The Set Piece Page 5

  A sharp knock at the door disturbed her thoughts.

  “Who is it?” Amy asked.

  “Casey. Sorry to bother you.”

  Amy froze then quickly fluffed up her hair and pinched her sallow cheeks in the mirror. She hesitated. What was wrong with her? She was having the fake relationship with Diego, not Casey.

  When she answered the door, she couldn’t even look Casey in the eyes. Her gaze fell away to the lean, hard body. Casey had changed into an Atoms T-shirt, shorts, and black and purple flip flops. A delicate soccer ball tattoo rode her left ankle. Amy’s eyes lingered on the design for a long moment. Sexy.

  “Here.”

  Amy looked up to catch the single sheet of white paper Casey thrust out to her.

  “Knight wanted me to give you Diego’s schedule for tomorrow. There’s a photo shoot for Adidas in the morning, and a televised publicity event at the park in the afternoon. There will be press cameras at the park, if that makes a difference to you.”

  “Should it?” She met a cold, hard stare. A jolt ran through her body. What had happened by the pool was happening again up here. It was inexplicable. Her body was reacting in a way that her mind couldn’t stop.

  “I thought you might want to dress for the photo op. Diego will be in his Adidas stuff, of course, but you can come however you want.” Casey’s eyes narrowed slightly, making Amy feel like an ant at a picnic.

  “Okay. Thanks.” They stood awkwardly in the doorway and regarded each other in silence.

  “Look, if you give me your information, I can just text you the schedule next time,” Casey said. “That way I won’t have to bother you in person.”

  “Sure. That works for me.” I’m a liar on all fronts now. That zap of lust, guilt, confusion, whatever it was, left her tingling all over. It was vaguely uncomfortable. It was also the first time she had felt something really physical for over two years.

  Casey swiped open her cell phone and handed it to Amy who quickly entered her contact information.

  “Hey, you two.” Diego in all his casual glory strode along the hall. Dulce trotted along at his heels. His smile shifted ever so slightly as he met them in the doorway.

  Amy’s brow furrowed. Their first meeting in their new home was about to be witnessed by his PA. They were unrehearsed, and unless they got really lucky, a lot could go wrong. Amy struggled for the right words. “You scored. I saw the goal. It was great!”

  Diego’s shoulders visibly relaxed. Soccer was the perfect subject. They could both be enthusiastic about it, and maybe fool Casey into thinking that they were being enthusiastic about each other.

  “It was a garbage goal. I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time. But I’ll take anything right now. It’s so good to see you, here.” He swept past Casey to take Amy in his arms. He gave her a delicate hug picking her up and cradling her for a moment. He dipped his head down to hers to whisper softly in a voice only she could hear. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  He dropped her back to her toes and planted a kiss that was more noise than touch on her lips.

  Amy grinned. Who knew Diego would be so good at this? A lifetime of hiding his sexual identity would make anyone an expert actor, she guessed.

  “It was a good goal, Diego. It’s all about positioning,” Casey said, as soon as they broke from each other.

  Amy noticed that her face softened as she looked at him. What was it Tammy had said? Something about liking him too much?

  He slung an arm around Casey and gave her a quick side hug. “I don’t care what kind of goal it was as long as it gets the reporters off my back. That’s all I really need right now.” He swept them into the apartment. Dulce nipped playfully at Amy’s feet as they moved. “You settling in all right? Have everything you need?”

  “I do. It’s wonderful. And so is this little one.” She bent down to pick up the wriggling dog.

  “She’s a very good judge of character. So I’m happy to see she adores you. Just like me.” Diego stroked Dulce as she snuggled into Amy’s arms.

  “I’ll let you two have some privacy,” Casey said in a voice a little too loud. She moved back to the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

  Diego jumped back a step as he put a finger up to his lips. He silently mouthed counting to ten and then broke out into a shy smile. “That was good!”

