“Of course it is.” Roark took a deep swig of his scotch, downing half of it in one gulp.
Nadia exchanged a look with Reid. It was going to be a long night.
“So how are your folks doing, Nadia?” Roark asked conversationally.
“They’re doing well,” she answered.
“That’s good.” He poured himself more scotch. “Reid tells me your father has his own dental practice.”
Nadia smiled. “Yes, he does.”
“That’s wonderful. And your mother…” Roark trailed off, snapping his fingers as he tried to remember. “Wait, don’t tell me. Your mother’s an administrator at Presbyterian/St. Luke’s Medical Center.”
“That’s right,” Nadia confirmed, trying not to shiver as Reid caressed her nape with his thumb.
Roark crossed the room to sit on the sofa, grinning broadly at her. “I understand that twins run in your family. You have a twin brother, and so does your father.”
“Yes, sir.” Nadia grinned. “Crazy, right?”
“It’s a bit unusual.” There was a twinkle in Roark’s eyes. “Now what would be crazy is if you and Reid ended up having twins too. Then I’d probably have to call the folks at Guinness World Records.”
Nadia and Reid laughed warmly.
Arlene shifted in her chair. Her lips were pinched together, betraying her displeasure.
“So when do we get to meet—” Roark broke off as his phone rang. Holding up a finger, he pulled the mobile out of his pocket and answered the call with a hearty, “Hello there, Forrest.”
He listened for a moment, then laughed deep in his throat and drank more scotch.
When Arlene shot him a pointedly raised eyebrow, he got up and left the room. As Nadia watched him go, she couldn’t help wishing it was Reid’s mother who’d gotten the call instead. She’d take Roark’s warmth and charm any day over Arlene’s frosty demeanor.
As if she’d read her mind, Arlene gave her a thin smile. “So, Nadia, how are you enjoying your trip to Detroit so far?”
“I’m having a fabulous time,” Nadia replied, smiling at Reid. “Your son has been the perfect host.”
“I’m sure he has. It’s not every day he brings a woman home to meet the family.” Arlene’s tone suggested it should have stayed that way. “I hope you haven’t been keeping him up too late at the hotel. He needs his rest for tomorrow night’s big game.”
Reid gave her a wry look. “I’m not a child anymore, Mom. You don’t need to monitor my bedtime.”
“I know.” She gave him a motherly smile. “I just want to make sure you get enough sleep. I’d hate for you to play poorly tomorrow because you stayed up too late doing…other things.”
Nadia’s face flamed. Oh, God. Kill me now.
Reid merely chuckled, unfazed by his mother’s inappropriateness. “If it makes you feel better, Nadia and I took a nap this afternoon after we came back from sightseeing. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Nadia’s face grew hotter at the memory of their “nap,” which they’d taken after Reid fucked her against the French doors and then the floor before they managed to crawl up to the bed and collapse into a dead sleep.
“Right, baby?” Reid prompted, his eyes glinting with mischief.
“Right,” Nadia said weakly.
His mother’s eyes narrowed.
Thankfully at that moment, Roark strode back into the room, tucking his phone away. “That was Forrest Oakley,” he said to Reid.
“The textile baron?”
“Right.” Roark grinned. “When I saw him at the yacht club a few weeks ago, he told me that his grandson would be visiting the same weekend you came home. The boy just turned nine and he’s really interested in playing hockey. He’s a big fan of yours, so Forrest was wondering if you could come over and talk to him for a few minutes, give him some advice and encouragement.”
Reid frowned. “Now?”
“I know it’s an imposition,” his father said apologetically, “but you’ll be busy preparing for the game tomorrow, and the boy’s leaving on Sunday morning.”
“I understand, but—”
“We don’t have to stay long. Forrest knows we’re having a family dinner, so he didn’t want to intrude by coming over. He lives one street over on Rathmor. We could be there and back in ten minutes.” Roark’s expression turned imploring. “It would really mean a lot to Forrest and his grandson if you came over. He also hinted at giving a generous donation to the community center.”
Reid hesitated, looking at Nadia. He was clearly reluctant to leave her again.
It made her feel a little guilty. If he could spend time on his own with her father, surely she could survive a few more minutes alone with his mother.
She gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. You can go.”
He still didn’t move, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
Arlene made an exasperated sound. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Reid Tyler. I’m not going to throw your girlfriend into a boiling cauldron. She and I will be just fine.”
Reid shot her a look of veiled warning.
She blew him a kiss and shooed him off.
He touched Nadia’s knee. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” She forced a bright smile to put him at ease.
Giving her one last apologetic look, he got up and followed his father out of the room.
The moment he was gone, Arlene turned to Nadia with a smile that made her feel like a cornered canary.
“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink? I can fix you a martini or anything else you’d like.”
Although Nadia could probably use a stiff drink right now, she politely declined. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“All right,” Arlene said graciously. “If you change your mind, just let me know.”
“I will,” Nadia agreed, resisting the urge to fidget nervously on the settee.
Arlene leaned back in her chair, her hands neatly folded in her lap. “So what do you do back home in Denver?”
