Baby Under the Christmas Tree Page 13
Though he’d been sitting here a while and had seen no sign of Amber, he didn’t trust her not to accost Elle again. Not to make another try for Troy.
Unwilling to risk either option he waited and watched to make sure Elle left safely. And to make sure she’d gotten his silent message: last night meant nothing.
And then the door opened and he saw her. His heart kicked up a gear. She was so beautiful, the radiance of her red hair warming him in lieu of the missing sunshine.
By the very way she moved—short crisp steps, her body nearly brittle with the stiffness of her posture—he knew he’d hit the mark with his note. Damn.
He’d meant to push her away, but he took no satisfaction in hurting her.
Nothing in his life—having no parents, rotting in the system, living on the streets—none of it had been harder than pulling away from the warm haven of his bed this morning.
Max didn’t whine about his life. It was what it was. He barely remembered his folks—instead he recalled the pain and fear of a three-year-old suddenly alone in the world, and the loneliness that followed. He’d hated growing up in the system, knowing the check that came with him was more important than he was. He lasted thirteen years before he took off and made his way west.
Living on the streets made foster care look good.
He swiped at the condensation on the window, pushing the memories away as he focused on the woman across the way. Even hurting, she handled the boy with affection and care. She competently strapped him into his seat and from where Max sat, half a block away, he heard his son laugh.
Everything about Elle fitted him, from the feel of her in his arms, to her get-it-done attitude, to her tenderness for Troy and her feisty competitiveness. And yeah, in spite of her resentment of sports ruling her childhood, that was something that ran true in her family. He loved that about her.
Wait. No. He didn’t do love.
Sure this thing with Elle had potential. But it wasn’t love. He didn’t know how to love. He liked being with her, liked the man he was when he spent time with her. And yeah, she made him yearn for things he’d never had.
But now wasn’t the time to think of himself.
He owed it to Troy to provide a safe, stable home for him. The boy deserved to know a sense of security, of unconditional love. Max truly wanted to give his son the home he’d never known.
Already the boy thrived in his care. Troy laughed easily, talked more. And most telling of all, he’d stopped screaming.
Elle had helped them make it to this point. He owed her. He might be a jerk, but this was for her own good. She was everything that was bright and open and beautiful. He’d do everything in his power to protect her from the ugliness that was Amber.
He’d put up with Amber’s antics because she was Troy’s mother and he’d felt he owed his son a little tolerance. For Elle he’d do what he hadn’t been willing to do for himself.
He slid open his phone and hit the number for his investigator.
“Max.” A deep voice came on the line. “I thought I might hear from you.”
“Send me everything you have on her,” Max ordered. “I need leverage.”
“I’ll drop it off this afternoon.”
“I want someone on her 24/7,” Max demanded. “And I want to know immediately if she goes anywhere near Elle Austin.”
* * *
On her way to her parents’ house, Elle pulled into a fast-food drive-through and picked up an egg-and-sausage sandwich and a hash-brown patty she shared with Troy. An orange juice for him and coffee for her rounded out the order. Not the breakfast of champions, but today it would have to do.
She flipped off the radio, unable to take the Christmas carols, all joyful and bright. Her mood couldn’t take the happiness and she really didn’t need the reminder of the approaching holiday. Or the reminder of what a fool she’d been at last year’s Gala, which had only been practice for this year’s idiocy.
At her mom’s she pasted on a smile and carried Troy inside. Please let this be a quick in-and-out.
Luck was not with her. Troy scurried off to the toy bin in the corner of the family room, but her mom took one look at Elle and demanded to know what was wrong.
“Come with me.” Becca towed Elle into the kitchen, which opened onto the family room so they could keep an eye on Troy, and pushed her into a chair at the table. “Talk to me.”
“Sorry, Mom. I can’t today.” Elle immediately pushed to her feet and leaned over to give her mom a kiss. “We’ll catch up soon. I promise.”
Becca’s arm shot out, blocking Elle’s exit. “Sit down, young lady.”
“I’m not a teenager anymore, Mom,” Elle protested. “I have a job and responsibilities.”
“Yes, and I’m helping out with one of those responsibilities,” Becca reminded her. “That should earn me a few minutes of your time.” Standing, she held Elle at arm’s length, her touch familiar and comforting. “Is it Max?”
How did she do that? Of course she nailed it in one guess.
“Why would you think that?” She knew her mother harbored hopes for Elle to settle into a committed relationship, but her mother knew how she felt about sportsmen, so she couldn’t imagine Max inspiring much optimism in that regard.
“Perhaps because you couldn’t take your eyes off each other during Walter’s party? You can fool a lot of people, kiddo, but not me. It was clear the chemistry between you wasn’t all hostility.”
“You are so wrong.” Elle sank back into her seat. “He’s done nothing but use me. And that ends today.”