  “Oh my God.” Amy giggled. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  “I know. I thought it might be over before we started. Casey’s pretty shrewd. Talking about the goal was a stroke of brilliance.”

  “You picked up the lead. I think this fake relationship might really go the distance.”

  He grinned at her. “Well, right now the only distance I want to travel is to the backyard. Tammy’s set out dinner for us. You ready to eat?”

  “Sure, that sounds great.” Their first dinner together. Amy’s heart raced as if it were a real date. Obviously nothing romantic would come of it, but the evening would set the tone for their entire relationship. It was off to a great start. Now she had to make sure it stayed there. She eased Dulce from her arms and followed Diego downstairs.

  A romantic dinner for two graced one of the patios. Two plates of grilled chicken breast with sides of zucchini and carrots sat on a small bistro-style table, complete with lit candles. Spray mist cooled the air, taking the heat in the patio area down from unbearable to balmy.

  “It’s not just sugar I avoid, I try to eat healthy at all times,” Diego said, almost apologizing for the food. Tammy came out with sparkling water in a wine cooler which she placed on the table. “As you know, of course,” he added.

  “I do. Remember when the server didn’t believe that you had ordered the salad and not me?” She turned her attention to Tammy. “I had to reach for the hamburger off his plate, before the server realized we weren’t joking. It looks great, Tammy.”

  “I know what he likes to eat. He’s my boy.”

  “Good cover,” Diego said softly, as Tammy returned to the kitchen.

  “I think it’ll get it easier to keep up the charade as we go along,” Amy said, as she watched Tammy take up sentry at the kitchen window to keep an eye on them. Then she dropped her gaze to the beautifully plated meal. Far better than the prawn-flavored chips she and Simon used to steal from Reggie’s for dinner.

  “I hope so. I need to start playing better. Get my stats up. This has been a really difficult spell for me.”

  “You could change that. You could come out. It might help.” She said the words before she realized how very stupid they were. “Sorry!” Her face went red. It wasn’t as if that solution was even revolutionary. Obviously, he would have considered and dismissed that scenario long before Knight found him a beard. “I’m talking myself out of a good gig.” She tried to lighten her gaff.

  “It’s okay. If this is going to work, at least you and I have to be honest with each other.”

  She studied Diego. He was right. They had to keep their relationship as authentic and as candid as this bizarre situation would allow. But did he mean it? They had grown closer since their first meeting at Knight’s house. Even though little alarm bells rang in her head, she decided to take a chance. “Okay, so why don’t you?”

  “I just can’t,” Diego said, sighing. He seemed relieved to talk about it, but still he spun the dial on his expensive diver’s watch as his gaze drifted away from her eyes. “I mean I’ve thought about it, of course. There’s times that I would like nothing better. But I take care of my entire family. Financially, I mean, through all these damn endorsement deals. It’s about so much more than me.”

  “But professional athletes are coming out these days.” She pushed the conversation right to the edge. Why couldn’t she just shut up? Everything had been going so well, and now she might get fired before the meal was over. She put a piece of chicken smothered in creamy mustard sau
ce into her mouth so she couldn’t speak anymore.

  “Some are. Mostly after their careers are over. Very few are coming out before they’re superstars. That college basketball player, for example. He came out right after he graduated and dropped at least three rounds in the draft because of it, or so some people said.”

  “True.”

  “Besides, if I was white, it might be different. But I’m the face of Hispanic advertising. Latinos and Latinas want to connect with brands that embrace their culture. For better and for worse, I’m that brand. And there’s the problem. I need to connect to both the traditionalists and the second generation-plus. At least that’s what they tell me.”

  “Sorry?”

  “It’s two completely different demographics. Traditionalists are immigrants who arrive here with all of their ideas shaped by the culture of Mexico. The rest of us are second, third, and fourth generations. We’re more American in our likes and dislikes.” His tone was sure, but he spun the dial on his watch like a top. “You see. I’m hip, I speak English as well as any native.” He grinned ruefully.

