Rules of Contact, Page 3

  That hadn't lasted long.

  God, they'd had a good time together. And they'd stayed friends all these years. She couldn't imagine life without Laura. And now they were neighbors.

  Sometimes life worked out perfectly.

  And sometimes it didn't. Too bad Laura hadn't been around to warn her away from Frank. What might her life have been like if Laura had met Frank at the beginning? Would her best friend's "wrong guy" radar have pinged, thereby saving her years of heartbreak?

  Who knew? Either way, she couldn't go back and change the past now. She could only learn from it and move on.

  "So you'll at least think about ogling the hot football players at the party?"

  Amelia lifted her gaze, shaking off thoughts of her ex-husband, putting her mind firmly in the present, where it belonged. "Yes. I'll ogle the football players."

  Laura grinned and tilted her glass toward Amelia's. "That's my girl."

  FIVE

  After practice Thursday, Flynn hustled out of the stadium and headed straight for the restaurant.

  He wasn't surprised at all that Ken and Amelia had everything in order. Staff was already there, tables had been moved, linens were spread out and the settings were in place.

  He wasn't a fancy kind of guy. If you came to his house to hang out or watch sports, he'd cook. He wouldn't set out paper plates, but he sure as hell wouldn't fuss, either.

  But this was Ninety-Two. This was his dream come true, and it was important to him. Irvin Stokes, the team owner, would be here tonight, as would most of the members of the Sabers. These were his peers. His friends. Having tonight be a success meant something to him.

  "Oh, you're here, good," Ken said, grasping the sleeve of his shirt and pulling him into the kitchen. "You have got to taste the stuff Amelia and her crew have cooked up. Though she'll probably kick my butt for entering her territory."

  "Then why are we going into the kitchen?"

  "Because the smells are delicious, I'm hungry and you're the boss. She couldn't possibly say no to you."

  Flynn cocked a brow. "Wanna bet?"

  He'd been on the other side of Amelia's temper before. She was an amazing cook, but she'd made it very clear before he hired her that in the kitchen, she was the boss.

  So when he and Ken walked in, she pointed to the doorway as soon as she spotted them.

  "Both of you--out--right now."

  "Oh, come on, Amelia," Ken said. "Just a sample. You know how I feel about bacon."

  She gave Ken a firm shake of her head. "When they're ready, you can have some. Until then, get out of my way."

  "I told you." Flynn held open the door for Ken. After Ken turned to leave, Flynn looked at Amelia, who glared at them with her arms folded. She looked like a Viking warrior defending her castle. Tall, blond and imposing.

  And a little bit hot. There was nothing like a woman taking total charge of her turf. And this kitchen was Amelia's turf.

  "You are so mean," he said to her, but his lips quirked.

  "Get out, Flynn," she said, but her lips curved in a hint of a smile.

  A sign that things were going well in the kitchen, which relieved some of his tension about the evening.

  He went over the checklist with Ken, who had everything well in hand. Which was why he'd hired Ken in the first place.

  "Your organizational skills are on point, as usual, Ken." He handed the notebook back to the manager, who bustled off to attend to the staff, leaving Flynn with nothing to do.

  If Amelia let him in her kitchen he could help her. But he knew better than to go in there again, so he did what he could to assist the staff with their final prep. Once they were finished, though, there was nothing to do but wait. Ken told the staff to take a break before the party started. And Flynn headed home to change clothes and pick up his date. By the time he got back, the team should be arriving.

  He hoped like hell tonight went well.

  *

  The party had started and Amelia was pleased so far. The food was made and her staff had everything under control. The one thing she prided herself on was a well-run kitchen, and this one was.

  She removed her apron and dashed into the restroom off the kitchen to check her appearance. She undid her ponytail and brushed her hair, applied some lip gloss and straightened her blouse, deciding it wouldn't be a bad idea to take a walk around the room to be sure the guests were enjoying the food. She knew how to do it surreptitiously, hanging back to be sure she wasn't noticed.

