kiss when it was obvious there was zero chemistry between us."

  Laura wrinkled her nose. "Yuck."

  "Exactly. As soon as the date was over I promptly forgot about him."

  "Can't say I blame you for that. But one date failure doesn't mean there aren't amazing men out there. It's time to dip your toes in the water again."

  Amelia waved her hand in dismissal. "Honestly, I'm not interested. I have the new job, which is keeping me busy enough at work, and other things to occupy my time when I'm
not at work."

  "What other things?"

  "The cookbook."

  "Oh, right. That's an awesome thing, that cookbook you're writing, and you know I hope you're super successful. But, honey, you can't have sex with a cookbook."

  Amelia nearly choked on her sip of wine. "What?"

  "You heard me. It's time for you to get out there and get laid. Time to quit mourning the death of your marriage. Life shouldn't stop just because one man broke your heart."

  She lifted her chin. "I'm not in mourning."

  Laura shot her a look. "Aren't you?"

  Leave it to Laura to tell her things she didn't want to hear. "Okay, maybe I have been. Aren't I entitled?"

  Laura shifted, grabbing the bottle of wine to refill her glass before leaning back against the sofa. "Hell yes you were entitled. That asshole hurt you. He made promises he didn't keep. You were entitled to wallow for a long time. But now it's been long enough, don't you think?"

  "You might be right."

  Laura's lips lifted. "Of course I am. Remember that guy you dated in college? What was his name? Carey? He played violin and you were so sucked in by his musicality."

  She finally relaxed against the sofa, glass in her hand. "Oh, my God, yes. Carey. I haven't thought about him in years. I fell madly in love with his magical fingers."

  Laura rolled her eyes. "Right. You waxed poetic about his hands and his talents and he cast this musical spell over you. He'd put you off and tell you he had hours of practice and you waited ever so patiently for him. And then you found out he was sleeping with the dean of music."

  "The bastard." She took a sip of wine.

  "Let's not forget the Alpha Tau Omega guy."

  She wrinkled her nose. "Oh. Frat Guy. You had to admit, though, the beer parties were amusing."

  "Honey, that one spelled disaster from the first date. I warned you about him."

  "I was on the rebound from Carey."

  "Please. I'm amazed you didn't end up with an STD. He was such a horndog."

  "True. But you can't deny the parties were a blast while they lasted."

  "I'll give you that. But I'm always right about men. At least I was during college."

  "You were." She smiled at Laura, remembering all the time the two of them spent together in college. Laura, full of life and adventure, always willing to pick herself up after heartbreak and go after her dreams. Laura was never one to give up, and Amelia had learned a lot of her own willingness to go after her dreams from her best friend. When she'd arrived at college as a freshman she'd been shy and withdrawn. She had Laura to thank for pulling her out of her shell, making her attend social events. Maybe that's why she'd gone out on so many dates. At first she'd been reticent, determined to do nothing but study.