Johnathan traipsed through the living room then with several beers dangling from between his fingers, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were talking about him. Then again, he knew his wife, and as far as Alex was concerned, nothing was off-limits to talk about on girls' night. Including her own husband.

For the next half hour, Mia chatted with Alex about school, what they'd both done for the holidays, and the hugely successful charity drive at the children's hospital that Alex had recently concluded. The conversation had lulled enough that Mia considered heading home when Johnathan erupted from the room he'd been holed up in, followed by a round of cheers.

"I take it they won?" Alex asked, sparing Johnathan a look.

"They did," he said, a huge grin on his face. "I want to listen to the owner's press conference, and then we're off to bed."

Alex nodded, sending a mischievous look toward Mia.

"That's my cue to go," Mia said, pushing to her feet.

"I'll have Kevin drive you home," Alex said, referring to their butler.

"I can call a cab," Mia told her friend. "No need to have him get out this late."

"Are you kidding? I'm sure he'd be happy to get a few minutes without all the noise. At least when he gets back, it'll be quiet around here."

"Sure it will," Mia teased.

"Well, besides that," Alex confirmed with a sly grin.

"DINNER AND A beer to celebrate?" Phoenix asked Tarik as he passed him on the way to the locker room, where the players had converged a few minutes ago.

"After the press conference," Tarik agreed, reminding him that he had something else to take care of before he could relax for the evening.

Not that relaxing was the first thing on his mind. He was still reeling from the close game that they'd won in the last seconds. His blood still pounded in his veins the same as it always did when he was that close to the action. The only thing that could've been better would've been if he'd been out on the ice with those guys.

Nodding his understanding to Tarik, Phoenix continued down the hall, heading in the direction of the cheers and shouts that erupted on the other side of the heavy wooden door. Making his way inside, Phoenix encountered the rough-and-tumble group celebrating another win.

Bringing his fingers to his lips, Phoenix let out a sharp whistle, wanting to gain their attention quickly. "Hey, guys. I wanted to stop in and congratulate you. Big win tonight. I'm impressed with the stats. You played hard. It was close, but still a W. Can't ask for much more than that."

Several hands came his way, and Phoenix shook them, clapping players on the back, mentioning some of their personal achievements of the night. He'd made a point to talk to the team after every game. Although his coaching staff did a damn fine job of motivating the team, Phoenix felt it was important to remain hands-on as much as he could. It was something his father had prided himself on.

When the players started heading for the showers, Phoenix nodded to the team's head coach as he worked his way back out to the hall, locating Tarik, who was waiting for him.

Camera flashes erupted when Phoenix walked into the room that had been dedicated to the press conference. He was the first from his organization to arrive, but he knew the coaches and a few of the players would be along shortly. Hopefully by then, Phoenix would be on his way to the hotel, and they could handle the rest of the political crap for the night.

"Phoenix! What do you think of the team's performance tonight?"

Questions were lobbed at him right and left, and Phoenix did his best to answer them with a smile. He'd made a decision to be as transparent with the media as he possibly could, something that he hoped would keep him out of the limelight as much as possible. For the most part, it had worked, although he did find himself answering questions he preferred to pass on to others.

"Phoenix! Can you tell us more about the lawsuit with Damien Landry? Rumor is that you're meeting with him next week."

Phoenix pretended not to be surprised by the statement. He dared a glance over at Tarik, who gave a very subtle nod, confirming the rumor. "I won't have anything to say until after that meeting takes place."

"Do you plan to settle with Landry?"

"I have no comment at this time," Phoenix stated. He didn't want to go into the details of the absurd accusation that Damien Landry had heaped on him shortly after Phoenix's father had passed away. According to Landry, Sid Pierce had been negotiating the sale of the team to him, yet no one else was aware of the transaction. No one.

Which made Phoenix believe it was all a bunch of bullshit made up by a man who was looking for attention. Not that he would tell the press that.

"Mr. Pierce will hold another news conference in the future, once he has more details," Tarik interjected before urging Phoenix out of the room.

Phoenix adjusted his suit coat and followed, thanking the press for coming.

A few minutes later, once they were safely ensconced in the limo, Phoenix let out a ragged breath. "I still don't know how my father did this."

"He made it look easy," Tarik confirmed, staring at him as the limo pulled into traffic.

"That he did." Pinning Tarik with a glare, Phoenix followed with, "Why didn't anyone tell me I'm meeting with Landry?"

"Just came up. He's a persistent little fucker," Tarik snarled. "He wants a one-on-one with you."

"Who thought that would be a good idea?" Phoenix questioned.

"Phil."

