My Second Chance Player
Beaky Tiki Series Book Two
Elyse Riggs
Contents
Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Epilogue
About the Author
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events in this book are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2020 by Elyse Riggs
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Edited by: Zoe’s Author Services
Created with Vellum
Description
My Second Chance Player is a hilarious, standalone romantic comedy featuring a booty call on a pirate parade float, a bad monkey named Shark, a hot-as-sin NFL tight end, and lots of chips and salsa at the Beaky Tiki.
Angie
Things I'd rather do than spend time with Jake: slather myself with peanut butter and fight an angry badger, swim shark infested waters with a paper cut, and pet a rabid porcupine.
I'd do anything to keep my vet practice above water. Anything except deal with Jake. He left town without a word years ago after a night of fiery passion. And now he's back. And if he thinks I'm going to drool all over him like every other woman in this town, then he's got another thing coming.
Jake
I may be the one who left years ago, but Angie's definitely the one that got away. I just didn't know it at the time. Getting cut from the NFL forces me back to my hometown and a last-ditch effort to save my career. Now that I'm back, the one woman in this town who I want more than anything is the one who won't even give me a chance.
Chapter 1
Angie
I pull my beat-up VW into the packed strip mall parking lot and then grab a parking space far from my usual front row spot in front of the vet clinic.
Normally I would park in my spot, the one at the front that’s reserved for the owner. That’s me. I’m the owner of St. Tropic Veterinary Clinic. The business that is about to go down in flames unless tonight goes perfectly.
I get out of my car. There’s a nice evening breeze rustling the nearby trees as I look around. The crowds, the television crew, the excitement.
When I bought this place, it was nothing but a converted warehouse with too much square footage in all the wrong places. A fixer upper for sure, and I knew that going in. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
And I have the best vet team in the city, no matter what Animal Universe Incorporated says in their advertisements.
What I didn't know back when I bought this place was that a few years into this venture I'd have to host my own telethon just to keep from being run out of business by a soul-less vet conglomerate that decided to add two locations here in the past year alone.
Even worse, their instant name recognition paired with an unlimited marketing budget has left me on the verge of bankruptcy.
Now that it’s come to this, I'm grateful for the extra space in my office building. Or Puppy-thon would not be happening.
And Puppy-thon has to happen. In fact, if tonight isn't the best damn Puppy-thon in the history of thons, then my whole practice might go down in history. Bankruptcy history.
Ha, “Thon” sounds a lot like thong. I chuckle to myself, but only because the only area of my life going down in flames faster than my finances is my love life.
Because there’s obviously no time for dating when I’m fighting for my future.
C'mon, citizens of St. Tropic, let's prove that for the next few hours you care more about the well-being of a dedicated, personal hometown vet than, well, everything else.
A television truck is parked at the front of the building. It has the Channel Fourteen logo on the side, a stylized blue number fourteen with a swoosh style circle around it.
And it’s taking up three parking spots. Of course. I know only one reporter in town who would pull such a dick move: Gavin McCloud.
Gavin is Channel Fourteen’s number one on-location reporter. He’s not a fan of mine and vice-versa. His presence here is not a good sign. I can close my eyes and make a wish that it’ll be someone else, anybody else reporting on Puppy-Thon tonight, but I know it would be a wasted wish.
Puppy-Thon is the hopefully brilliant idea of my new publicist, Cara Carrera. She’s smart, savvy, expensive, and either a great last-ditch effort to save my practice or a go-broke-faster guarantee. It’s the game of financial chicken that is currently my life.
With a deep breath, I open the door and go in. Cara’s people did a great job getting everything ready. On the right is a table set up with snacks for the volunteers and camera crew.
Of course, Gavin is over there hoovering up all the good stuff. The good stuff being the stacks of Scrumptious Chocolates that my bestie, Kaylee, donated for tonight.
With a snort of derision I cross the room, a woman on a mission. It’s one thing to come here tonight just to rain on my parade, it’s another to hog all of the good snacks out of pure spite.
“Gavin.” I say his name and raise both eyebrows at him as judgingly as I can manage.
“What? You set out food, I’m eating food.” I watch his bottom lip curl into a snarl.
Oh my God. He’s