  “Better.” Amy finally found a word that didn’t flirt with trouble.

  “Thanks. So far my endorsement deals are only with the brands that do well with Hispanics. I need a Nike, or Gatorade, or Levi to be really safe.”

  “And your fans? They wouldn’t support you?”

  “Are you kidding me? For Christ’s sake, Mexican fans chant puto, or faggot, at games when a player makes a bad move. And FIFA’s not doing anything about it. They say it’s not discriminatory in this particular context.”

  His words hung in the air between them. It sounded to Amy that, despite what Knight thought, Diego had a handle on more than looking like a movie star and producing on the field. “So you’re stuck in this and all sorts of other lies?”

  “That’s about the size of it. It would be nice if all this were about playing soccer, which I love. But I haven’t had that feeling about soccer since high school.”

  The swooshing as the patio door opened brought the conversation to an end. Tammy produced the dessert, sweet summer strawberries with whipped cream.

  “Ah, my favorite,” Diego said, grabbing a bright red strawberry.

  “Well, I knew you weren’t going to eat much with the photo shoot tomorrow.” Tammy picked up his half-eaten plate of food. “Shirt off, I gather?”

  “No, but it’s skin-tight. And I wasn’t being vain.” He laughed. “I was talking too much.” He threw a shy glance at Amy.

  They waited while Tammy cleared the plates and left. Then when she reappeared at the kitchen window, Diego put his hand on Amy’s. From inside they would look like any couple courting. Strategy had always been Diego’s strong suit, on and off the field.

  “This evening went better than I hoped. I like the fact that there’s someone in my life that I don’t have to pretend with.” He considered her for a moment. “You don’t have to come tomorrow, but I think I would like to have you there anyway. Is that weird?”

  “Then I’ll be there.”

  Diego grinned his thousand-watt smile.

  Amy realized she was invested in this job more than she thought she could be. The big bonus being that if she played her cards right she might never have to say, “Next guest in line, please,” ever again.

  It was the picture-perfect ending to the fake date. She hadn’t gotten fired, the conversation was interesting, the chicken tasted far better than prawn potato chips, and Diego and she might actually be on the way to becoming friends. What was she worried about? She could totally do this.

  CHAPTER 4

  The tension started almost immediately the next morning. Adidas sent a town car to take them to the photo shoot. Diego, Casey, and Amy piled into the backseat. Casey slid in first; then Diego helped Amy inside, but it became clear the three of them couldn’t all fit comfortably. They were crammed in like sardines, and Amy’s left leg, from hip to knee, rode Casey’s thigh next to her. It felt firm and warm under the thin material of her linen pants, and Amy tried to shut out that awareness. But she made no move to ease the pressure.

  “I’ll get in front,” Casey said quickly, and slid out her door, taking a place with the driver up front. She let her back fall heavily against the seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “This is better. Shall we go?”

  Amy took it all in. She would have to be careful about Casey. She had literally just taken her spot in the backseat and pushed her up with the “help.” Who could feel good about that? But that wasn’t the only thing she’d have to be careful of. Amy slid her hand down the empty space where Casey’s leg had been seconds before. She could still feel the heat where their bodies had touched.

  Luckily, Diego gave an interview on his cellphone for the rest of the drive, and nobody had to make small talk. Amy couldn’t hear the questions the reporter posed, but Diego’s answers were perfect.

  “Sometimes you go through a spell where you don’t score. Soccer’s just like that. Every sport is, I guess.” He sounded calm, but his foot tapped restlessly on the floor of the car. “No, I don’t credit Amy. I mean, she’s great and all that.” He smiled at her. “But I’m the same player that I was before I met her. That’s just how the game is. You can’t chase it. If you’re not doing well individually, then you got to find other ways to contribute. In the end, it’s about the team, not the individual.”