Phoenix made a mental note to have a conversation with his lawyer. Why he'd want to force Phoenix to talk to Damien Landry, he didn't know. As far as he was concerned, the guy needed to go away. Whatever nonsense he'd conjured up in his head about Sid selling the team to him was exactly that ... nonsense. "When's this meeting?"

"Monday."

Phoenix stared out the window as the limo weaved its way through the parking lot.

"There's something else you should know," Tarik said, drawing Phoenix's attention toward him.

Without asking, Phoenix waited for him to continue.

"Mia Cantrell. Your mystery woman from the elevator..."

Phoenix cocked an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"She's Damien's ex-wife."

"Are you shitting me?" Phoenix asked, sitting up straight and staring at Tarik.

"Not at all."

"Motherfucker."

"Exactly. What are the odds that you've got a hard-on for Landry's ex?"

That was a damn good question. Was it a coincidence that she'd crossed Phoenix's path? "How long have they been divorced?"

"Officially only a few months. She asked for the divorce nine months ago."

"Nine months?" Surely that couldn't be a coincidence. That was about the time Landry had brought a lawsuit against him.

"If it's any consolation," Tarik said quietly, "I don't think she has a clue what Landry's up to. According to what I found out, she left him because he cheated on her. She moved in with her mother temporarily and filed for divorce. Once that was done, she bought the condo and started school."

Phoenix nodded. He didn't know what to say to that. He knew it was a damn good reason for him to get the woman out of his head. It didn't matter if he couldn't stop thinking about her. He didn't know her, so there would be no loss on his part if he pretended she didn't exist.

Too bad he didn't want to go that route.

Chapter Seven.

FRIDAY NIGHT - ODDLY dubbed date night by Alex - came far faster than Mia thought it would. Since she went to school on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, she had been lucky enough to have the entire day to lounge around, which she had.

She'd spent the morning in the coffee shop, studying for a test that was coming up the following week. Then she had walked a few blocks over and gotten a manicure and pedicure, something she'd denied herself for the last few months in an attempt to save money after spending an enormous chunk of change purchasing the condo. Frugal had seriously become her middle name.

When she got back to her building, Mia was quite relaxed and looking forward to spending a night out with Alex and Johnathan. The three of them hadn't been out together since before Mia's divorce, although she'd gone to their place several times, and she generally talked to Alex at least once a day on the phone.

Alex was worried about her, she had said when they'd spoken on the phone earlier that morning. Apparently, Damien had become exaggerated in some of his media claims after last night's hockey game, and for whatever reason, he'd dragged her name into it, something he'd done for a while now. Mia wasn't sure why he'd mentioned her. Based on what Alex had told her, it didn't make any sense. But Damien was Damien, and she figured he was all about gaining attention, something that was relatively easy for him.

Mia had told her friend that there wasn't anything to worry about. Mia was actually happier now than she had been in months, maybe even years, and she really didn't give a shit what Damien had to say about her. On the days she went to school, she focused only on that. On the days she had off, she studied. But no matter what, every day that week had been a better day than those she'd spent married to Damien. At least over the course of the last year of their marriage.

She was quite content with things exactly the way they were now.

Granted, she'd thought about the guy from the coffee shop - Hot Hoodie Guy, aka Coach - every single one of those days, too. The same guy she'd practically run over in the lobby when she'd stepped off the elevator. She refused to think about the other guys who'd caught her attention, hoping that by limiting her options, she'd eventually let go of the fantasies altogether.

Considering she wasn't interested in a relationship, Mia knew that nothing would come of her errant thoughts, so from time to time, she allowed them to run free. Not too much that she'd get carried away, but enough to give her mind a little break from her schoolwork.

Now, as she ran her curling iron through her hair, touching up the few pieces that hung down from the twist she'd fixed on top of her head, Mia watched herself in her bathroom mirror. She certainly wasn't thinking about Hot Hoodie Guy now. She was too busy wondering whether or not she was going to run into Damien tonight.

The date Alex had insisted Mia go on with her and her husband was actually a charity event that had been planned a full year in advance. Mia had RSVP'd her attendance long before she'd asked Damien for a divorce, and when Alex had mentioned it earlier in the week, she'd realized she really did want to go. Just because she'd given up that life didn't mean that she had to give up everything that was important to her. So, Mia had agreed to go with Alex.

And now she was getting ready.

The black, single-shoulder, A-line chiffon gown she was going to wear was lying on her bed, her heels on the floor, and the jewelry that would adorn her ears and neck sitting on the bathroom counter. She'd bought the dress online, having fallen in love with it instantly. It was both sexy and elegant, which was exactly what she was going for. After wearing jeans and sweatshirts all week, Mia was kind of looking forward to dressing up.

