“North Carolina?”
She jerked her shoulder around, her hand reflexively touching the skin on her neck where his breath eased across it. “What?”
“Your accent.” Austin loomed over her now. His voice somehow deeper. Huskier. Or maybe it was her uncontrollable imagination at the sight of his broad chest two inches from her lips. “Are you from North Carolina? You sound like my friend Henrik’s family from Charlotte.”
Magnolia growled at herself. She intentionally downplayed her accent during interviews. Code switching. It was something she learned to do in college. However, Austin’s little striptease had distracted her, and she let her guard down. “No.” She switched back to her Midwestern on-air dialect. “Georgia.”
Austin snorted. “Same thing. At least it explains the dress code.”
“Dress code?” She glanced down at her simple shirt and matching pencil skirt. It was professional. Her leopard print heels and decorative pantyhose were a little much, but those would never be seen on camera. It wasn’t her usual work look, but it covered everything important.
Austin touched her name badge again that hung at the end of her lanyard. He raked his thumb across one of the hundred rhinestones that covered it. “Southern girls have a certain flashy sophistication.”
Magnolia’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
His gaze dropped to the hem of her skirt and the long stretch of skin beneath it. “It’s a compliment.”
“It doesn’t sound like it,” she said through her teeth.
“Trust me.” His eyes caught hers. “In your case, it is.”
Fire ran up her neck. Heat burned her face. Her cheeks were probably a perfect rosy red. The curse of pale southern girls everywhere. This was a professional interview, not a singles bar. However, he only grinned at the hateful face she made.
Arrogant asshole.
Randy held up his hand. “Ready in ten.”
Magnolia didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She had much more than a ten-second rant brewing inside of her, and she refused to let him win. She would not be flustered by him. She grabbed her microphone and threw on a smile.
“So, Georgia.” Austin smiled before turning to face the camera. Randy ticked the seconds down on his fingers. “How’s your hockey lingo?”
Magnolia glanced at him, and he smirked.
Her stomach dropped.
Austin spoke a different language. It was English, or at least part English. The other part sounded like total gibberish. She did her best to keep up, but ultimately she was lost. She didn’t understand a damn thing he said the entire interview. Her teeth clenched together after each question as he rambled on about God knew what, and all she could do was nod like an idiot. Never again.
As soon as the red on-air light on the camera vanished, she threw her microphone at Randy and started grabbing her things.
“Well, that was fun.” Austin said it like he hadn’t embarrassed her on national television.
She glared at him.
“Ah. So that thing about southern girls and tempers is true too. Noted.”
“I’m glad to know you find yourself amusing.” She really wanted to knock that smirk off his face. She gripped her hand around the clipboard and forced it into her overstuffed bag.
He crossed his arms over his broad chest, and Magnolia noticed the tattoo Cressida mentioned for the first time. The camera had gotten a crystal clear shot of it. “Don’t be mad. We only tease the reporters we like. Our viewers know that.”
She ignored him, grabbing her jacket and bag. She didn’t care that he was handsome, or that perfect held a new meaning to her now as she still considered shoving his damn shirt back over his head. She wouldn’t let any man interfere with her career again.
Austin caught the edge of her jacket sleeve when she turned to leave. “Wait.”
She stopped, pausing before slowly turning around. She would not lose her temper. No way in hell would she give him the satisfaction. She kept her mouth shut and waited.
“You can request an interview with me anytime, and I mean that. You’ve earned it.”
Magnolia jerked her elbow away and stalked out of the room. She’d interview a rock before she asked Austin Blakely for anything again.
Chapter Five
AUSTIN’S APOLOGY
Austin jumped over the back and into the vacant seat next to Henrik. The small gymnasium transformed to a hockey rink was musty and cramped. He loved it. Fort Never Quit was a legend. The minor league that it hosted produced superstars. To play on this rink was an honor you had to earn, and today Austin was here to watch his friend Drew do just that.
