Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance

by Jami Davenport

  Even though the reporter’s story made perfect sense, doubt picked at him like a kid nagging his mother for a new toy. Something wasn’t right. Someone wasn’t giving him the straight story. Every instinct screaming through him pointed at Kelsie being in some sort of trouble, but Kelsie’s trouble wasn’t his, and he’d be smart to stay away. Far away.

  Zach rammed his fists into the steering wheel, fearing he might just make it his business to find out.

  And knowing he’d be the biggest loser of all if he did.

  CHAPTER 3

  Taking a Time Out

  Veronica Simms, the team owner’s daughter and assistant director of player personnel, stared at the nitwit standing in her office doorway. “A trench coat and a fedora? Are you serious?”

  “Uh, what’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”

  “You look like a freaking idiot. Just dress like a normal person. Anyone who saw you lurking around would be suspicious.” She sighed, wishing she’d never called the first investigative agency in the phonebook and done more research.

  “You won’t think I’m an idiot once you hear what I found out.” He pulled a manila folder from his coat with a flourish and laid it on her desk. “You asked me to research that woman’s connection to Zach Murphy.”

  Veronica shuffled through the papers, greedy for any details she could use against the linebacker. A slow smile spread across her face. “They were high school classmates? She’s been married to a prominent Texas attorney for ten years, and now she comes looking for Murphy?”

  “That’s right. There’s a story there.”

  Veronica couldn’t agree more. She sat back in her chair and digested the information. Kelsie Carrington-Richmond, former beauty queen, glamour wife, and now Ms. Manners, might be the key to getting Zach off the team once and for all.

  Since Veronica had been a little girl, she’d been wrapped up in the team, banning any item from her room that wasn’t navy and gold. She fought like a tigress to convince her father to let her work for the Lumberjacks and climbed up the ranks, starting as a part-time receptionist during her college years.

  Nothing mattered to Veronica but the team. Nothing. Zach Murphy was a has-been, a mistake. His public dislike of Tyler Harris would fester like an infected sore until it raged out of control and took the entire team down with it. Except her father and HughJack wouldn’t listen to her. She’d make them listen and find a way to get rid of Murphy in the process.

  Perhaps she’d just been given the ammunition to do that.

  “Keep an eye on them.” She waved the PI out the door and fingered the business card Tyler Harris left earlier in her office. With a sly smile, she picked up her phone and dialed.

  * * * *

  Sometimes when life beats you down to nothing, something good happens and hope springs back like a lone flower after a desert rain, at least Kelsie wanted to believe life worked like that.

  Summoned to Jacks’ headquarters by Veronica Simms, Kelsie pulled into the parking lot a few minutes before seven p.m. Apparently, the woman worked some long hours. Several cars still occupied the far end of the lot near what she suspected was the player entrance. She wondered if Zach’s vehicle might be among them.

  As she got out of her car, a sedan parked alone on the side street caught her eye. Surely, she was imagining things, but she swore the dark sedan was the same one she’d seen the last couple days. A chill ran down her spine. She resisted the urge to run, tear out of there and never look back, but she couldn’t. Opportunity knocked, the needle on her gas gauge flirted shamelessly with empty, and she’d run out of options.

  Kelsie might be a lot of things, but she was a fighter despite years of emotional abuse at the hands of her ex and her parents. They’d rammed home her weaknesses, torn her down, and forced her to become a walking–talking robot programmed to behave perfectly in any social situation.

  Over a year ago, she’d walked into her posh home in a trendy neighborhood. Strange noises lured her into the master bedroom. Mark, his mistress, and another couple writhed together on the large king bed, a tangle of arms and legs. When Mark looked up and spotted her, his total disregard drove the final stake in her marriage and her self-esteem. She ran from the house, leaving everything behind except her miniature poodle Scranton. Her parents demanded that she return and behave like the dutiful wife they’d raised her to be. They’d believed Mark’s lies about her.

