Chapter Eight
AUSTIN’S CHOICE
Magnolia won. She won on so many levels. Creamy skin peeked from beneath the sheet as his heart sank to his toes. She was naked. Naked. Magnolia’s friend announced the change in plans like she would a change in the dinner schedule. There would be no painting a bowl of fruit tonight. They had a volunteer for a live model. The human form would be their muse. Magnolia’s form.
Naked.
Magnolia would be naked in front of him, and in front of all these people. No clothes at all.
“I like her,” Leila said, her arms crossed over her chest. “She didn’t just call your bluff, she jumped off the fucking cliff.”
Henrik nodded his agreement. “Score one for Georgia.” Then he looked at Austin. “Your move, big guy.”
His move.
What the hell was he supposed to do?
Austin looked back at Magnolia. Her stare drilled into him. Her hands held the skimpy sheet over her bare chest. Her even barer shoulders were slightly visible through the long sheath of silky black hair. Magnolia pushed her glasses back up her nose with the tip of her finger. A deliberate move. Like she knew those little fuck-me glasses drove him bat shit crazy.
What was he supposed to do?
Magnolia stepped onto the podium, and murmurs erupted around him. Well, he was sure what he wasn’t going to do. He would absolutely not sit here and watch her drop that damn sheet, and let these people watch him fall flat on his ass. He showed up here to accomplish two goals. First, he needed to convince Magnolia the easiest way to avoid another feature in The Whisperer was to interview him again. A plain, boring, no thrills interview. Then, he needed to convince her to be friends. At least, friends in the sense that he got to flirt with her every day and play the back and forth limbo to keep his mind busy and off his own much more problematic Ferocia problem.
Callen glanced over his shoulder. “This was an awesome idea,” he said, and then the bastard winked.
Yeah. This was not happening. Not like this. Not right now. Not with a fucking audience. He stood up. His feet moved without instruction.
Henrik laughed behind him. “And that is exactly what I thought would happen.”
It didn’t matter. Austin stalked up the aisle, pulling his shirt over his head as he went. He was on the podium within seconds. He shot Magnolia a glare before shoving his shirt over her head and down to her waist. Then he grabbed the sheet, holding it in place over her legs before pulling her around in his arms.
She didn’t say a word, but her fingers pressed against his chest. She wasn’t angry. It was something else. He felt it too. Something he didn’t recognize. He jumped down from the podium and made a beeline for the back room, or wherever the hell she’d put her clothes. He needed to find those damn clothes.
“Don’t worry,” her friend announced to the crowd behind them. “This isn’t the first time she’s talked him out of his shirt.”
The hallway was dark, but his choppy breaths were loud. His heart sounded like a freaking drum line. She heard it, or rather she felt it. The tips of her fingers touched the pounding point in his chest. “The bathroom is the third door on the right.”
He found it in silence and set her down just inside the door. He opened his mouth, but she gently pushed him back. “Give me a second.” Then she smiled. It was weak, but it was there. The harsh edges suddenly stripped away. “At least let me find my panties.”
Positive this conversation would go a lot better if she had clothes, Austin stepped back and let her shut the door. He paced in front of it. He stomped back and forth until finally he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He placed his hands on either side of the doorframe. “What the hell were you thinking?” The door didn’t answer, so he continued. “You were mad that Ferocia put one interview on her site, but you weren’t worried that someone might have taken pictures of you naked out there?”
Again, nothing. Damn it, she was good at this. “You realize all my friends are out there. You would have been naked in front of all of them.”
“Is that jealousy in your voice?”
He glared at the closed door. “I’m not jealous.”
“You sound jealous.”
He tried the handle, but it was locked. “This is so not about jealously. This is about me not embarrassing myself in a room full of people, and then getting arrested because I punch Callen Copley in the nose when he can’t resist opening his stupid, filthy mouth.”
The other side of the door went quiet.
“Did you want me to get arrested? Was that your plan? Just to embarrass me?”
There was a sound. A giggle. She was fucking laughing at him.
“Do not make me open this door, Magnolia Cross, because I will.”
The door creaked open anyway. She stood there, fully clothed, grinning in her short tuft of a dress. There was cleavage and legs for days, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her face. It was confident and smug. She knew she won. “You don’t call what you just did embarrassing yourself in front of a room full of people?”
She eyed his bare chest, the corners of her lips quirking into a small smile. He took a slow breath. This woman. There was something about this woman that drove him crazy. She didn’t just make him lose thoughts that burdened his mind. She made him lose every thought, every piece of common sense and rationality that existed. “Maybe I did embarrass myself, but I deserved that one. We’re even.”
She laughed again. This time it was deep and rich. It made him sad that he grabbed her off the podium. “Not even close. A couple people in a paint studio can’t compare to half the nation.”
Austin sighed. She wasn’t going to let that stupid interview go. “What can I do to make it up to you?”
“I don’t know.” She pulled his shirt over her head, covering her dress, and breathed it in. “But I’m keeping this—it’s warm.”
She was still winning. Even now when the game was over. He crossed his arms, leaning against the frame. “You know there is a better way to keep warm in Manhattan than stealing my clothes.”