  When she stepped out, the first thing she noticed was how big all the guys were. Not surprising considering this was a football team. Not your average men. Plenty of women in attendance as well, which was a good thing.

  She grabbed a glass of wine from the bar and wandered the room. Many people were holding a full plate, which was a good sign. As a chef, there was nothing worse than people ignoring your food. Her team was refilling the serving stations and people were still eating. She was satisfied that the food was good. She'd tasted everything and approved it. Still, it was satisfying to see people appreciating it.

  She found a nice spot in a dark corner and sipped her wine.

  "Are you hiding?"

  A beautiful, blond-haired woman found her. She smiled at her. "No, just surveying."

  "Are you here with someone and avoiding them, or just avoiding the crowds in general? Because if it's the latter, I can totally understand it. These things can be overwhelming. Football players are nothing if not loud and gregarious."

  Amelia laughed and held out her hand. "I'm Amelia Lawrence, head chef of Ninety-Two."

  The woman's eyes sparked recognition. "Oh. I'm Tara Riley. It's so nice to meet you, Amelia."

  "Thank you, Tara. Likewise. Are you here with someone?"

  "Yes. I'm married to Mick Riley."

  Amelia nodded. "Quarterback of the Sabers. I know him well. I mean, I don't know him at all. I've never met him, but I'm a huge fan of your husband--the entire team, actually. And now my tongue is falling all over itself. How embarrassing."

  Tara laughed. "Don't be embarrassed. Let's sit down." Tara motioned to the table in front of them.

  Amelia gazed around the room. "I should get back to the kitchen."

  "From the looks of things, your kitchen is a well-oiled machine, Amelia. Take a minute and get off your feet."

  "All right."

  She took a seat, doing her best to hide her sigh of relief. It felt good to relax her tight back muscles. She was used to being on her feet all day. She'd been doing it for years. But on occasion, the tension in her lower back took its toll.

  "I own an event planning company," Tara said. "And I have to tell you, over the years I've tried out many catering companies, and even hired private restaurants to cater events for me. So, I'd like to think I have a fairly sophisticated palate. I have to tell you that your cooking is beyond excellent."

  Amelia beamed a smile. "Thank you. What company?"

  "It's called The Right Touch. We have an office here in San Francisco, and another in St. Louis. We're also going to branch out to the East Coast by the end of the year."

  "Event planning. How exciting. And you're expanding, too. You'll be nationwide."

  Tara laughed. "Well, sort of. I've wanted to do an East Coast expansion for a while, but I had another baby four years ago and he's kept me pretty busy."

  "Oh, you have a son. That's wonderful."

  "Two sons, actually. Though my oldest is in college. I kind of took a long break in between the two of them."

  Amelia blinked. "I can't even imagine how difficult that must have been for you to start over again."

  "It's been an experience, for sure. I had forgotten so much about what it was like to have a baby--and then a toddler. It's a lot harder once you're older, too." Tara laughed. "But Sam's four and in preschool now and at such a fun age. Plus, he loves his daddy and all things football."

  "That must be fun for all of you."

  "It is. Nathan's a senior this year at
the University of Texas. He's the quarterback there, so following in his dad's footsteps as well."

  Amelia leaned back in her chair, swirling the wine around in her glass. "Wow. Building a mini football dynasty, aren't you?"

  "Mick would like to think so. He's proud of both the boys. And what about you, Amelia? Do you have any small cooks in your family?"

  She shook her head. "Recently divorced. No kids. I moved here from Portland to take this job."

  "I'm sorry about the divorce. I know how difficult it is when a relationship doesn't work out. But I'm sure Flynn is happy to have you working here."

  Amelia appreciated that Tara didn't ask her any probing questions about her divorce. "I love working here. It's a wonderful environment and Flynn has given me a lot of freedom to do what I want as far as the menu. Within reason."

  Tara's lips curved. "I know Flynn loves to cook, so I'm sure he has some ideas of his own."

  "He does. Fortunately, they're all good ideas."

  "Aha. I have it on record now that you think my ideas are good."