No one deserved the debut more than Henrik’s little brother. Despite showing the same amount of promise as Henrik, Drew gave up hockey after their mother’s death and only started skating again last year. Today was big. Monumental, even. Today was Drew’s first official game as a semi-professional hockey player.
“You’re late.” Henrik shot him a dirty look, his knee bouncing anxiously against the seat in front of him.
Austin knew Henrik was nervous for his brother, so he let his sour mood pass.
“They haven’t even sung the national anthem yet.”
A couple players came out on the ice to warm up, and Henrik immediately shot out of his seat. Austin pulled him back down. “Would you stop trying to embarrass the kid? Shit.”
“I’m excited.” Henrik pulled away from him and sat up to get a closer look at the ice. “I’ve waited a long time to see Drew play again.”
Austin knew better than anyone the toll that losing their mother had on his friends. He also knew how much Drew hated when his older brother hovered. He started to lecture Henrik again, but his teammate Sam slid in the seat next to him holding his niece. Lucy had a giant bag of buttered popcorn and grinned like she knew it.
“Junk food. Really?”
Sam shrugged, unrepentant. “I’m her favorite uncle for a reason.”
Austin frowned at him. He didn’t care that Drew’s boyfriend considered himself Lucy’s uncle. But he wasn’t Lucy’s favorite. Not now. Not ever. “Come here, Lucy girl. Stop letting Uncle Sam fill your head with lies.”
Lucy, with her bright head of red curls, immediately perked up and reached for him. He shot Drew an I-told-you-so smile. He let Lucy eat her popcorn as warmups continued. The teams headed into the locker room before final whistle.
Austin sat up straight in his seat. A flash of something bright and shiny reflected off the glass.
It was her. The Georgia reporter.
He shook his head, reprimanding himself. Magnolia. Her name was Magnolia. He’d read her name badge at least a hundred times during that interview. He immediately elbowed Henrik in the side to get his attention.
“What?”
“Look.” Austin pointed at Magnolia, who stood outside the glass to their left. “It’s that new reporter from MSG we saw in the bathroom.”
Magnolia was beautiful. A different, more perfect kind of beautiful. Today her hair was down. It dangled down her back in messy waves. Her lips glistened a deep scarlet. Austin scooted up in his seat to see the rest of her. Skin tight jeans and three-inch black leather heels lined with diamond studs down the back of the stiletto.
Flashy sophistication. He still didn’t understand why the description had offended her so much. It was so precisely her, and that intrigued him.
Henrik followed suit and moved up to look. Leila popped up too. “Is that the one who got pissed off because you flirted with her?”
Austin shot his friend a look. “Do you tell her everything?”
Henrik shrugged, unashamed. “Yes.”
Then Henrik gave him a look. A look that simply said—not everything.
Austin ignored him and turned back to his sister. “She didn’t get pissed off. She just didn’t leave on a pleasant note.”
Leila laughed. “I saw the interview, Austin. You deserved an ass chewing and more for what you did. I mean, I barely managed
to keep up with the stuff you were saying.”
He smiled, recalling Magnolia’s fuming features. She was fucking gorgeous when she was angry. “I know. I gave her unlimited interview access, though. That has to count for something. Right?”
“We’ve had three games since then.” Smug, Henrik crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t recall her requesting any interviews.”
It was true. Magnolia hadn’t looked in his direction since that first interview. Even after his Gordie Howe hat trick. Nothing. He needed to talk to her again. That night during his interview, teasing her had brought peace to his hectic, tortured mind. He slept for the first time since the incident. His fix was waning, though. Last night he found himself searching The Whisperer website for his name. He needed his distraction back.
Maybe if he apologized, a real apology this time, she’d let the playful banter become part of his routine. A new routine that numbed the worry with quick whips and secret smiles. He liked the thought of that.
He stood up reflexively. He hadn’t meant to do it. It just happened. His sister instantly smiled. “Where ya going?”