“No.”
He grinned. This was what he wanted. What he needed. The playful banter that kept him on his toes. “What do you have against my suggestions?”
She shrugged, pulling her hair around her shoulder and straightening her glasses. “They’re your suggestions. Isn’t that enough?”
He laughed now, the strain of the day drifting away. “I’m going to come up with something brilliant one day, and you’re going to miss out on it because of pure stubbornness.”
“I’ll take my chances.” She smiled before trotting out of the bathroom. The hem on her dress swished across the back of her thighs as she walked past him.
He caught her by the arm. He wasn’t done. He needed more of her. “Stop.”
“What?”
He stepped up beside her, taking a second to enjoy the sight of her in his shirt. “About the video on The Whisperer.”
She turned around with her chin set. “Oh. Now you want to take that seriously?”
“I always take it seriously. I was trying to explain to you. I’ve done this before, not me particularly, but I helped Henrik avoid her. There are ways around the system.”
“I can handle it on my own.”
His hand moved to her hip. It was a reflex, like everything that happened when he got near her. He was glad he did, though. She moved into him. He could smell the hint of her shampoo, mixed with her perfume. Strawberries and don’t-leave-yet. “I’m taking a chance too. You realize that, right? Me coming here tonight was a risk. Ferocia has our scent.”
“Why risk it, then? Why didn’t you just stay away?”
“It’ll be easier if we work together. Avoiding each other will only make her look harder.”
She shook her head. It was quick. “No, avoiding each other is what we need—”
“You look good in Rangers blue.” He touched her cheek, then her hair. “Do you know how many girls I’ve seen wear my
number or my gear?”
Her slightly parted lips snapped shut before she rolled her eyes.
“Zero.” He eased in front her, because he wanted her to hear this. He shifted her until her back was against the wall, his arms on either side of her. “They were just girls. Their hair different colors. Some short and some tall. I never notice them, though. I saw you that night in the bathroom, Magnolia. I noticed you. I noticed you immediately.”
Her eyes shot down, but he pulled her chin up. “I don’t want to ignore you just to make a story go away.”
Her voice was soft now. “I need the story to go away, Austin. I’m here on an internship. Internships end. First impressions can turn sour when your face is plastered across a magazine every day.”
“I can teach you ways around them. I told you, I’ve done it before.”
Her body tensed, her fingers gripped around the sleeves of his too long shirt. “I’m sorry. I’m not taking any chances. Tonight was a risk, and it was fun. It ends here, though.”
“You don’t mean that. You enjoy it too.” He joked to keep her from hearing the sadness in his voice. This was new. He’d never had something end before he knew he wanted it to start. “Request an interview tomorrow.”
“Austin.”
“I’m about to leave town for a week.” He needed more time with her. Something more substantial to keep his mind occupied. At least that’s what the little panicking voice in his head yelled at him. “Are you really going to make me say please?”
She went still, her eyes closing. She looked sad. “The answer is still no.” She touched his arm, squeezing it. “I’m sorry.”
She eased by him, and he let her go. There was something else. Something she wasn’t telling him. There was more to that look, a sadness that shouldn’t be there. Then he remembered her pep talk in the bathroom that night. Her convincing herself there was nothing to be embarrassed about here.
He walked back to the main room, shirtless and intrigued just like he’d been that night after the interview. Magnolia was gone. Every eye was on him, all wide, all watchful. They waited for his next move.
He didn’t have one. He was too busy asking himself the same question Henrik had that night. Why did he care so much?
Leila shoved his jacket into his hands and looked back at the door that remained empty. “Are you going to go after her?”
“Not tonight.”
He slipped his jacket on and looked at her. She had that annoyed look on her face that he knew all too well. “What?”
“You like her, Austin. Go after her.”
“It’s just a game. We’re flirting. It’s innocent.”
“The Whisperer didn’t think it was innocent, and neither do I.”
He rolled his eyes and trudged toward the door. “Well, maybe you and that stupid magazine should stay out of it.”
“She has an interview for a new job soon,” she called out behind him.
Austin stopped at the door, his hands on the glass. He didn’t turn around. “So?”
Leila’s voice moved closer, dropping to a whisper. “Her friend said the interview was for a job in Los Angeles.”
His fingers flexed around the handle of the door. “I’m waiting for your point?”
Leila was beside him now. She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “No point. You’re just flirting with her. It doesn’t matter that you’re about to lose a shot with the first girl you’ve showed interest in since…I don’t know…forever.”
He glared at her. “You’re annoying. Have I ever told you that?”
She grinned. “You’re bullheaded and clueless. We all have our faults.”
He rolled his eyes.
Leila inched closer, touching his arm. “Go after her, Austin.”
He thought about Magnolia and what she said, remembering that look on her face. He shook his head and shoved through the door. He wasn’t finished with Magnolia Cross, but he wouldn’t win any favor by chasing after her right now.
Leila caught the door. “Austin?”
“I said not tonight.” He walked into the crowd buzzing along the street, losing himself in the memory of the fiery eyes and wicked smile that was burdened by something he couldn’t quite put his finger on yet. “Not tonight,” he said again, more to himself than his sister. Soon, but not tonight.