  Amelia looked up to see Flynn and a spectacularly good-looking Mick Riley standing at their table. She'd only seen Mick on TV--both playing football and in the endorsements he did. The man was a work of art. But in person? He was so much better looking with his black hair and searing blue eyes. He was supremely tall and wow, what a chiseled body.

  Tara was one lucky woman.

  "Amelia, this is my husband, Mick. Mick, this is Amelia Lawrence. She's the head chef here at Ninety-Two."

  Mick held out his hand. "Very nice to meet you, Amelia. The food here is great. I've already eaten way more of it than I should have."

  She blushed under his compliment. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mick. I'm a big fan. And I'm glad you're enjoying the food." She pushed back her chair. "I should go back and check on the kitchen."

  Flynn laid his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Stay. The kitchen's under control. While you were out here I took a peek."

  She arched a brow. "You did, did you?"

  "Yes. No one was in there to throw anything at me."

  Tara stifled a chuckle.

  Flynn and Mick took a seat.

  "Where's your date, Flynn?" Amelia asked.

  "She's in the ladies' room. She should be out in a second."

  Amelia hadn't noticed her. Or Flynn, for that matter. Then again, there were a lot of people in the restaurant, and she'd mainly been focusing on who had plates filled with food, so it wasn't like she'd been searching him out.

  "There you are."

  The guys stood when an amazing-looking woman came over. She was slender, with chin-length dark brown hair and an incredible body. Amelia could see why Flynn would be attracted to her. She had a gorgeous smile, perfect teeth and beautiful brown eyes.

  The woman reached across the table and held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Jameson."

  Intriguing name. Amelia shook her hand and introduced herself, as did Tara and Mick.

  "I'm with him," Tara said with a grin.

  "Oh, I know you both. Doesn't everyone?"

  Mick laughed. "Well, I don't know about everyone, but thanks."

  "And which one of these guys are you with, Amelia?" Jameson asked.

  "I'm actually the head chef here."

  "Oh, I love the food. It's all fantastic."

  "Thank you." So far, so good. She was nice and friendly and seemed to be content to stick right next to Flynn. Of course the camera crews hadn't arrived yet, but she was inclined to give Jameson the benefit of the doubt.

  After a few minutes of chitchat, Amelia excused herself to go check on the kitchen.

  "You need to come back out here when you're done," Flynn said, walking with her toward the kitchen.

  She paused. "It's not my job to be the face of the restaurant. It's yours and Ken's."

  He looked at her. "But I'm asking you to. I'd like everyone to meet you. They're all raving about the food."

  "You can take credit for it."

  He laughed. "I didn't design or prepare the dishes. You did."

  "All right."

  "Great. And thanks."

  It was a mystery to her why he wanted her out here when this was his party with his teammates, but he was the boss. She went into the kitchen to make sure everything was running smoothly. Inventory was fine, and she reviewed each station. Her staff was top-notch. They really didn't need her assistance, but she wanted them to know she was involved and paying attention and there to help troubleshoot if necessary. Luckily, there were no fires to put out, literally or metaphorically. And once she knew everything was in order, she returned to the party.

  The foursome table had broken up, and she didn't see Flynn, so she was free to wander the room. She went to the bar and retrieved another glass of wine, then headed over to Ken.

  "How's everyone doing?" she asked.

  "Good. The guests all seem to be having a great time and the serving stations are busy. Everyone loves the food. Which, of course, they should. It's excellent."

  "Thank you. Big crowd."

  "It's about to be even bigger." Ken inclined his head toward the front door. "Media just arrived. I'm going to go grab Flynn."

  "Okay."

  She retreated to one of the corners to watch as Ken and Flynn met the media. She also noticed that Jameson had moved to the side, out of range of the cameras, and was talking to some of the players' wives.

  She had high hopes for this woman. Maybe she'd be a good fit for Flynn.

  The lights went on and the cameras started rolling. Flynn began to talk and gesture about the restaurant. Amelia was happy to see him get this amount of press for Ninety-Two. It promised to bring in more customers. The cameras panned around the room and a few of the players stepped up for interviews.

