by Mary Manners
Oh, she hoped the anchor wouldn’t reveal himself as the highest bidder for a date with her. The idea mortified her, and the mischievous gleam in his muddy-brown eyes was disturbing. She cringed at the thought and sent up a quick prayer for a more positive outcome. A date with anyone but him—anyone at all—and she’d be good with it.
Lexi wiggled freshly-painted toes in the strappy sandals that hugged her feet. The shoes were new, and a bit too tight, and she wished now she’d worn her older, comfortable pair with the little black knee-length sheath she’d found on sale at Belks. But she wanted to look her best, and if it meant nursing sore feet she’d just have to bite the bullet. If this auction went well, perhaps they’d make it an annual event. The total bids had climbed to a healthy five-figure amount, enough to get spring programs for the kids off to a promising start.
Now it was time to pay up, and she was determined to do her part. Visions of Lynette and Lucy, rambunctious eleven-year-old twin sisters with wheat-blonde hair and a spattering of freckles across their button noses, sprang into her head. They’d begun coming to the center a few weeks ago when their mom’s nursing shift changed to evenings and their dad picked up extra overtime as a UPS delivery driver to make ends meet. Now, instead of riding the bus to an empty house each afternoon, they got dropped off at the center, where they found help with their homework and supervised gym time with new friends.
The anchor stood two women away, and the rank odor of sweat laced the air. Lexi fought the urge to pinch her nose as he drew closer. She felt a little light-headed beneath the bright studio lights. They were hot, and annoying beads of moisture pooled at the nape of her neck as her heart galloped. Oh, why had she ever let Renee talk her into this crazy scheme?
Because of the kids. She glanced at Andy, waiting in the wings to her left. He flashed a rare grin, thrilled as he followed the evening edition sportscaster through a private tour of the studio. Soon, he’d do a mock-up newscast in front of the green screen while she was sequestered with the sweaty anchor and his female co-anchor, like a prisoner on death-row awaiting her fate.
For kids like Andy. Yeah, she could do this. This was a walk in the park compared to the challenges they faced on a daily basis. She drew a deep breath and willed her heart to stop racing. Get a grip. Don’t be a wimp.
****
Cooper leaned against the studio wall to ease the weight off his aching knee. The painkillers he’d downed before leaving the apartment had kicked the pain back to a dull roar, but they made him feel a bit lightheaded.
Or maybe his head swam from the sight of Lexi on the monitor. She was a vision in a sassy little black sleeveless dress that offset sleek blonde hair and long, sculpted legs. She must still be an avid runner. No woman got legs like that unless she worked for them.
He waited while the slim, dark-haired woman seated to the right of Lexi was introduced to her mystery date. Awkward smiles all around, a few murmured greetings, and they exited the stage.
He was up next. It was a good thing he’d checked the auction site at the last minute. Some guy had outbid him by five hundred bucks. Imagine that! He made a statement by upping his bid to fifteen thousand, which ought to impress Lexi. It was an iron-clad number. He didn’t know much—anything, really—about the organization she’d founded with her friend, Renee, called Thursday’s Child, but he knew fifteen-K was a lot more than most people could afford to part with. No way he’d get outbid tossing that kind of money around.
He watched the anchor lean into Lexi a little too closely. The guy had a smug look on his face and belly rolls like a Shar-Pei puppy. Something in his watery eyes told Cooper he thought he had won the bid. Well, wouldn’t he be shocked?
Lexi would be shocked, too. His gut suddenly soured, and his knee throbbed. Maybe this was a mistake. They hadn’t seen each other in more than six years, hadn’t so much as spoken a handful of words since that awful night.
He’d been such a jerk to her…so callous. Even now, his gut clenched into a tight knot as words echoed through his mind.
“Talk to me, Cooper.” Lexi’s chocolate eyes melted in a pool of tears. “I thought you had another week before you had to leave.”
“I do…but I should go now. I need to get settled in.” He turned away from her and set his gaze to the mountains in the distance, turning smoky-pink beneath a dusky sky. “Besides, I’m suffocating here, Lex.”