Nadia had a sneaking suspicion the woman already knew all about her. But she’d play along and dutifully answer her questions.
“I’m a college recruiter.”
“How nice,” Arlene said in a tone that bordered on condescending. “What college do you work for? Is it a university?”
“No,” Nadia replied. “It’s called Mountain View Community College.”
“Oh? A community college?” The criticism implicit in Arlene’s tone was not lost on Nadia. Working at a two-year college was apparently beneath the woman’s standards. “I assume you have a bachelor’s degree?”
“I do. From Northwestern.” Nadia paused. “I received a master’s in counseling from the University of Colorado.”
“Oh? You have a master’s degree?”
“I do.”
Arlene looked reluctantly impressed. “How wonderful.”
“Thank you.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
Arlene nodded slowly, appraising her features. “You look like you just graduated from college.”
If anyone else had spoken those words, Nadia would have taken it as a compliment. But Arlene made her youthful appearance sound like a flaw.
“So what do you intend to do with your master’s degree?” she inquired.
“Well,” Nadia answered, “I eventually hope to become director of recruitment, either at Mountain View or another college.”
“Really?” Arlene gave her a plastic smile. “Good for you.”
Nadia just smiled.
Arlene turned to look at the flames crackling quietly in the fireplace. She didn’t speak for several moments, lost in thought.
Nadia waited.
Finally Arlene began in a remote voice, “I met Reid’s father at the University of Michigan. I was from Grand Haven, he was from Detroit. I was a history major and an honors student. Even though I wanted to become a professor, my mother always made a point of reminding
me that she’d sent me to college to find a husband, not a career. I considered myself a feminist, so I found her views antiquated, the antithesis of women’s liberation. And then I met Roark and…I fell for him. Hard.” She shook her head and smiled, absently fingering the strand of pearls around her neck. “He wasn’t supposed to be my type. He was a hockey player, certainly not my intellectual equal. But he was kind and charming and so very romantic. He swept me right off my feet.”
Nadia smiled, enjoying Arlene’s nostalgic recollections. More of this please!
“Because he was so talented,” Arlene went on, “everyone naturally assumed he would be drafted into the NHL. When it didn’t happen, he was devastated. Utterly heartbroken. Playing professional hockey was all he’d ever wanted to do. Once that dream was shattered, he was completely lost. He didn’t know what his purpose was anymore. The only thing he was sure of was that he loved me and wanted to marry me. He took a job at Ford so he could provide for me and the big family we both wanted. Before we got married, he made it perfectly clear that he wanted me to be a stay-at-home mom. The old me would have resented him for asking me to give up my career ambitions. But I had changed in so many ways since meeting him. Love does that, you know. It challenges your perspective, makes you see life in whole new ways. Anyway, I respected Roark’s wishes because I shared his hopes and dreams for our future. We were both committed to raising a son who would grow up to become a professional hockey player.” She sighed, her gaze shifting from the fireplace to Nadia. “I think it’s important for parents to share the same vision and goals for their family. Life is so much easier when a husband and wife are on the same page.”
Nadia nodded slowly, thinking, Where is this going?
Arlene looked at her in silent speculation. “If you and Reid were to marry, he would probably want you to stay home with your children. Are you prepared to do that, Nadia? Are you willing to forfeit your career for the sake of your family? Are you prepared to devote your life to nurturing and grooming the next hockey superstar?”
Nadia swallowed nervously. “Um, well—”
“Because if you’re not willing to make the necessary sacrifices, your relationship with my son probably isn’t going to work.”
Nadia bit her lip, twisting her hands in her lap. “The thing is, Mrs. Holden, Reid and I haven’t really discussed those sort of things. Not in depth anyway.”
They had, of course. But that was nobody’s business but theirs.
“I see.” Arlene tapped her fingernails against the curved arm of her chair, observing Nadia with an assessing gleam in her eyes. “I hope you weren’t too easy for him.”
Nadia blinked, heat suffusing her face. “Excuse me?”
Arlene chuckled indulgently. “My son has always been the proverbial chick magnet. He’s used to women making themselves available to him, giving him whatever he wants. I hope you at least made him work for it.”
Nadia didn’t think her face could get any hotter. “With all due respect, Mrs. Holden,” she mumbled, “I really don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Arlene smirked. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”
Nadia met the woman’s arctic green eyes and felt chilled to the bone, but she refused to be intimidated. “Take it however you want.”
Those eyes narrowed to icy slits.
Nadia plastered on a brittle smile. “All you need to know, Mrs. Holden, is that Reid has been very good to me.”
“I’m sure he has.” Arlene gave her a look of amused condescension. “You don’t like black men?”
Caught off guard by the question, Nadia stammered, “I…I—”
“One of my closest friends is married to a black man.” Arlene gave a disdainful sniff. “To each her own, I suppose.”
Nadia bristled at the veiled insult. “I don’t have a problem with black men. How could I when some of the most important people in my life are black men?” She paused. “Reid is actually the first white boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
Arlene lifted a single eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes.”
Arlene carefully smoothed a hand over her silk dress. “Well, I suppose if you’re going to experiment, you couldn’t have chosen any better than my son.”