  Amy stopped listening when she realized that she’d been staring at the back of Casey’s neck the whole time. Now she really took it in. Slender, strong, touchable.

  She turned away and looked pensively out the window. As Diego had said, it was all about the team, and she was part of team Diego now. That meant there was no place for all these dangerous feelings that were starting to bubble up inside her.

  The tension continued to escalate as soon as they walked into the studio. The Adidas advertising executives, Paul Knight, and Lucy Lewitt, Diego’s publicist, descended like vultures. Each one reached out to pull Diego into a corner for a private conversation. When they couldn’t all grab him at once, they turned their talons on Casey. “Could you please,” started every demand. The words shot at Casey as if they were pecking at her. In response, she flew around the studio ordering coffee, changing schedules, calling people to the set—all menial tasks they could have easily performed themselves. It was a pissing contest to see who had the most power in their little group, and Casey was their battlefield.

  Diego was oblivious to it all. He threw Amy an air kiss as someone from Adidas took him into a dressing room to change for the shoot.

  Amy caught the air kiss in her outstretched fist and brought it up to her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Knight nodding ever so slightly to himself. Then she noticed a pretty young intern give Diego a hungry look and her a spiteful one. All good.

  Lucy Lewitt sidled up to Amy and put a dainty hand on her shoulder. “You’re good for him.” Lucy’s voice was surprisingly childlike.

  “And he’s good for me.”

  Lucy smiled and continued, “We should get some shots of you two today for the Twitter feed. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Great. Casey?”

  On the other side of the set, Casey turned to her with a withering look that was lost on Lucy.

  “Could you please get the Adidas people to get Amy some gear? One of those aerodynamic tops that Diego is changing into, I think.” She dismissed Casey with a wave of her hand.

  “I can do that,” Amy said quickly. Her developing feelings for Casey aside, she didn’t like the way that Lucy was treating her. It reeked too much of the Reggie treatment, which she hoped she had left behind her in the Valley Arms.

  “Don’t be silly, dear. That’s her job.”

  “I’m pretty sure it isn’t.”

  “Of course it is.” Lucy laughed as if Amy were crazy.


  Amy scanned the room. She had no idea who to approach for the clothes and so in the end had to go to Casey, herself. She touched her lightly on her arm.

  “Sorry, but who do I ask?”

  Casey sighed. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.” Her tone could cut glass.

  “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me. I’ve been there.” Finally, she said something that wasn’t a lie. “Just because you work for someone, or in this case don’t work for them, doesn’t make them better than you.” Amy looked into Casey’s eyes. No thawing.

  Casey did check out the room, however. “Francine? Sorry to bother you. Do we have any of those Adidas tops that Diego is wearing that would fit her?” She pointed at Amy.

  Her? How hard would it have been to use my name? Same amount of letters and all.

  A heavyset woman tugged at the measuring tape around her neck and pursed her lips. “Hmm, let me call over to wardrobe?”

  “Thank you, Francine.” Casey inclined her head to the woman, who smiled back at her.

  “Thanks, Casey,” Amy added, noting that the Adidas team seemed to really like her.

  When Diego came back from the make-up chair, all heads, including Amy’s, turned in his direction.

  “Ta-da!” He threw his arms up high over his head in his excitement. The skin-tight Adidas workout shirt and compression shorts hugged his body and showed off the long, lean muscles of an incredibly fit soccer player. Francine waddled over to Diego to tie off the shirt in the back to make it even tighter. Washboard abs leaped to life under the material, and the young intern giggled with appreciation.

  “Too tight? Can you move?” Francine asked and ran her hand all the way around Diego’s waist.

  “Barely. But I’m good.”

  Francine touched him a few more times, and Amy got the feeling that she was enjoying her job almost too much. Amy didn’t blame her. The outfit left nothing to the imagination, and frankly, no one’s imagination could do any better. He was the cover boy of ancient Greek aesthetics with his Adonis body.