Sizzling by Susan Mallery Page A

lurking in the background, not to mention all the
issues she had with her mother. Maybe she should—

"There
you are," Reid said as he walked into the room. "I've been
looking all over for you. We have to talk."

She turned
slowly and looked at him. He was still one of the most handsome men
she'd ever seen. Not perfect, but appealing on so many levels. She
wanted to lean into his body and feel his heat. She wanted his arms
around her, flesh on flesh, touching, reaching. She wanted to give
herself up to him in a version of surrender that left her
breathless.

On the heels of the longing came a fierce anger,
both at herself for her weakness and at the man who caused it. He was
easy enough to blame— especially considering what she'd so
recently learned about him. In the land of Reid, the hits kept on
coming.

"I don't know what to do," he said, moving
close and staring into her eyes. "You have to help me. I'm
totally screwed. Remember those kids, the ones I was supposed to send
to their state finals? The ones who didn't have a return ticket?"

He
didn't bother waiting for her to answer. "I called their coach.
I wanted to make it right. Seth had sent a check and I thought things
were fine. But the bastard only sent a thousand dollars. Some family
got their car repossessed because of me and my manager only sent a
thousand dollars?"

He ran his hand through his hair and
stalked to the window. "How did this happen? How did everything
get so messed up? You know what the guy said to me? The coach? I
offered to send everyone to Disney World, you know, to make up for
it. And he blew me off. He said they couldn't afford my brand of
charity."

He turned back to her, looking genuinely
confused. "It's me," he said. "Doesn't that
matter?"

Something inside of her snapped. She actually
felt it go and heard the popping sound.

"You are exactly
like your grandmother," she began, aware of Gloria sleeping and
keeping her voice low. "You are totally self-absorbed and
selfish. I had thought, and let me tell you how stupid I feel about
that now, that there was a person inside of you. I thought you might
actually have some small crumb of decency. But you don't. You're
nothing but a sex-starved, useless jerk. You're taking up space that
should go to someone who actually matters."

She curled
her hands into fists and fought the need to beat some sense into him.
As if she could actually hit hard enough to make him notice.

"Start
taking responsibility," she told him, her voice thick with anger
and contempt. "You keep blaming your manager, but ultimately,
you're responsible. So take the damn responsibility. Show up, do the
right thing. It's really not that hard. Oh, wait, you'd have to stop
being the center of the universe. That will be tough."

He
stared at her. "What's got up your butt?"

"Oh,
right. It has to be me, right? I'm a hysterical female. Oooh, maybe I
have my period. There's a great excuse. But I'm going to say it
anyway. Fire your damn manager. He's making you look like an ass. You
do that well enough on your own— you don't need to pay someone
to help with the process. You're supposed to be some hotshot baseball
player. Well, with that comes responsibility. Stop letting down
little kids. Be a grown-up."

"Why are you so mad at
me?"

"Because you could be so much and you're not. I
hate wasted potential."

He continued to watch her,
looking confused, as if even he knew that couldn't possibly generate
that much energy. "What's the real problem?"

"This
isn't real enough for you? Look at your life. There are Internet
photos of you having sex. Reporters are chasing you down to talk
about how lousy you are in bed. You're being mocked on CNN. Do you
sense a pattern here? You can't even hire nurses for your sick
grandmother without getting laid. You slept with Sandy and Kristie.
During their interviews. People don't do that. It's tacky. It's
wrong. Honest to God, I'm not surprised to read that you're bad in
bed. Being good in bed would mean