He looked at his niece and then back to Leila. He couldn’t tell his sister about the phone and the looming disaster that swirled in his head every waking second of the day. He also didn’t want to throw up any red flags about Magnolia. Leila would get the wrong idea. Miss Georgia would merely be a convenient distraction. “Lucy wants a popsicle.”
Henrik turned on him, the warmth in his eyes turning stone cold. “You’re not using my daughter to picks up chicks.”
Austin scoffed. “How dare you suggest such a thing?”
“Austin.”
Henrik knew him too well. It wasn’t that he would intentionally use Lucy to get Magnolia’s attention.
Lucy patted her hand on her mouth. “Pop pop.”
“See. She wants a popsicle.” Austin didn’t wait for Henrik to respond and darted out of the seats, carrying his niece along for the trip. He could hear Henrik yelling at him, but he ignored it. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
He gave his niece a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for the support, Luce.”
She grinned and patted her mouth again. “Pop pop.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her. “Yes, I’ll get you a popsicle.”
Lucy beamed back at him. He was definitely her favorite uncle.
***
Austin got Lucy her popsicle and walked back around the rink until he spotted Magnolia. Her nose was mere inches from the glass as she darted her eyes back and forth, watching the game. She held a clipboard in her arms, her pen scribbling as if independent from the rest of her body. Austin walked up beside her, and stood like he and Lucy were watching the game too.
He glanced over in time to watch her roll her eyes.
He smirked, giving her a casual nod, because his standing there was a total accident. “Hello.”
Lucy threw up the hand that wasn’t holding her popsicle. “Pop pop.”
Magnolia glanced over, her scornful face focusing on Lucy, and her features instantly softened. Lucy had that effect on everyone. She gave Lucy a small wave and very genuine smile. “Hi.”
Score one for Uncle Austin.
He stepped closer. “You’re a long way from Manhattan.”
She shot him a look. A you-are-not-allowed-to-talk-to-me look. She turned back to the ice. “I could say the same about you.”
“I’m here for family.” He held Lucy up a little higher so she could see over the goal. Drew was on the ice now. “Number nineteen. That’s Drew Rylander. He’s my niece Lucy’s other uncle.”
Magnolia’s head popped around. The connection must have clicked. Not everyone knew he and Henrik were semi-related now. She wanted to ask him something. He could practically see it on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t.
Stubborn and feisty. He liked it.
Austin pointed back toward Evan Author, the reporter for MSG who worked with her. Evan stood at the media desk, chatting with someone. “You know there is an easier way to learn hockey than spending your Saturdays at the rink.”
Again with the death look. “No.”
“You don’t know what I was going to suggest.”
She turned, her black hair whipping over her shoulder. “You don’t get to suggest anything. Not after that ridiculous excuse for an interview you gave.”
He grinned. He shouldn’t have, because it only made her lips press together, but he couldn’t stop it. Magnolia was clueless. He tried to make his voice as serious as possible. “That interview—that was me flirting with you.”
She stepped over, her stiletto heels tapping loudly against the concrete between them. She cupped her hands over Lucy’s ears. “This look—this is me not giving a shit.”
“I was only teasing you.”
Magnolia huffed and looked away. Okay, now his ego was bruised. He’d never had a girl act so utterly repulsed by the thought of flirting with him. He moved closer. “We joke around with all the reporters. Ask your buddy over there. My friend Callen taped his microphone with about ten rolls of tape before their first interview.”
Her steeled features didn’t budge. “This isn’t a joke. This is my career.”
“The guy before you got a shaving cream pie to the face.”
Still, she didn’t waver. Not even a little bit.
“Look, I’m—”
Austin paused. The door behind Magnolia flew open with a thud, the wind gusting inside with a howl. Tiny, heeled boots and a purple pantsuit. It was Farra Decantur, or better known around the news circle as Ferocia. She was owner and resident devil at The Whisperer.