She spent more time than usual on her makeup, figuring she'd go all out. She lathered one of her favorite perfumed lotions on her skin and pulled on her dress. The shoes could wait. They'd be killing her feet by the time she made it to the hotel where the function was being held, so she didn't feel the need to torture herself any longer than necessary.

Once she was ready, Mia stood in front of the full-length mirror, studying herself for a bit. She didn't look much different than she had nearly a year ago when she'd attended the last charity function, that time on Damien's arm. She might've gained a couple of pounds since then, although if you asked her mother, Clarice would say that was a good thing. However, Mia had made a resolution for the New Year to start going to the gym, but only so she could afford to add a little fat to her freezer content. Damien had always given her a hard time about not being skinny enough - whatever that meant - and since she hadn't cared to rock the boat, she had found herself doing as she was told, eating bland foods, doing yoga although she detested it, and otherwise making herself miserable to fit into a mold Damien had expected her to fit in.

Needless to say, she felt better these days. Not only because she wasn't twisting herself into a pretzel or on some strict diet of fruits and vegetables, lean meats, and no carbs. It was a combination of things.

Her cell phone rang, ending her self-inspection. Grabbing her shoes, Mia ran to the kitchen, snatching it up from the bar before it went to voice mail.

"Hey," Mia greeted, knowing that the only person who would be calling her was the woman who was coming to pick her up in a few short minutes.

"We'll be there in five. The limo will be out front. Want us to come up?"

"No, that's all right. I'll head down now. See you in a few," Mia told Alex.

After tossing her phone into her clutch alongside her credit card, driver's license, and lip gloss, Mia grabbed her wrap and her shoes and headed for the door. She waited until she was at her front door before slipping the four-and-a-half-inch, strappy silver Manolo Blahniks on her feet and then smoothing her gown with her hands. This would have to do.

Mia locked the door to her condo and made her way to the elevator, pressing the button to call it to her floor. While she fixed the wrap over her bare shoulders, she noticed the only elevator that was working was currently stopped at the penthouse, and she was momentarily tempted to run back into her condo and let it go by.

Or maybe she could take the stairs.

Her eyes darted back and forth between the elevator doors and her front door. She still had time. She spared another glance at the numbers above the door. Crap. It was on eighteen.

No time now.

Maybe, if she were lucky, it would be empty.

The muffled ding echoed in the hallway, signaling the arrival, and Mia held her breath as the doors slowly opened.

Nope. Not empty.

Oh.

Crap.

Just as she'd feared, there in front of her was the same handsome, black-haired, suit-wearing guy from the other day. Only this time he wasn't wearing an expensive suit. He was wearing a freaking tuxedo. Armani, if she wasn't mistaken. And Mia was pretty sure it wasn't a rental.

He wasn't alone, either.

Clearly, one sexy man wasn't enough for the universe's idea of a cruel joke, because standing next to him was Tall, Dark, and Intimidating wearing an equally impressive tuxedo - Calvin Klein, she guessed - and looking far too sexy for his own good. They were both watching her closely, and Mia took a deep breath, willing her feet forward. Apparently they had plans for Friday night, as well.

She had to pay careful attention to walking because she nearly tripped, her eyes trailing over their impressive forms one at a time. One thing she noticed instantly was that they took up a drastic amount of real estate in the small elevator. Both were tall, probably over six feet, and broad. Green Eyes had wide shoulders, a trim waist, and long legs. In a word, he was delicious. He took up a lot of space, but it wasn't only physical. The man exuded confidence like no one she'd ever met. And dressed like that... Mia found it difficult to look away.

Then, of course, there was the other guy. Golden Eyes was even bigger than the other, both in width and height. His torso appeared long, his hips narrow, his feet big. Where the other man had a confident air, this one gave off a no-nonsense vibe. But he looked equally scrumptious in the well-cut tux.

Just clothes, she told herself. Clothes did not make a man. As she had learned the hard way with Damien.

Mia stepped onto the elevator and offered both men a small smile, avoiding their gazes as she turned and faced the elevator doors, clinging to the wrap hugging her shoulders and holding her clutch in front of her. They smelled good. The rich, spicy scent of cologne wafted up her nose, and she inhaled deeply, unable to resist. She wasn't sure what expensive brand it was, or which of them wore it, but she liked it. A lot.

"Guilty, by Gucci," the sexy-voiced, green-eyed man said.

"What?" Mia asked, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"My cologne."

Crap. Was he a mind reader? Or had she said that out loud? God, she hoped not.

She blushed, her face heating as she spared him a sideways look, meeting his glistening green eyes. Mia suddenly felt like a science experiment due to the way he was studying her, the way his penetrating gaze raked over her from head to toe. Slowly.

"You look beautiful," he said, and Mia nearly choked on her tongue.