  Since then she’d hit rock bottom more than once, but through it all she clung to her dignity and tattered pride, the only thing they hadn’t stripped from her, and the only thing she hadn’t stripped from Zach all those years ago. Yeah, karma was a bitch.

  In high school, rich, spoiled Kelsie had been a mean girl. So strong was her need to belong to the popular girl crowd, she did everything uber-popular Marcela Winsley dared her to do, too afraid to stand up to her and jeopardize her standing with the in-crowd. When Marcela dared her to invite Zach to the country club ball, she’d done it.

  Her friends teased Zach about his outdated, poorly fitted suit, scuffed shoes, and clumsy attempts to fit in with their class of people, and Kelsie joined in. At first, he’d taken their abuse with barely a reaction except for a twitch in his jaw and the hurt in his eyes, a hurt which haunted her even sixteen years later. She’d almost broken him that night with her cruelty and betrayal, and she’d never forgiven herself.

  She owed him an apology. A big one. She doubted what she was about to do would earn her any points with him, but it might just be for his own good.

  With one last glance in the direction of the mysterious sedan, Kelsie walked purposefully across the rain-soaked parking lot to the main double doors. Security let her in and escorted her to a small cramped office upstairs, not quite the space she’d expected for the owner’s daughter.

  Veronica waved her in, all business, and dressed in a severe black suit with her hair pulled back tightly in a bun. “Have a seat.”

  Kelsie sat, clutching a folder that outlined her program. “I’m so grateful to have this opportunity.” She bit the side of her cheek to staunch the desperation seeping into her voice.

  “Cut the crap. We both know why you’re here. Two words. Zach Murphy.” Veronica leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest and studied Kelsie with a look that dissected her every weakness.

  Kelsie gripped the folder tighter and breathed in and out through her nose. In. Out. In. Out. She’d known this was coming. Under any other circumstances, she’d refuse the job. Only she couldn’t. Truth be told, she’d always harbored a bit of a crush on the rough yet kind boy who’d followed her like a faithful hound all through high school. Not only did she need the money, but she needed to help Zach whether he appreciated it or not.

  “Yes, Zach, I’m familiar with him. We attended high school together.”

  Veronica didn’t look the least bit impressed. Kelsie didn’t like the woman one bit, yet she recognized the sad truth. Kelsie had been this woman once. Selfish and driven. Wealthy and spoiled. Inconsiderate and cruel. She so did not want to be like her now.

  “I believe he could benefit from my Finishing School for Real Men.” Kelsie sat up straighter and hid her insecurities behind her beauty-queen smile.

  Veronica snorted. “This coming from the woman who dumped a tray of drinks on the state’s first lady and me.”

  “Ms. Simms, that was an accident. I’m gravely sorry.” Panic slithered through her. She took another deep breath and called upon all those skills learned through years of beauty pageant interviews. She hadn’t been crowned Miss South Texas for nothing.

  “Call me Veronica. I’m sure you are sorry. It was obviously that nitwit’s fault.” Veronica’s lip curled in disgust. She really had an issue with Zach.

  Kelsie bit back a retort, almost rising to Zach’s defense. Only she didn’t, and here she’d thought she’d come a long way toward being a better person. God forgive her. She’d make it up to Zach later along with her other transgressions. Veronica would kick
her out of this office on her butt if she showed any sympathy toward the team’s socially inept linebacker.

  Willing her hands not to shake, Kelsie pulled some papers from the folder. “Here’s my résumé. As you can see, I’m quite well-versed in etiquette.”

  “You were runner-up to Miss Texas?”

  “Yes. I’ve been on the beauty pageant circuit since I was a child. I’m an experienced public speaker along with—”

  “Why were you working as a banquet server?” Veronica’s violet eyes narrowed to glittering slits.

  Kelsie cleared her throat and decided the truth was best. “I’ve just come to town after a divorce, and I’m still trying to establish myself.”

  Veronica leafed through the remaining papers and tapped a long fingernail on her desk. “It’s no secret I want Zach off the team. He’s not a good fit for the Lumberjacks. Unfortunately, those decisions aren’t made by me so I have to work with what I’m given.”