“Oh, baby. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“No.” Instant denial rolled off her tongue. Then she threw herself down and knocked her head on the table repeatedly. “Yes. How could I be such a fool?”
“Honey, love makes fools of all of us at some point.”
“Not helpful, Mom.”
“How about this—I saw the way he looked at you, how he stepped forward to protect you. Believe me, he’s not a disinterested party.”
“It’s not personal. That’s just how he is. He cares more than people give him credit for. He’s smart and competitive and he’s really trying with Troy. But—” she shook her head “—so damaged. I don’t think he can let a woman close.”
“I’m telling you, you aren’t in this alone. Have a little patience. Everything that’s going on with Troy must have Max tied in knots right now. I’m sure he’s a little defensive, a little leery.”
“Oh yeah. Hot and cold.” If Elle put her hurt aside, she supposed dealing with Amber could trigger evasive-action tendencies.
“Exactly. He made a life-altering mistake. Yes, it gave him Troy, but right now that just doubles the ramifications of future mistakes.”
“And I’m a future mistake.” Last night hadn’t felt like a mistake, but this morning, sitting at her mom’s table in yesterday’s clothes—sans panties—felt a whole lot different.
“I’m not saying that.” Becca put the back of her hand against Elle’s brow. “Are you feeling okay? Your cheeks just went bloodred.”
Ducking away from her mom’s hand, Elle crossed her legs.
“He plays the piano, a beautiful grand piano that he has in his living room.” She lifted stark eyes and met her mother’s concerned gaze. “He has season tickets to the symphony.”
“Oh, baby.” Understanding softened Becca’s eyes as she tucked a piece of hair behind Elle’s ear.
“I know you like to have everything organized and orderly, but love is messy. I urge you to embrace the experience. Don’t shut him out when he may need you most.”
“What about what I need? Doesn’t that count?”
“Of course you matter. I want you to be happy more than anything in the world. But the truth is you come from a loving family. For all you’ve been focused on your career instead of finding a husband, you know what love is. You’re capable of opening your heart to someone. From what you say, Max hasn’t known a lot of love in his life. It may not be a matter of he can’t let anyone close as much as he doesn’t know how.”
* * *
Max stepped out of Coach’s office from the first of the many meetings he’d committed to as the interim captain and ran into Hank and Jaden in the hall.
“Max.” Hank raised his hand for a high five. “Heard the news, man, congratulations. The team is in good hands.”
“They got the wrong man, if you ask me,” Jaden declared. “They should have asked me.”
“Maybe in ten years,” Max responded, unoffended. “Once you’ve chipped off some of that ego.”
“Take note, old man,” Jaden scoffed. “It’s not ego if you’ve got the skills.”
“Get your stick out of your ass, Jaden. Yeah, you’re good, but you’re playing with the big boys now. We’re all good. So leave your attitude in the locker room because on the ice we’re a team.”
Jaden puffed up. “Hey, you can’t—”
“Yeah, I can.” Max calmly cut him off. “Listen, I’m the biggest loner in this pack, but even I know that on the ice we’re a team.”
“Jaden, bro, you need to hear him.” Hank shuffled his big body from foot to foot.
Resistance shouted from Jaden’s towering frame.
Max stayed in control. “Do you want the Stanley Cup or not?”
Jaden gave a sharp nod. “You know it.”
“Well, you can’t get it alone. The team needs your mind on the game, not hotshotting. If you can’t do that, Bates can.”
“Bates? He’s older than you!”
“He’s a solid player and puts the team first. And that will be my recommendation to Coach.” Max glanced at his watch. “On the ice in twenty. Come to win.”
* * *
“Elle, you’re off the Beasley issue.” Ray stood in her office doorway later that morning. “Meeting for the Wish upon a Puck Gala, my office, thirty minutes.”
“Wait.” She hurried after him. “What do you mean I’m off the Beasley issue? Why?”
“He said he doesn’t need any more help.” He kept walking.
Elle caught up to him. “But Amber got back last night. She made quite a scene at his place when she tried to take Troy back.” Max might be on her hit list but Troy deserved all the protection they could give him. “Now is when he needs us most.”
“He says different. And I need your help with the Gala.” He stopped, gave her a pat on the arm. “Max said to thank you, Elle, that you did a good job.” With that he turned into his office and closed his door.
Elle made her way back to her desk. Sank into her chair. Max had fired her. And then had given her a glowing review. He might as well have written up her pink slip. Because, of course, Ray had to know they’d slept together.
And Max didn’t even have the courtesy to tell her to her face.
She shouldn’t care. Hadn’t wanted to do the job in the first place. But last night had changed things between them. She understood if he didn’t want to continue working with her. Making love had crossed a line. But be a man. Have the guts to tell her himself.
But then, he had a history of walking away with no word. She should have known this was where they would end up. But knowing didn’t ease the pain. Actually, knowledge made it worse, because the man she’d grown to know wouldn’t hurt her in this way.
