Playing Dirty: San Diego Social Scene Book 3 Read online

  Playing Dirty

  San Diego Social Scene Book #3

  Tess Summers

  Seasons Press LLC

  Copyright 2018 Tess Summers

  Published: 2018

  Published by Seasons Press LLC.

  Copyright © 2018, Tess Summers.

  Edited by Sandy Ebel, Personal Touch Editing

  Cover by OliviaProDesign

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations within critical reviews and otherwise as permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  This book is for mature readers. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language that may be considered offensive by some.

  All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen years of age or older.

  Playing Dirty

  Cassie

  I’m a career woman. I wear success like a second skin, and I’m rarely satisfied with anything less than the best. This includes my love life. If you want to date me, you better bring your A game because I don’t play with the B team.

  The only type of commitment I’m interested in is the one I have with my career. There is no man strong enough to tame me. Bold enough to rattle me. Or confident enough to win my heart. But then again, I have never met a man like Luke Rivas.

  Luke

  Cassie is one feisty, fiery, demanding woman who has enough confidence to intimidate even the bravest of men. She’s driven, ambitious, and clearly has no interest in anything more than a casual fling.

  But here’s the thing. I want her, and once I have her, there will be nothing casual about it.

  I will crack through that tough exterior she wears so well and bend her into submission. I’ll make her break every one of her own damn rules just for me. And in order to accomplish just that…

  I’m willing to play dirty.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the people who, when life handed them lemons, decided to make lemon drop martinis with theirs.

  Cheers.

  Acknowledgments

  Mr. Summers: Thanks for taking such good care of me all these years. You’re my rock, and I love you.

  Summers’ children: Thanks for continuing to proudly tell people what I do for a living. All three of you are awesome; I don’t care what your dad says.

  Bad Girls’ Club–expanded version: Y’all are the shit. Best beta readers on the planet. Seriously. Thank you, thank you.

  Sandy Ebel: Thank you for helping my obvious disdain for those stupid punctuation marks called commas be not so obvious to my readers. I appreciate everything you did to make this book better.

  Laura Giovanini: Thank you for working so hard on this cover and patiently making changes when I suggested them-even if it was just to show me I was wrong. LOL You are literally the definition of a friend for life. (40+ years!)

  The amazing writing community-fellow authors, bloggers, readers, and industry counterparts: Wow. You are all amazingly generous with your support, advice, and time. Thank you for including me in the circle.

  All my friends on social media: You make me smile every day. Thanks for being my friend even if you probably wouldn’t say hi to me in real life. LOL

  My real-life friends: Thank you for your continued support in this crazy new adventure. It means a lot.

  My extended family: Thanks for buying my books even though you will never read them and for always showing up. Always. I love you for that.

  Lastly, to my readers: I can’t begin to express how humble it makes me that you read my work. Thanks for letting me continue sharing my stories with you. I hope to for a long time to come.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright 2018 Tess Summers

  Playing Dirty

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Cinderella and the Marine

  Other Works by Tess Summers

  Free Book! The Playboy and the SWAT Princess

  Operation Sex Kitten

  The General’s Desire

  About the Author

  Contact Me!

  Playing Dirty

  Prologue

  Cassie

  “I’d love to take you out for a drink sometime.”

  They had just taken their seat at the restaurant bar when Dr. Rob Bennett made his declaration, his green eyes twinkling. The good-looking, orthopedic surgeon zoned in on Cassie Sullivan the minute she walked through the doors, approaching with a glass of white wine for her already in hand and a cocky smile on his lips that grew even bigger when she accepted the drink.

  Rob’s charm and confidence were working for him. The petite, dark-blonde found herself glad she hadn’t bowed out of the Monday evening mixer her pharmaceutical company was sponsoring like she’d originally planned.

  “Sure,” Cassie smiled, “just say when.” She wasn’t the pharma rep for Rob’s practice, so she didn’t see a conflict going out with him.

  “When.”

  She laughed out loud, fidgeting with the stem on her wineglass.

  “Could you be more specific?”

  “How about Friday night? We can meet at Oakwood for their Friday Whiskey Flights and Wings.”

  Whiskey and wings on a Friday night? What could possibly go wrong? Except Wake-Up Hungover Sans Panties Sa
turday.

  “That sounds like fun. What time?”