  “I’m positive I can help Zach with his social skills.” She’d help Zach and help her business out, a perfect way to make amends. Now if only he’d see that angle.

  “One thousand now and two thousand more when the task is completed to my satisfaction. If it’s not, the up-front money is to be refunded to the Lumberjacks’ organization.”

  “Certainly.” Kelsie nodded vigorously, as her stomach growled at the thought of a decent meal. “What exactly is the task?”

  She held her breath and waited. Veronica wasted no time telling her.

  A few hours later, Kelsie drove to a small community park on Lake Washington within walking distance of Lumberjacks headquarters, and parked in the lot under a streetlight. Tomorrow she’d cash her check, find a cheap room to rent, and eat a big meal.

  After a dinner of crackers—her last box—and water from the tap in the women’s bathroom, she took one last look around the area. No sedan in sight. Rolling towels up in the side windows, she placed a sun shield on the dash for privacy, as much as you can get in a public parking lot. A few minutes later, she fell into a disturbing sleep filled with shadowy figures and visions of a shaggy-haired football player with sad brown eyes.

  * * * *

  With more than a little reluctance, Zach walked into Coach Hubert Jackson’s office, aka HughJack. HughJack sat behind his desk looking grumpy and out of sorts. The defensive coordinator, a big, burly guy known as Rocky, sat in one of the chairs in front of the head coach’s huge desk.

  The short but formidable HughJack was one of the few men that struck fear in Zach’s heart. But then the guy possessed the power of life and death over Zach’s career. Younger guys vied for his spot as starting middle linebacker, and Zach hung on by a shoelace. They breathed down his neck every time he stepped on the field, gobbling up his every word of advice and using it to their advantage to one day win his job.

  One more season. Just one more season to earn that elusive ring. That’s all Zach needed. He’d do whatever it took, even dealing with the team’s asshole quarterback. Well, almost anything. Playing nice with the quarterback might be taking it too far, yet he knew he had to figure out a way to get beyond his animosity toward Harris.

  “Coach, you wanted to talk to me?”

  “Yeah, sit down.” HughJack motioned to the empty chair across from his desk and next to Rocky.

  Zach sat down, certain whatever they wanted couldn’t be good, and just as certain Harris was behind it. He clenched his hands on his thighs and took a deep breath.

  “So Zach, that little performance at the charity ball last week couldn’t come at a worse time. We’re heading into our second regular season game, and every team in the NFL is gunning for us. We don’t need this kind of distraction.”

  “It’s not a distraction. It’s long past.”

  “Maybe for you, but the front office doesn’t see it that way.” HughJack stood and paced the floor. The guy was a frigging perpetual motion machine, never sat down for more than a few seconds.

  “Uh, Zach, you groped the governor’s wife.” One corner of Rocky’s mouth twitched, as if he found it amusing. Zach didn’t find humiliation the least bit amusing.

  “Veronica wants your hide and Mr. Simms is livid. I convinced him you were salvageable. Veronica’s not so convinced, and you know she wields almost as much power as her father does.”

  Boy, did he know that. Zach kept his distance from the ball-busting witch. “It was an accident.”

  “Yeah, just like it was an accident that you toweled off the first lady’s boobs? And just like when you told the host of the local sports radio show that he was as annoying as a tick and just as smart? And how about last week when you belched on a national TV interview? Hell, you’ve only been here a few months, and you’ve already gained a reputation as a backwards redneck with the manners of a gorilla.”

  “I’m sorry.” Zach stared at his hands. He didn’t get the social rules and crap like that. He tried, but he just kept screwing up.

  “Things have to change, and like it or not we have a solution.”

  Zach looked up. His throat dried up like grass during a Texas summer. He held his breath, waiting for the barbell to drop and his career with the Lumberjacks to be crushed beneath the weight of his social ineptness.

  “You’re going to charm school.”

  “I’m what?”

  “Charm school. You’re going to learn social graces if it kills you.” HughJack grinned, and Rocky snorted, as if this was fucking funny.

