Passion Overtime. Pamela Yaye

lovers. Hell, they were barely acquaintances. Besides, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Or rather, hurt her. Her confidence returned, and a smile touched her lips. Yes, this arrangement would work out nicely. She’d pretend to be married and Terrence would never be the wiser. And her parents said it didn’t pay to lie. Who knew?

      “Could we get together tonight to discuss…”

      Kyra started to speak, but trailed off when she felt a hand wind around her waist. She turned to her left, and a smile came. A huge, toothy grin that could eclipse the morning sun. Charles had chosen the best possible time to make an appearance, and Kyra suddenly felt like hugging him. But they’d only been dating for a few weeks and she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, even if it would knock Terrence down a few pegs. “Charles! Oh my God, what are you doing here?”

      “Surprising you,” he announced. “Don’t tell me you’re busy making arrangements for homecoming, because I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all week. I’m taking you out to lunch, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

      “Of course, Charles. You know how much I like spending time with you. I’ve…”

      Terrence coughed loudly, breaking her concentration. Annoyed, she glanced over at him. His jaw was clenched so tight, the muscles in his neck were throbbing. Thank you, Charles! she thought, grinning with satisfaction at Terrence’s displeasure. She could be wrong, but he looked jealous. Though she’d graduated at the top of her class and bought her first home last year, nothing was more satisfying than seeing her ex green with envy.

      “Hey man, what’s up? I’m Terrence.”

      “Charles Roberts.” His ocean-blue eyes were hard stones, and his forehead was creased. “Are you also in PR?”

      “No, I play…I mean, I played professional ball.”

      Charles snuck a glance at Kyra for confirmation, and she nodded. “Terrence played for the Dallas Cowboys,” she explained, mustering the appropriate amount of excitement. “He was also voted offensive player of the year three times during his career.”

      “You forgot eight-time pro Bowler,” Terrence added with a sly wink. “And tell him about those soup commercials. Big Mama loves those!”

      Kyra laughed. She couldn’t help it. The commercials were a riot. Only Terrence could make figure skating look cool and she’d read recently that the company had seen a twenty percent increase in sales since the spots started running.

      “Kyra, go grab your things,” Charles ordered, pulling back the sleeve of his suit jacket and consulting his diamond encrusted watch. “Our reservations are for twelve-thirty and if we’re late they might give away our table.”

      Turning on her heels, she shot into her office, grabbed her purse off her desk and returned to the reception area in ten seconds flat. Couldn’t risk Terrence pumping Charles for personal information, now could she? “I’m ready,” she sang. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

      But Charles didn’t move. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew you were recruiting a new coach for the Lions, but you never mentioned Terrence Franklin was your old college sweetheart.”

      Kyra stopped breathing. For a moment, she stood there, frozen, her gaze bouncing between the two men. “We were kids. It meant nothing. It was over ten years ago,” she offered, by way of explanation. Her words came out in a clump, and she heard the quiver in her voice. Wonderful, she sounded like Miss Piggy on speed.

      “It sure sounds serious,” Charles countered. “Is it true you were engaged?”

      Kyra cranked her head to the right. Terrence looked as innocent as Jack the Ripper. “Yes, but it was a long time ago. So long in fact, I hardly remember.”

      “Kyra’s being shy. We had some really great times back then,” Terrence mused, as if overtaken by nostalgia. “Cruising around in my Jeep, kicking it in the quad, eating at that crummy waffle house on Ninth.”

      Kyra felt hotter than a furnace. Why was he doing this? Was he trying to get a rise out of her? When Terrence reached out and patted her arm, her veneer cracked. Two could play that game, she decided, gritting her teeth. Facing Terrence, she met the challenge in his eyes, and smiled with a sick, saccharine sweetness. “I’m surprised you even remember any of that. I mean, with all your groupies and whatnot.”

      Returning her gaze to Charles, but watching Terrence out of her peripheral vision, she said, “He left for training camp and I never heard from him again. Well, unless you count that e-mail he sent dumping me.”

      The light in Terrence’s eyes went out, and his mouth went slack.

      Kyra nodded to herself. Mission accomplished. From now on, Terrence would think twice before embarrassing her. “Honey, let’s go,” Kyra purred, tugging on Charles’s arm. She’d never used the pet name before, but now was as good time as any. “I’ve missed you, baby, and we have so much to talk about.”

      Charles frowned at her but said nothing. She was smiling so hard, her teeth ached, but when Terrence averted his gaze, satisfaction flowed through her. It appeared he couldn’t stand to see her with someone else. How did he think she felt every time she flipped on the TV and saw him at a Hollywood premiere with a gorgeous blonde draped in diamonds and Versace?

      “Kyra, I’ll wait to hear from you,” he said.

      She thought she heard a note of sadness in his tone, but Kyra refused to feel guilty for living her life. Terrence was her past and as long as she kept telling herself that, she’d be fine. Remembering her earlier conversation with her boss, she inflected her voice with cheer. “It was good seeing you again, Terrence. Welcome back to Hollington.”

      “Thanks for taking time out of your very busy schedule to meet with me.”

      “Take care.”

      The elevator pinged and Charles stepped inside.

      Then, in a twist of bad luck, everyone inside got off on their floor, leaving the elevator empty. Faced with no alternatives, Kyra got on and strangled a groan when Terrence followed. Staring intently at the control panel, she wondered how long the awkward silence would last. Is it just me or is this elevator moving slower than normal? she thought, praying the stupid thing wouldn’t stall. Stranger things had happened, and last night there had been a full moon.

      “Terrence, how long are you in town for?” Charles asked, glancing up from his BlackBerry handheld device. “You’re not hanging around until homecoming weekend, are you?”

      “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

      “You have a place here in Atlanta?”

      “I have a five-bedroom spread in Savannah,” he bragged, “but the school put me up in a place a few blocks from here.”

      While Charles and Terrence discussed the sinking real estate market, Kyra noted each man’s physical attributes. Though Terrence was several inches taller, Charles had meatier arms and outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. Olive-toned, with a sprinkling of gray throughout his short, brown hair, Charles Roberts was on the fast track to being CEO of the largest insurance company in the nation.

      Kyra’s eyes slid down the hard lines of Terrence’s chest. The NFL player might have been every woman’s dream, but he was her worst nightmare. For starters, he was broad, lean and had more muscles than a professional body builder. He possessed everything she liked in a man and more. Sexy shaved hair, deep brown eyes, ripped arms. And then there was his voice. There was a very sensual feel to it. It was commanding, but soothing and evoked feelings of calm. Charles spoke in a polished, refined way and though Terrence had graduated with a double major in English and education, his speech was cooler, laid-back, street.

      “We should all hang out some time,” Terrence suggested, as the elevator came to a grinding halt. “Kevin owns a nightclub in the city called Bollito. Ever heard of it?”

      Charles