“Suffocating?” She choked on the word. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re putting too much pressure on me, Lex. I can’t love you the way you want me to—need me too. I’ve just got too much on my plate right now.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath. “So that’s how it is, Cooper? After everything we’ve shared...I’m just another item on your plate?” She strode around to plant herself in front of him, and one glance at the tears cascading down her cheeks made him wish he could take the words back.
“I just mean—”
“Forget it, Cooper. You’ve made it more than clear exactly how you feel.” She turned her back to him and crossed her arms tight over her belly. The tremble in her shoulders matched her voice. “Just go, then. Your plate is clean, at least as far as I’m concerned. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”
Realization smacked him like a sucker-punch as he took another look at Lexi waiting on the stage. This wasn’t the football field he was playing on, and the studio crowd hadn’t come to watch him run his famous million-dollar plays. This was a benefit for underprivileged kids, something obviously close to Lexi’s heart. What was he thinking, coming here trying to buy his way into a date with her?
Good grief, what have I done?
****
Lexi wished the anchor would stop panting. His breath smelled like boiled eggs beneath the bright, hot studio lights. It was amazing, just how much the TV could hide.
She drew a deep breath and held it as he stepped in front of her. He shuffled a handful of crisp index-sized cue cards scribbled with notes as his leering gaze met hers. His voice dripped with suspense. “Lexi Taylor, co-founder of Thursday’s Child, are you ready to meet your date?”
“I...um...” About as ready as I am to have a root canal without anesthesia. Note to self: Have it out with Renee at the first opportunity.
He glanced at the cue-cards, and his smile suddenly turned under, like a sail deflating. His eyes narrowed and his nose did a rabbit scrunch as he muttered, “This can’t be right.”
The female co-anchor gave him a not-so-gentle nudge and leaned over to glance at the card, which he promptly removed from her view. She urged, “Hey, the suspense is killing us, Art. Who’s the lucky guy?”
He drew a ragged breath as he plastered on a billboard smile and stared directly into the camera. His voice held steady, unlike the trembling hand that clenched into a fist at his side, out of the camera’s view. “Why, he’s none other than Knoxville’s very own hometown hero, the all-star quarterback who once led the University of Tennessee to an SEC championship and a Sugar Bowl win.” He gestured dramatically toward the wings and threw his arms wide. “Cooper Jackson, come on out. Your generous fifteen-thousand dollar bid has won you a date with the beautiful Lexi Taylor.”
Cooper Jackson...no, it can’t be. Wake up, wake up! The room began to whirl and harsh lights danced before Lexi’s eyes. She blinked hard once, twice, and heard a flurry of movement to her left. Then he strode out. He had to duck to clear a microphone suspended from the ceiling, and his height shaded the lights, easing the glare that burned her eyes. His dark hair was a bit shorter than she remembered, but it still fell in tousled waves across intense, smoky-gray eyes.
The years had added muscle—lots of it. And he flashed the same ‘I can get out of anything’ grin that had melted her the first time they’d met, back in the school lunchroom in sixth grade, when he’d tried to swap his warm, stinky tuna fish on squashed white bread for the turkey and cheddar on wholegrain her mom had packed along with juicy red seedless grapes and a homemad
e frosted fudge brownie. That grin wouldn’t work its magic on her anymore. No way in...
“Hello, Lexi.”
Her insides turned to ice. His voice was deep, coaxing, just as she remembered. She sat paralyzed, speechless. Every thought flew from her mind. She gripped the armrests of the chair like life preservers on a sinking Titanic.
“What’s wrong with her?” Andy’s sneakers thumped the studio floor and the room rocked wildly as she tried to stand.
“Somebody catch her.” The co-anchor rushed over to fan her face with a cue card. “Bring some water, Art. Let’s go to commercial break.”
****
“You’re Cooper Jackson.” Andy’s eyes grew round with amazement as he followed Cooper down the hall.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
They made their way to the lobby of the news studio, on the parking level. Outside, rush-hour traffic raced up and down Kingston Pike as people scurried home from work.