  “Like hell I am.” Zach sat up straight and squared his shoulders.

  “You have two choices. Charm school or be traded.”

  “Then trade me.” Zach wouldn’t play these stupid-assed games just to make the rich owner and his bitchy daughter happy. It was bullshit. They signed him to play football, not waste his time on some pansy-assed thing like this.

  “You might want to reconsider when you find out what team is interested.”

  “What team?” Dread filled Zach right down to his size-fourteen feet.

  “The Marauders.” HughJack paused in his pacing and waited.

  “No. You’ve got to be kidding?” The very name Marauders struck fear in any player’s heart, especially one possibly playing in his last season.

  “There’s not a big market for linebackers of your age and salary, Zach.” Rocky shot him a sympathetic look, and Zach knew he was hosed. Even Rocky was throwing him under the bus.

  “How long is this class?”

  “You’ll attend private sessions in the small conference room at the training facility twice a week, starting tonight at seven sharp. We’ll work around your schedule as far as games. By the way, for your graduation test, you’ll host a black-tie affair at your home, a charity gala during our bye week in December. This homeless charity is Veronica’s baby so learn your lessons well.”

  With that last kick to his ass, the men stood, excusing him.

  Zach headed for the door, not happy at all. “Fine.”

  “Don’t be late. It’s bad manners.” HughJack winked at him, and Zach fought to control his middle finger. Gritting his teeth, he walked out of the office and down the hall.

  Harris lounged against the wall a few doors down, a shit-eating grin on his face. Zach itched to wipe the floor with the bastard. Instead, he pushed past him and out the front door. Harris’s laughter followed him.

  Frustrated, Zach slammed his fist into a tree trunk. The impact jarred his arm and hurt like hell. He stared at his skinned and bloody knuckles, not giving a damn.

  Like hell did he need to attend charm school. There wasn’t a thing wrong with his manners except he didn’t have any. He was a football player, damn it, and a helluva good one. A defensive guy known for his toughness and try, not for his use of the right fork. No fucking way would he let some snooty-assed pansy lecture him on the finer points of all that bullshit social crap.

  Except—

  The Marauders. League doormats. The only team perpetually worse than his old team.

  G
etting into his truck, Zach rested his forehead against the steering wheel.

  He was so totally screwed.

  CHAPTER 4

  Charmed, I’m Sure

  Kelsie stared at the conference room door and waited for her student to arrive. She tapped her fingernails on the thick oak table then stopped herself when she realized what she was doing.

  A lady never showed impatience or revealed her weaknesses.

  In other words, never let them see you sweat. She distracted herself by studying the pictures on the wall in front of her—several scenes taken of the celebration after the Lumberjacks won their first Super Bowl. She recognized Tyler Harris holding the large trophy over his head, while his cousin, Derek Ramsey, stood nearby, one arm around Rachel, his now wife, while giving the Number One sign with his free hand. She scanned the rest of the pictures, unconsciously looking for Zach. Of course, there were none. He’d signed with the team during the off-season. Maybe at the end of this season, there’d be a new photo of Zach hoisting the coveted Lombardi. She’d like that for him. She’d followed his career over the years, cheered his victories, been saddened by his defeats, because of the guilt she’d felt over her treatment of him, she supposed.

  Her stomach churned with more than just nerves but in anticipation of seeing Zach again—as much as she hated to admit it.

  She didn’t have a clue how he’d take this new twist on his life—or maybe she did have a clue. He wouldn’t take it well, not well at all. First of all, he’d resist etiquette training with his typical determined stubbornness. Second, he’d be pretty darned upset to have her as his instructor.

  Well, Mr. Murphy, I’m not doing splits and cartwheels over working with you either, but it’s for your own good.

  Two to three long months with Zach Murphy didn’t bode well for Kelsie’s sanity or willpower. One look at the man last week, and her body screamed I want that like a spoiled kid in a toy store. As long as Zach maintained a distance, she’d be able to keep it strictly business—had to keep it that way—for his future and hers.