  Flynn stepped out and made his way to Jameson, who put her arm around him. When the cameras made their way back to them, it was like she'd undergone a personality transplant. Her head snapped up, she plastered on a wide smile, and she was suddenly "on," flashing her pearly whites and totally ignoring Flynn.

  Oh, no. Not again.

  It was as if she was the only one on camera, and as the journalist interviewed her, Flynn stepped away.

  But Jameson didn't stop. She kept talking, completely oblivious to Flynn, who had gone to join some of his friends.

  "What's that all about?" Tara asked, coming up alongside Amelia.

  "I had such high hopes for Jameson. I thought she'd be different."

  Tara frowned. "Different?"

  "Flynn has a tendency to choose all the wrong women. You know the types--the ones who are after a football player only to get their time in front of a camera."

  Tara pursed her lips. "Oh. I know exactly what you're talking about. And unfortunately they're all too frequent in the sport. You'd think women like that would come with a warning label."

  "You'd think. But Flynn's like a magnet for them. I've seen him with no less than three camera whores over the past few months."

  "That's unfortunate. And he's such a nice guy, too."

  "I know. I really wish he could find the right woman."

  Tara glared at Jameson, then looked over at Amelia. "I know a lot of nice women."

  "Do you? Maybe you could set him up with one."

  "I could maybe do that. Or how about you, Amelia?"

  Amelia searched the room for Flynn, found him talking with Ken. "No, I don't really know a lot of people here."

  "No, honey. I meant you."

  She stared at Tara. "Me? And Flynn? I don't think so."

  "Why not? You're beautiful. He's gorgeous. You share a mutual love of food. You're obviously hiding in the corner because you don't want to be on camera. You'd be perfect for him."

  There was no doubt she was attracted to Flynn. But the last thing she needed in her life right now was a man. Especially not a man she worked for. "No, I don't think so."

  "You don't find him attractive?"

  She could barely pull her ga
ze away from him. Despite being surrounded by a group of incredibly good-looking men, he stood out. "Oh, I find him attractive. But he's my boss."

  Tara shrugged. "So what?"

  She pulled her attention from Flynn and directed it on Tara. "That's a big deal. I moved here specifically for this job. I don't need to lose it because a relationship, or love affair, goes bad."

  "Okay, I see your point. Still, I think the idea of the two of you together has merit. I know you and I just met, but I can see you and Flynn together. You could fit."

  She hadn't thought of it. Sure, she had a physical attraction to Flynn. What heterosexual woman wouldn't? He was hot stuff. But she wasn't looking for a relationship. Or a lover. But now both Tara and her best friend had mentioned something about her getting out there and dating.

  Maybe it was time. She'd have to think about it. But she wouldn't think about it with Flynn. He was off-limits.

  She made her way back into the kitchen and worked, content to stay away from the cameras. Hours later, the party started to die down, so she helped with cleanup and then sent her staff home. When she came out front, most everyone had left with the exception of Flynn and Ken, who were sitting with Mick and Tara at one of the larger tables.

  "Hey, Amelia," Flynn said. "Come have a drink with us."

  She headed over and Flynn got up to pull a glass from behind the bar. "What would you like?" he asked.

  "A glass of pinot gris would be great."

  He grabbed the bottle, uncorked it, then poured her a very large glass before handing it to her. "Thanks for tonight. If I haven't mentioned it before, the food was outstanding. Everyone raved about it."

  "Thank you. I thought it all turned out well. You had a great showing."

  "My boss was impressed with the restaurant. And the food. Irvin loves good food and he couldn't speak highly enough about yours. And trust me, he's well traveled, has eaten in some of the best restaurants in the world. He's not often awestruck."

  She took that as the compliment it was intended to be. "Thank you for that."

  They made their way over to the table and she took a seat.

  "I hope you all had a good time tonight."

  Tara looked as fresh this late as she had when Amelia saw her earlier. "I had such a great night. We're kid-free for this trip, so I get to stay out late. Our son Sam is back in St. Louis with his grandparents."