“For real.” Andy’s voice grated on Lexi’s nerves like rough-grade sandpaper. She wished he’d just be quiet and keep walking. “You’re really him. Wow, can I have your autograph?”
“Sure.” Cooper had the audacity to grin. “How about a picture, too?”
Andy paused to rock back on his heels. “You have a camera?”
“Not on me, but this is a news station. I’m sure we can round up a camera and some film.”
“Cool.” Andy turned to her. “Aunt Lexi, toss me a pen and some paper from your purse.”
“No.” She shook her head, clutching the handbag to her chest. She still felt warm and a bit nauseated, as if her insides were filled with hot peppers. “Not now, Andy. Go wait in the car.”
His eyes clouded with confusion. “But—”
“I said, not now.” She fumbled through the purse and tossed him the car keys. “You remember where we parked?”
“Of course. Right beside that sweet red Mustang.” He turned to Cooper. “Hey, is that your Mustang?”
“Maybe...yes.”
“Wow. Can I sit in it? I’ll bet you’ve got an awesome stereo. I’ll bet—”
Lexi stomped one spike-heeled foot and pointed toward the door. “Andy. The car. Now. And don’t get any ideas. Just unlock it and get in. I’ll be out in a minute.”
He sighed. “Radio?”
“And nothing else.”
“Whatever.” He tossed the keys into the air, caught them with a jangle before heading through automatic double doors into the parking lot. He turned back to Cooper before the doors slipped closed. “Can I get an autograph later?”
“Sure, and we’ll play some ball, too, OK?”
“Promise?”
“You bet.”
“Cool.” There was a bounce in Andy’s step as he loped toward the Kia.
“You shouldn’t have told him that.” Lexi’s face burned as she watched him unlock the passenger door and slide in. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t plan to keep.”
“Who said I don’t plan to keep my promise?”
“Prior history, Cooper.” She strode across the room, arms crossed in a death grip. “A less-than-pristine track record.”
“Lexi, please.” He limped after her. She took pity, slowed a step or two. And it irked her that she should feel any sympathy for him whatsoever. He’d certainly shown her none when she’d needed it the most. “I shouldn’t have blindsided you. I—”
“Save the football terminology. You had no right to do this, Cooper.” Her chin came up, and she felt mortified when her bottom lip began to tremble. She bit down hard, drew a breath. “Thousands of men live in this town. Thousands of men have the Internet and money—OK, maybe not that kind of money. Anyway, why did it have to be...you?”
“It was an honest bid. I’m just trying to help you out.”
She crossed her arms again, glared at him.
“OK, OK. I saw you on TV and I just...well, I thought...”
Irritation danced up her spine. It made her uncomfortable to see him squirm. On TV, when he was interviewed after games, he always sounded so sure, so in control. Cooper Jackson was the man every woman in America wanted...everyone but her. “I’ll take the money, Cooper. It will go a long way towards funding our upcoming programs for the Thursday’s Child kids. But the date with you…well…no. It’s just not gonna happen.”
“So you’re reneging?” He shook his head and his eyes narrowed with disappointment.
Lexi bowed up. “Call it what you want. I’m not going on a date with you, Cooper. No way.” His guilt trip certainly wouldn’t work on her. Maybe six years ago...but not now.
“I never knew you to be a quitter, Lex.”
That fueled the fire. “You want to talk about quitting? Take a look in the mirror, Cooper.”
A hand flew to cover his chest. “Ouch, you wound me.”
“Save the theatrics for your post-game interviews.”
“Wow.” He removed his suit jacket and tugged loose the tie that appeared to strangle him. Muscles tensed beneath a navy form-fitting button-down dress shirt that deepened the gray of his eyes. He’d lost that little-boy look, the lankiness that had followed him through high school and most of college, but his eyes still radiated familiar mischief beneath tufts of dark hair she used to love running her fingers through. She forced her gaze away, swallowed hard and lowered her eyes to the strappy sandals that had her feet screaming with a full-blown ache. “No comment.”
