Risky Game Read Online Free PDF Page A

Blaze players watched in disgust as the scene was replayed on the jumbotron, the infraction glaringly obvious, as the Patriots trotted off the field in victory.
    “Do you think going dateless is such a smart idea?” The humor in Gwen’s voice traveled through the cell phone mounted in the dash of Brody’s Range Rover. “You’d be fair game for every woman there. I think Mom just wants to make sure you don’t detract attention from the bride. Like when one of the Kennedy kids tried to bring Taylor Swift to his cousin’s wedding. She’s worried you’ll bring Candi the porn star or someone equally scene-stealing.”
    Brody gritted his teeth. “For the one millionth time, Candi is an
adult-film actress
.”
    “There’s a difference?” his sister teased.
    Braking at a red light, Brody massaged his left shin where another player’s cleat had left a painful bruise. He’d spent the last couple of hours with several of his teammates at the practice facility letting the training staff administer to his various aches and pains. “Do you have anything work related to discuss? Because, if not, I’m gonna hang up now.”
    Gwen laughed. “You are such a poor loser.”
    “Bye-bye.” He reached out a hand to disconnect the call.
    “Wait! I do have some decisions I need your okay on. I’ll be nice, I promise.”
    Twelve years and three sisters separated him from his oldest sibling. But Brody felt closer to Gwen than he did to his parents; probably because while he was growing up, she’d been the one to intervene when his other sisters insisted on using him as their own personal plaything. The mother of two school-age children herself, Gwen was responsible for handling Brody’s personal correspondence and other publicity issues. It was a job she could do from her home in Boston, which suited them both perfectly. Brody loved his four older sisters. He just loved them more when they were eight hours away.
    “Get to the point,” he said as he punched on the gas, merging with the cars on Central Avenue. “I’m on my way home to watch
Monday Night Football
.”
    “I know tomorrow’s your day off, but please go over the proposal for the charity auction. You have a meeting with the board next week and they’ll want your agreement.”
    “More like they want my money,” he grumbled. Brody didn’t mind sharing his wealth with those in need, but lately he was beginning to feel like a blank check, autonomous in the whole operation of his own charity.
    His sister ignored his comment. “
Menswear
magazine wanted you to do a resort spread on your bye weekend, but I had to nix that since Tricia’s wedding is the same day. They won’t give up. They were wondering if you’d do a shoot for their holiday issue, but it would have to be before the end of this month. And they’d need you in New York. Should I tell them they’ll have to come to Baltimore if they want you?”
    Brody scrubbed a hand down his face. One of his other sisters, Ashley, was a buyer for Nordstrom. She’d been dressing Brody his entire life. Fortunately for him, he’d outgrown her doll clothes by the time he was eighteen months old. Ash was talented, though, and thanks to her critical eye, he knew he always looked his best, unintentionally finding his way onto many best-dressed lists. But he was getting tired of being known as just another pretty face.
    “No.” Time to draw the line on the turf. “Tell them I’m not interested in doing any more photo shoots. I’m done modeling.”
    “Crikey, Brody, you are grouchy today.”
    He remained silent, easing up on the gas as he entered a school zone.
    Gwen blew out a breath. “Okay, as you wish. I’ll tell them the holiday spread is a no, but I’m not closing the door on future shoots in case you’re less hormonal tomorrow and you change your mind. Now, about this personal chef person you want; are you serious? It’s not like you to be so pretentious as to want someone to cook your meals for you.