Which just served to confuse her more.
Putting him from her mind, she brooded for twenty minutes over a press release Jenna had given to her to proof before giving up and heading to Ray’s office for the meeting. He looked up with a stern expression and her heart sank into her stomach.
“Close the door,” he said.
Not a good sign. She expected others for the meeting so this must be something else. She slid into one of his visitor chairs.
“What’s happened?” she demanded. This was no time to go soft.
“I take it you haven’t seen the tabloids this morning?” He moved a file and exposed a colorful print magazine.
Her hand shook as she reached for it, so she quickly set it on the desk in front of her. Mortification sliced deep as she read the blaring headline: Beauties Fight Over The Beast.
Amber must have had a photographer with her last night, someone taking pictures through the glass sliding doors of the patio. The photo showed a zoom shot of Amber slapping Elle while Max stood in the background holding Troy. In a smaller shot she and Amber appeared to be struggling.
It was bad, really bad.
She kept her head down, pretending to read while truthfully she couldn’t meet Ray’s gaze.
She should be fired. Part of her job included watching the tabloids for references to the team or players and letting Ray know so they could get in front of the problem.
Actually appearing in a front-page scandal? There was no excuse, no explanation, that made it all right. Worse, she’d been so caught up in self-pity she hadn’t even followed her regular routine and been on top of the mess.
“Ra—” Nothing came out so she cleared her throat, tried again. “Ray, I—”
“Before we go into all that, are you okay?”
Now she couldn’t see him for the tears in her eyes. She blinked them back; a professional didn’t cry.
“Yes.” She found her hand had gone to her sore cheek and she carefully returned it to the desktop. “I’m sorry I wasn’t on top of this. We had no idea anyone was with Amber. There were no flashes to signal a photographer was lurking outside. But that’s no excuse. I should have checked the tabloids this morning. I’ll have my resignation on—”
“What? Whoa.” Ray held up a hand, his bushy eyebrows nearly meeting in a scowl. “I don’t want to hear anything about a resignation. We knew it would get ugly with Amber, but Max didn’t tell me it got physical. No wonder he cut you loose. If he hadn’t, I would have pulled you anyway. Now I get why he was so concerned.”
“But—”
“No argument, Elle. I won’t put you in harm’s way.”
“I appreciate that, but I actually won that altercation. And Max still needs our help.”
“I didn’t say we wouldn’t continue to help him. The players don’t have to ask for the team to help with public relations.” Ray considered her and then nodded. “Max will get the help he needs, but it won’t be you. Stay clear of him until this blows over. We don’t want to give the press anything more to work with.”
“That won’t be a problem,” she assured him wholeheartedly. “His nanny arrives tomorrow.”
“Good. Keep your distance.” He swept up the tabloid, tapped the picture. “Amber blew it with this picture, shows her as the aggressor. That’s a mistake we can capitalize on.” He dropped the magazine in a desk drawer and waved to the people waiting in the hall. “Now on to the Gala.”
As the room filled with people,
Elle sank back in her seat. Keep her distance? Yeah, she could do that.
Right after she reclaimed her panties.
* * *
If it was the last thing she did, Elle would hunt Maxwell Beasley down and rip out his heart.
He’d promised Walter he’d come to his hockey practice today, but he was a no-show. Damn him.
She could handle his rejection; she was an adult. Walter was just a boy. He didn’t understand Max had better places to be, better people to see.
“I’m sorry, Adam. I should never have brought him to the party.”
She stood next to her brother on the sideline in an oversize jersey with her hair tucked up in a Thunders’ cap, incognito, in order to speak to the rotter who hadn’t bothered to show. This was the line for her. He could hurt her; she should have known better than to let him close. But don’t mess with her family.
Walter idolized Max without realizing why the man inherited the moniker The Beast. Walter was an innocent and it killed her he was being hurt because of her. He deserved so much better.
“Don’t sweat it.” Adam knocked the bill of her cap down over her eyes. “I’ll take them out for pizza. They’ll get over it.”
She cringed. “So he told the whole team?”
“Of course. They’ve been talking about it all week.”
“I’m going to kill him, you know.” She gritted through clenched teeth.
“Like you took on that Amber chick? He should be shaking in his skates.”
Oh, no. Already it was starting. She’d fended off calls from each of her brothers this morning, assuring them she was fine and explaining she’d taken care of business. But she knew her brothers, knew if she didn’t stop it now, she’d be razzed endlessly about being taken down in front of all America.
So not going to happen.
In no mood to be teased she turned narrowed eyes on him. In a flash she snapped her hand out and grabbed his finger in the dragon-toe grip.
“Ow, ouch.” He squirmed next to her, wanting to pull away but knowing it would only make it worse. He gave her a stern look. “Mom said you weren’t supposed to use the grip anymore.”