Chapter Nine
MAGNOLIA’S BIG SCENE
Magnolia stood next to her cameraman Randy as he read through the list of players for the second time. She tapped the toe of her candy apple red heel, considering her options. Evan wasn’t there to save her today. Her assignment was to interview a player before the team left for their week-long road trip. It pretty much boiled down to anyone but Austin.
Nerves bit at her stomach. One hour and she would be home free of Austin Blakely and his games for an entire week. Surely, some celebrity would do something stupid between then and the Rangers home game next week to take the focus off their bleep in the gossip universe.
One more interview and this nightmare would be over.
Randy cleared his throat. “Magnolia, you have to pick someone.”
She didn’t want just anyone. She wanted meadow green eyes and that make-her-crazy smile. Why did everything including her own backstabbing thoughts want her to fail? She took a breath, closed her eyes and pictured a blank wall. She could do this.
“Jiri Tokarski.”
Randy looked up at her, skeptical. “Tokarski is on the fourth line. Not exactly a big name player.”
She returned Randy’s stare, running a steady hand down the hem of her strictly professional navy blue skirt to straighten out the creases. “I want to interview Jiri Tokarski.”
“Do you know what position he plays?”
She bit her tongue to keep from scolding him. Randy was only trying to help, but it was her call. “Right wing. He played center until recently, but Callen Copley, who is much younger, proved himself in the playoffs last year, and moved up to take that position on the second line.”
Randy smiled. “Well, look who did her homework.”
Magnolia showcased all her teeth. “Now get my Russian, and make it quick.”
Randy shook his head mockingly. “Cressida isn’t going to like this.”
Magnolia playfully threw her empty cup of espresso at Randy’s back. “Last I checked, Cressida isn’t my boss.”
Randy held up his hands up in surrender. “Okay. I’ll request your Russian.”
Magnolia paced the floor. MSG wasn’t the only news outlet waiting for an interview. The players would board a plane in just a couple hours. Western Canada for seven whole days. Everyone wanted an interview before they left. Magnolia nervously glanced over her shoulder as other players started to show up. It would only make sense for at least one of the other news outlets to request an interview from Austin. He was a star player and alternate captain.
It’s what she should have done.
“Hello, Miss Cross.”
Magnolia whirled around, relieved to see the red hair and toothless grin of Jiri Tokarski. She breathed. She got lucky this time.
The interview went off without a hitch. Jiri, unlike his younger teammate, was a complete professional. Magnolia finished the interview and packed up her things within thirty minutes. She waved to Randy. “I’m heading out.”
He threw up a hand in acknowledgment, and she rushed toward the door. She pushed against it and met resistance. The door heaved open, pushing her backward. Feet, bag, and legs. It all went in the air as she landed on the floor. She shoved the hem of her dress down over her exposed ass, and then looked up just in time to see an apologetic face staring down at her.
“I’m so sorry.” Raven hair and a lip ring. It wasn’t Austin. “I didn’t know anyone was standing there.”
“It’s okay. Really.” She could have killed herself in the heels, but that would have been her own fault.
The guy helped her to her feet, and she studied him as she dusted herself off. She ran t
hrough the list of players again in her mind until she found the right one. “Callen, right?”
He swiped his unruly black hair out of his eyes. “Yes. Again, I’m sorry. They called me for an interview and I was in a rush.”
“Not a big deal.” Magnolia tried straightening her clothes. “It could have been worse.”
It could have been Austin. That would have been embarrassing.
Callen smiled at her. Really smiled at her. “He knows you’re here.”
Her gaze shot up. “What?”
Callen leaned closer, whispering. “Austin. He knows you’re here.”
Suddenly, she stood a little straighter, her shoulders pulling back. “Good for him.”
Callen laughed. A ‘deep to his core’ kind of laughed. “I see why he likes you.” His eyes roamed down her body and back up. “Well, besides the obvious.”
“Excuse you?”
Again, he smiled, easy and cheerful. “Go easy on him, eh? Our Lone Ranger is only tough on the outside.”
Callen jogged off, still shaking his head and laughing. She didn’t think it was funny. Any of it. Magnolia grabbed her bag and headed down the hallway in a hurry. She still might make it out without any awkward run-ins. She passed by the players’ exit, rushing a little too fast in her heels, but saw no one. She let out a gush of relief as she turned the corner. Her heels screeched to a halt against the tile, almost toppling herself forward.
Austin.
He stood at the door to her exit, his hands shoved in the pockets of his dress pants. She could turn around. There were other ways out of the building. He saw her. His gaze locked on her. She might be a lot of things, but a chicken wasn’t one of them. She clasped her hand around the handle of her bag and sauntered toward the exit. Toward him.
His dress shirt and pants had to be tailored. Nothing straight off the rack could fit so precisely to someone like that. The icy blue tie was knotted perfectly, and his dark hair combed back. Players were required to dress professionally as they traveled to and from games, but someone should have told Austin that professional didn’t mean GQ photo shoot ready.
The Girl With Diamonds (Midtown Brotherhood Book 2) Page 7