  His obviously groomed eyebrows drew together like he suddenly remembered something, and he shifted uncomfortably on the barstool.

  “Um, how about seven?”

  If she were gracious, she’d make an excuse and say Friday wouldn’t work after all.

  Except, she wasn’t gracious. He shouldn’t have suggested it if he didn’t mean it. Besides, maybe he was going to reschedule whatever he obviously already had planned.

  He texted her Tuesday night, flirting a little, but making no mention of meeting Friday. Same when they communicated on Wednesday, although he amped up his flirting, which she didn’t exactly discourage. Rob was her textbook type—athletic build, not too tall but not too short, successful and driven, probably making as much money as she did. And green eyes.

  Green eyes were her kryptonite.

  Thursday found him casting his line to send a dick pic, but she didn’t bite. What was it with men’s fascination with photographing their junk and wanting to show it off? Yet still no mention of their whiskey and wings date, so she wasn’t surprised when she got a text from him Friday afternoon.

  Rob B: I am so sorry. I forgot my buddies bought me baseball tickets for tonight. Maybe we could have lunch tomorrow?

  There were three things about the message that pissed her off. One, she knew he’d remembered he had plans the night he asked her out, so, two, why did he wait until the last minute to cancel? Was he waiting to see how easy she was before deciding which plans to go with? And three, lunch? Really? He wants to have lunch now?

  On a Saturday.

  Instead of taking her out Saturday night.

  Fuck that. She didn’t care how good looking he was or how green his eyes were.

  You take the B team to lunch, you take the A-team out on a Saturday night. She was fucking A team material, dammit.

  She replied: Sorry, can’t. Have plans.

  Rob B: Brunch on Sunday?

  Hey, Dr. Asshat, eat a dick.

  She hit the backspace before the send button and took the more polite route.

  Cassie: No, busy. Maybe next time.

  Rob B: When are you available?

  She was sure he had ‘better’ plans on Saturday night and couldn’t wait to hear his excuse.

  Cassie: Saturday night.

  Rob B: Great. How about seven o’clock again, same place?

  Color her surprised.

  Cassie: Sounds great. See you then.

  ****

  Cassie’s heels echoed off the wooden floors as she walked into Oakwood’s bar area at seven fifteen. She had sent Rob a text to let him know she was running behind, so she’d meet him in the bar. Looking at the mostly empty tables, he was nowhere to be found.

  Hmmm. He had responded it wasn’t a problem she was going to be late, so she didn’t think he would have just left. She walked up to the old-fashioned bar—the kind you’d see in a Western movie, complete with a bar-length mirror hanging behind it—and climbed onto a heavy, wooden barstool.

  Maybe he’s in the restroom.

  A perky, redheaded bartender bounced over with a smile and asked what she’d like to drink.

  “I’ll have a Crown and ginger, tall, please.”

  As the woman gathered the ingredients on the other side of the counter, Cassie nervously traced her fingers on the scuffed mahogany while swiveling her seat back and forth. When the frosted bar glass was placed in front of her, Cassie jabbed the skinny red straw in the ice.

  “There wasn’t a guy here waiting for someone, was there? About five-eleven, athletic build, light brown hair, nice looking.”

  The bartender shook her head, swishing her red ponytail back and forth. “Sorry, hon, no one.”

  The drink was stronger than Cassie had anticipated, so she tried to nurse it, checking her phone, what seemed like every two minutes while perusing the walls adorned with memorabilia of famous people who’d visited the bar. When she’d almost finished her cocktail and run out of things to pretend to be interested in looking at, there was still no sign or word from Rob. The memory of the time her sister, Brenna had been stood up flashed to the forefront of her mind. Granted, Brenna being stood up made it in the Out and About section of the paper, so at least there was the consolation of only the bartender knowing Cassie had been stood up and not all of San Diego.

  Taking out her phone, she fired off a message: Almost done with my drink. Should I just go?

  She’d give him five minutes to respond, then she was leaving if he didn’t.

  He immediately sent back a cryptic text.

  Rob B: Be there soon.

  What the hell?

  Red eyed her near empty glass and asked if she wanted another.

  “I’m not sure.”

  The woman gave a sympathetic smile. “What time was he supposed to be here?”

  Cassie hesitated, then over shared. “Seven, but I texted to let him know I was going to be late. He said that was fine but made no mention of being late himself.”