“I agree,” Nadia said evenly. “He’s one of a kind. But I’m not experimenting, Mrs. Holden. I love your son very much.”
Arlene gave her a patronizing smile. “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you?”
Nadia didn’t know how to respond to that. So she said nothing.
An awkward silence fell.
After several moments, Arlene sighed and pursed her lips, appearing to be deep in thought.
Nadia waited tensely. Something told her she wasn’t going to like the next words that came out of the woman’s mouth.
“You know,” Arlene began in a philosophical tone, “blue eyes are a prominent trait on Roark’s side of the family. Generations of Holden men have been blessed with those piercing blue eyes. If you and Reid were to marry and have children, in all likelihood, they wouldn’t inherit his eye color.”
Nadia shook her head slowly. “Probably not.”
Arlene sighed deeply. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world, obviously. But I think it would be a real shame to lose such a remarkable family trait.”
“Hmm.” Nadia could feel a muscle twitching above her right eye. “I’m sure Reid and I would be more concerned about the health of our children than their eye color.”
“Well, yes, of course,” Arlene said, dismissing the remark with a wave of her hand. “That goes without saying. And I’m sure your babies will be beautiful, as most biracial children seem to be. But I worry though….” She let the sentence trail off and pursed her lips.
Nadia frowned at her. “Worry about what?”
“Well, no one can deny that many blacks are naturally gifted athletes. There’s a reason they dominate so many sports, particularly basketball and football. But one sport they haven’t managed to conquer is hockey. You see, there’s a certain level of skill and coordination required to play hockey. It’s not just about speed and brute strength.” Arlene gave a lamenting sigh. “Unfortunately, I worry that your biracial children will be at a considerable disadvantage.”
Nadia narrowed her eyes. “A considerable disadvantage?”
“Yes. I fear they simply won’t have what it takes to play hockey at a high level.”
As the full meaning of her words sank in, Nadia stared at her in outraged disbelief. “What are you saying, Mrs. Holden? Are you saying that our children would be inferior hockey players just because they’re half black?”
“That’s exactly what she’s saying,” Reid growled furiously, marching into the room. “And she’s wrong. Dead fucking wrong.”
“Reid!” his mother gasped, startled by his sudden appearance. “I didn’t know you were back.”
“Obviously not.” He glared at her. “What’s this bullshit you’re spouting off to Nadia?”
His mother thrust her chin in the air. “I was merely pointing out—”
“Bullshit. What you were ‘pointing out’ is complete bullshit. Jarome Iginla and Johnny Oduya are two biracial players who’ve had successful NHL careers. P.K. Subban is fully black, and he’s considered one of the best defensemen in the league right now. So it’s absolutely insane for you to sit there running your mouth about the supposed inferiority of black hockey players. You sound ignorant at best, racist at worst.”
His mother blinked rapidly, her face reddening. “There’s no need to take that disrespectful tone with me.”
“Seriously, Mom?” Ryder demanded, coming up behind Reid. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”
She shot him a withering look. “You stay out of this!”
“The boy’s right, Arlene,” Roark interjected, standing next to Ryder. “We overheard your comments as we were coming inside, and you were way out of line. You can’t possibly believe the ridiculous things you were saying.”
&n
bsp; “You all misunderstood me,” she said with a toss of her head.
“Oh, we understood you perfectly,” Reid jeered. “And so did Nadia. You owe her an apology.”
His mother glared at Nadia, who stared back at her with a look of grim disgust.
Arlene’s mouth tightened stubbornly before she returned her gaze to Reid and lifted her chin. “I think the two of you are making a big mistake by—”
“The only mistake I made was trying to keep the peace and spare your feelings!” Reid exploded. “I should have set you straight the moment you opened your mouth to complain about my relationship with Nadia!” He raked her with a look of angry contempt. “Maybe living in Bloomfield Hills has gone to your head and given you a false sense of superiority. Maybe living in this mansion has put you out of touch with reality. Whatever your problem is, you need to deal with it. I’m so fucking serious, Mom. If you can’t respect the woman I love, you don’t need to come to my game tomorrow night. Stay home and watch it on TV. Or don’t. I really don’t give a damn what you do.”
Hurt flared in her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
“The hell I don’t!” Reid marched over to the settee, took Nadia’s hand and pulled her to her feet. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he drew her possessively to his side and jabbed a finger at his mother. “If you have a problem with Nadia, you have a problem with me.”
His mother slit her eyes and crossed her arms, giving him her most reproachful glare. “After everything I’ve done for you, and after everything we’ve been through together as a family, I can’t believe you would cut me off just because I don’t approve of your girlfriend.”
Reid stared her down. “Your disapproval is rooted in something ugly and reprehensible. You didn’t raise us this way, so I don’t know where it’s coming from. But I won’t stand for it, you hear me? Nadia isn’t going anywhere. I love her and I’m going to be with her, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it. So either get on board, or stay the hell away from us. Choice is yours.”
His mother’s chin trembled, but she met his eyes with a diamond-hard glare. “You’re making a terrible mistake.”
Reid gritted his teeth as a fresh surge of anger rushed through him.
Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) Page 44