Even the name caused a cold shiver to run down his spine. Ferocia was responsible for having Henrik tailed for a month after trade rumors started circling last year. If she was at a local rink, and made the effort to show up in person, then she got a tip on something big. She wouldn’t make the trip from hell and back for just anything.
This was bad. Very bad.
Noticing the terrified look that was surely plastered on his face, Magnolia glanced over her shoulder. “Who is that?”
Austin ignored her, positioning himself and Lucy behind her. Magnolia twirled around. “What are you doing? Are you trying to hide behind me?”
It was ridiculous. He knew that. He was gigantic, and Ferocia would surely spot him with her wicked gossip vision. “Just stand still.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t draw attention to us.”
She glanced curiously over her shoulder again.
“Stop.” Austin bounced up and down to keep from yelling. “Don’t look directly at her. The evil will burn your eyes.”
That’s when he saw it click on Magnolia’s face. “Oh. It’s her.”
Everyone knew Ferocia. She was a legend. Short, cropped hair, dyed spade black. She always sported tinted sunglasses to cover what Botox couldn’t anymore.
“The wife of Satan? Yes. Now stand still.”
Magnolia still wasn’t taking it seriously. She was too casual. She should be in a panic. No one was immune to Ferocia’s wrath.
Magnolia cocked her head to the side, curious. “Why would someone like Ferra Decantur be at a place like this?”
Austin’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”
She looked at him with wide eyes. She was serious. Worse. Magnolia was innocent. “She preys on athletes like we’re sitting ducks. Didn’t you read that article last week about that Knicks player, and the week before about the entire Yankees outfield?”
Slowly, Magnolia turned back around. “Is she here for you?”
Again, he shivered. It was like spider webs attaching themselves to his back. He hated Ferocia. Her showing up here was a nightmare come true.
“Doubt it.” He spoke below a whisper, but he could still hear the doubt in his voice. “I make a point not to be too newsworthy.”
“Then who?”
Henrik? He had made the magazine countless times. He even made the cover du
ring the trade rumor fiasco. That was before Leila, though, and definitely before Lucy. Either way, he had to warn them. Ferocia was there for someone.
“I’ve got to go.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.” He held up his hand, trying to make his apology as sincere but quick as possible. “My offer still stands. Request an interview. Anytime.”
He threw Lucy over his shoulder and rushed around the opposite side of the rink to his seat. He crashed down next to Sam, reaching Lucy over the seats in front of him to Leila. “What’s wrong?”
Henrik didn’t bother to turn around. “Got shot down that quick, huh?”
Austin ignored him, trying to keep calm. “Look to your left. Down by the glass near the press box.”
All their heads turned, and he practically jumped out of his seat. “Not everyone at once!”
Sam slowly looked, his eyes widening. “Shit. Ferocia is here.”
Henrik sat up a little straighter. “In person?”
Sam turned back, and Henrik took his turn to look. His face paled. Everyone knew what this could mean. Leila’s face was devastated. “She isn’t here for us.”
“She’s here for somebody.” Austin felt a knot form in his stomach. He couldn’t help but think about the woman in the purple wig.
Leila threw a jacket over her shoulder into Sam’s lap. “You should probably put that on. You wouldn’t want her to see you wearing Drew’s number.”
Sam quickly put the jacket on over his shirt. “The last thing I need is my dad reading rumors in a stupid magazine.”
Sam’s family still didn’t know about his relationship with Drew. In fact, Sam’s mother still called him every week to ask him when he was going to bring a nice American girl home to visit. It wasn’t his mother’s reaction that worried Sam. He tried to tell his father once. Only once.
Austin eased in his direction. “I know you don’t want to leave, but…”
Sam grimaced. He was torn. “It’s Drew’s first game.”
“You’re not ready for your relationship to be public until you tell your family,” Henrik said without turning around. “Drew understands that.”
The Girl With Diamonds (Midtown Brotherhood Book 2) Page 4