  Red glanced at her watch and scrunched up her freckled nose. “Well, it’s ten to eight now, hon.” She must have sensed Cassie’s indecision about what to do next because she said, “I’ve gotta grab a case of beer from the cooler, so no rush. Be right back.”

  The woman disappeared around the corner, and Cassie twisted in her seat, scanning the tables one last time before making up her mind she was outta there as soon as she could pay for her drink.

  She heard the bartender say from around the corner, “Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while!” and a deep male voice she recognized as Rob’s respond, “Hey, Celeste. Just meeting a friend.”

  Rob came around the corner, looking hot in spite of his casual shorts, flip flops, wrinkled tee, and a baseball cap on backward. His appearance was a stark contrast to Cassie’s high heels and perfectly pressed sundress—the dress she’d spent twenty minutes agonizing over before deciding to wear. Red rounded the corner with a case of beer in her hands and motioned toward Rob with her head.

  “This who you’ve been waiting for?”

  Cassie gave a meager smile when she nodded and felt oddly uncomfortable when the woman rolled her eyes at Rob with a smirk.

  “Figures.”

  Celeste—Cassie assumed was her name since that’s what she’d heard Rob call her—suddenly seemed less friendly toward Cassie when she took Rob’s drink order, all but ignoring the pharmaceuticals rep now.

  “How’s Lauren?” the woman asked him, making sure to lean forward to show her ample cleavage while scooping ice for his drink.

  “We broke up.”

  The barmaid eyed Cassie. “I wondered. Sorry to hear that.” She proceeded to go down memory lane with him, leaving Cassie feeling like the third wheel. Apparently, the two went way back to his college days.

  To Rob’s credit, he really tried to include Cassie in the conversation, but between him canceling on her last minute yesterday, making her wait tonight for over thirty minutes with no explanation offered, and the reunion tour of memories with the Little Mermaid’s stand-in behind the bar, Cassie was done.

  “Hey, I need to close out my tab,” she called out to Celeste as the woman made a drink for another customer.

  Rob spun on his barstool to face her. “I just got here.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said with a fake smile. She didn’t try to disguise how she felt about that although she passive-aggressively pretended to. “I have some things I need to take care of. I could’ve taken care of them earlier had I known we weren’t really meeting until eight.”

  He stood, pulled a money clip from his front pocket, and threw two twenties on the bar, still offering no reason why he was late.

  “Let me walk you to your car, at least.”

  “No, you stay and enjoy your drink,” Cassie smirked. “I’m sure you still have lots of catching up to do.”

  He shook his head and guided her by the elbow to the door without a second glance at the bartender.


  “I’m sorry about Celeste. We used to work together a long time ago.”

  “I gathered that.”

  They started toward the parking lot, and Cassie noticed a group of women in standard little black dresses prancing up the sidewalk toward the bar, not so subtly eye him up and down. She didn’t blame them—he was good looking. And successful. If he was good in bed that’d pretty much be her trifecta. But she got the feeling he was playing her for a fool about why he couldn’t make it last night. And why was he so late tonight? Why didn’t he tell her he was going to be late as well when she texted him she was going to be?

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask when she realized, she really didn’t give a shit.

  Opening the driver’s door on her red Lexus LS 460, she tilted her chin towards him.

  “Thanks for the drink, Rob. Have a great night,” she said and slid onto the tan leather seat.

  With his hands on the steel frame, he leaned down before she could close the door. His brown novelty t-shirt pulled tight at the chest, and she caught a whiff of his expensive cologne.

  “Come on, let me take you somewhere else. I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”

  Cassie stared at him while contemplating her next move.

  He smiled and with a wink, mouthed, “Please?”

  His lips were really suckable when he pouted. And those fucking green eyes mesmerized her.

  Snapping out of it, she asked sweetly, “How was the game?”

  He furrowed his brow, “The ga--? Oh, it was good.”

  “Which game was it again?”

  He’d recovered from his faux pas and didn’t miss a beat this time. “The Padres.”

  Not many people knew Danny Roberts, second baseman for the Padres, was her brother-in-law for almost twenty years before he was killed in a car accident. Cassie still followed the team closely, so she knew they were in San Francisco last night.

  It wasn’t impossible he’d traveled the five hundred miles to the game. Looking at his handsome face and muscular arms, she was trying to convince herself he had until he added, “Ortiz pitched a helluva game, we should’ve won.”