The truth of it walloped him in the gut.
Trevor snorted. “You’ve broken every offensive record there is to break in the NFL. When sportswriters argue about who’s the greatest quarterback who ever played, your name usually settles in at number one. How do I compete with that?” He threw out his arm dramatically.
“Don’t.” Luke felt a throb start in his left temple as he said something he hated. “I’m the jock. You’re the brain. Our skills are measured differently.”
“And valued differently,” Trevor said bitterly as he sagged back down on the high stool.
Yeah, their parents had valued Trevor’s skills over Luke’s. Maybe that’s why Luke had worked so hard at football. To prove that it was worth doing.
He grimaced at his own introspection on a morning when he had awakened in a surprisingly good mood, considering he was benched. That was Miranda’s doing. And he was seeing her again tonight. “You have any other leads on a job?”
Trevor hunched his shoulders. “A couple of third tier schools in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. They’re no better than where I am now.”
Luke considered the idea of pulling strings for his brother. He could endow a professorship or something, but it didn’t feel right. His brother needed to earn this one on his own or he’d never feel good about himself. “Set up the interviews. I’ll get you a car and driver to take you to them. It’s a start, and then you can do some groundbreaking research.”
“Thanks,” Trevor said in a tight voice.
There was no gratitude in his brother’s curt word, but Luke needed the conversation to end. “No problem. I have to get to work.”
“How about we order Tex-Mex tonight?” Trevor said.
A halfhearted peace offering. “I wish I could,” Luke said, “but I’ve got a commitment.”
“Business or pleasure?”
Luke gave his brother one of his patented “none of your business” stares.
“I guess that answers my question.”
“How about Thurs—oh, crap, I have a charity thing that night that Doug roped me into. You want to come?”
“Nah. I wouldn’t be able to make a big enough donation.”
It wasn’t worth responding to that, so Luke got up and rinsed his glass before putting it in the dishwasher. As he grabbed his jacket and headed for the elevator, he considered the idea of inviting Miranda to the gala. She’d turn him down. Too public. However, he could wring some pleasure out of twisting Gavin Miller’s arm until he showed up and forked over a donation.
He waited until he was in the limo to pull out his phone and dial the author.
“If it isn’t the benched quarterback,” Miller said in greeting. “I’d offer you one of my books to read in your free time, but there isn’t a new one.”
Luke had expected the dig at himself, but not the writer’s sneer at his own problem. “I can provide you with a distraction. I need to fill a table at a charity gala for foster kids tomorrow night.” He reeled off the cause, location, and time.
“I’ll send a check, but I’m not in the mood for society right now.” Miller’s voice was bleak. “No, wait. Get Trainor to bring his mystery woman and I’ll come.” Now his tone had an edge of malicious glee.
“Bring a date yourself.”
“What about you, Mr. All Football All the Time? Will you have a lovely lady on your arm?”
Miranda’s face leaped into his mind again, but the prospect of Gavin Miller’s presence added yet another reason to keep her away from the evening. “My personal trainer.” Elyssa Lauda often acted as his date when he wanted no complications.
“Ah, a woman with a killer body, I imagine.”
“She keeps fit,” Luke said.
“Let me know what Nathan says.” The writer hung up.
He dialed Trainor’s cell and got voice mail but chose not to leave a message. He wanted to apply the right pressure to get the CEO there with his date. Luke was curious about her, too.
Once again Miranda drifted into his thoughts. That reminded him of the need to find an alternative location for their after dinner activities. He speed-dialed the Ritz-Carlton in Battery Park.
Unlike his brother, Luke made his own arrangements where women were concerned.
“Miranda, would you please come to my office?”
When Orin’s nasal voice came through the phone’s speaker, Miranda made a face. She’d been savoring the happy hum of her body as flashes of the night before flitted through her mind. Not to mention the anticipation of sitting across from Luke at a fine restaurant in a few hours. And what would happen afterward. Her nerve endings did a little tango.
The situation was so far beyond anything she’d ever experienced that she couldn’t make herself worry about the risk of being seen with Luke. She’d been keeping her nose to the grindstone and holding her expenses down so she could help her brother out. She needed—deserved—this brief, spectacular fling. Her expectations were realistic, as in zero, so why shouldn’t she let go just this once?
“I’ll be right there,” she said to Orin, wondering what it was this time. Probably some complaint from a client because she wasn’t at the Pinnacle yesterday. Orin hadn’t been happy when Luke had arranged for Miranda to be away the entire day. He couldn’t say much because Luke was such a high profile client. But her boss could still take it out on her.