“Suits me just fine.” She spun on one heel and turned her back to him. “Andy’s waiting for me. I have to go.”
“But we’re not finished here.”
She halted mid-stride, swung back to glare at him. “Oh, we’re finished, Cooper. We were finished that night you walked out on me. You remember that, don’t you?”
His gaze flickered, and his eyes darkened from smoky gray to coal-black in an instant. “How could I forget?” He reached into the back pocket of his neatly-pressed khakis and pulled out a piece of paper. With a flourish, he unfolded it and muttered under his breath as he scanned the print. “Here it is, in plain black and white.” His gaze rose to challenge hers. “Read it for yourself, if you don’t believe me.”
“What?”
He jabbed the paper with an index finger. “Says right here in the fine print—no date, no payment.” He turned the paper to show her, and a smug grin accompanied the tapping. “So, what’s it gonna be, Lex?”
She felt like ripping the paper from his hand and shredding it, but stifled the urge by drawing a deep breath and counting to five very slowly. When she spoke, the calm tone of her voice masked the rage building like a tidal wave about to unleash its fury.
“You mean...?” She gaped at him in disbelief. Surely, he couldn’t be serious. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you? Take back what you’ve already given?”
Just like he’d done before—when he left her twisting in the wind instead of taking her with him, her heart shattered on the floor in a million aching pieces. It seemed to be the Cooper Jackson trademark move.
His eyes were pleading, and he jammed one hand into the pocket of his khakis. “Just one date, Lex. What we have...isn’t finished.”
“What we had”— She enunciated the word.—“is finished.” She bit her bottom lip, felt her eyes burn with tears that were fighting to punch their way out. “But I can’t let you take all that money back. Thursday’s Child needs it. The kids need it.” She turned away for a moment, drew another deep, cleansing breath and closed her eyes, prayed for strength and the patience to refrain from ripping his head off right there in the lobby.
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. The words washed over her, calmed her, gently reminded her who she was...who she’d become during the six years he’d been gone.
“OK, Cooper. Have it your way. But not tonight—no date tonight.” She eyed the parking lot, where Andy sang along with the radio blasting at full volume. If she didn’t get out of there quick, the police were liable to respond to a disturbin
g the peace complaint. “Call the Thursday’s Child office tomorrow. The number’s in the phone book. A bright guy like you should have no problem finding it. Ask for Renee. She’ll set things up. Now, I really have to go.”
She didn’t wait for a reply. The spiky heels on her sandals spat like gunfire across polished tile as she strode through double-glass doors without so much as a glance back.
Safe in the car, her breath escaped in a loud gush. She’d call Renee as soon as she got home, lay down stringent guidelines. If Cooper wanted to hold his donation ransom in exchange for a date, he’d get his date. One date...something during daylight hours...in a heavily populated area...safe.
One date...and nothing more.
3
Well, he’d certainly made a mess of things.
Cooper sighed as he watched Lexi drive from the parking lot. She gunned the car’s engine a little too hard, pulled into traffic a little too fast—certainly not setting a great example for the towheaded kid riding shotgun. And it was his fault.
He’d managed to hurt her—again.
He rubbed his chin, felt the five-o’clock shadow that had sprung to life along his jaw. Maybe he’d just mail his check into the Thursday’s Child office and forget the whole date thing. After all, he didn’t need to pay for a date, or force a female into one. He had a mile-long line waiting at the Jaguar’s locker room, women throwing themselves at him every time he left the field. It was almost comical—really.
But Lexi was different...always had been. Their friendship went way back. She was the first kid he talked to when he transferred schools in the sixth grade. And over the years, what began as an awkward friendship became more...so much more. What had he been thinking to act like such an idiot the night he’d walked out on her? Sure, back then he had nothing to offer her but hopes and a farfetched dream. She’d needed more, wanted more—she’d certainly made that clear—and he didn’t have it to give. There was nothing secure in his pursuit of an NFL career, no guarantees of what tomorrow might bring. And she’d longed for security. So he’d left—just like that.
