A Perfect Distraction
Page 3
Perhaps she was being unfair to Jake, tarring him with the same brush as Lee. But for Emily’s safety and Maggie’s peace of mind, she couldn’t afford to relax her guard.
Besides, she wouldn’t see him again. Tracy would handle all further communication with him. Maggie ignored the twinge in her chest at that thought.
“Was anyone interesting at the party?” Tracy asked.
Safe ground. “I’m sure there were loads of famous people, but I didn’t recognize many. I saw that sexy guy from CSI who’s doing a guest stint with CSI: New York.” She sat in the armchair by the bed. “Apparently, that bloke we liked from Sex and the City dropped by, but I didn’t see him.”
“Bloody typical. I miss all the fun.”
“Weren’t you the one who sat near Tim Robbins at Madison Square Garden? I’ve lost track of all the stars you’ve seen at Yankee Stadium.”
“But I’ve never been to a bash like Jake’s.”
“It wasn’t anything special.”
“I’m not as blasé as you about hobnobbing with celebrities.”
“Jaded, rather than blasé,” Maggie said softly.
“Well, you were one of them, not long ago.”
“Hardly. My only real claim to fame was being a WAG.”
“Being one of the footballers’ wives and girlfriends makes you a celebrity, too.”
“Only because every moment of your life is covered endlessly in the press. What you wear, what you eat, how you look—it’s all discussed and analysed. The paparazzi follow you everywhere, watching and waiting. The appeal of having my picture on the cover of all the magazines and being recognized in the supermarket wore off a long time ago.”
Much to Lee’s displeasure. When she’d first married him, she’d loved the publicity and lifestyle that went with being part of a celebrity couple. It hadn’t taken long for the glamour to fade. For her to tire of having every moment of her life controlled by her ex to optimize media opportunities. “Lee still chases the headlines and the column inches. He’s desperate to be another David Beckham.”
“He’s not a good enough footballer. He’s never played for one of the top Premier League teams or been picked for England.”
Painful memories of what had happened every time Lee hadn’t been selected flickered through Maggie’s mind. Her now-healed arm twinged.
Her reaction must have shown, because Tracy changed the subject, her tone brisk. “How did the meeting with Jake go?”
“Fine.” Maggie pushed the past aside. “He was pleased with the move, but he wants somewhere else.”
“Really? I was sure he’d love that apartment.”
“Apparently, Manhattan is too distracting.” Maggie added air quotes. She found it hard to believe an athlete with his reputation wanted a sedate life in the suburbs. “He wants to concentrate on hockey.”
“Moving to a new team is quite an upheaval, and it’ll be a tough start to the season because he hasn’t played in six months. It’s hard keeping up with that life when you’re healthy, let alone when you’ve been injured so badly.”
“True.” She’d struggled to cope after Emily’s birth and had wanted desperately to withdraw from the social whirl, but Lee had insisted she continue. It had taken a doctor’s intervention to get some respite. “Still, it seems a little sudden.”
“He’s probably one of those people who makes up his mind to do something and wants it done now, now, now.”
“That, I can believe.”
“What’s he after?”
“A house with at least three bedrooms and a large garden.” Maggie explained briefly what she and Jake had discussed. “Honestly, I don’t think he’s thought through what he really wants. So I’d recommend somewhere with the flexibility to adapt to his needs, like adding a home gym.”
“Sounds good.” Tracy winced as she straightened. “I should get on this right away.”
“You’re not up to it.” Maggie shook her head. “No business for a week, remember?”
“That was before I knew Bad Boy wanted to buy a house.”
“He can wait until you’re better.”
“Even if he’s willing to delay, the Ice Cats won’t be happy. This project is a big step up from the ad hoc assignments I’ve done for them and the clock’s ticking. Until Jake signs to say the job’s finished to his satisfaction, Making Your Move won’t get that retainer.” Tracy’s words tumbled over each other as her voice rose in pitch. “I can’t risk them changing their minds. Becoming their sole contractor for player moves for the next five years would make my business financially secure. Everything has to be perfect.”
“I know this project is important, but so is your health. If you rush back to work, your recovery will take even longer.”
“I have no choice. There are plenty of firms willing to take my place. Unless...” Tracy’s expression became pensive. “I know we agreed you’d only do that one meeting, but would you be willing to help me out again?”
Maggie knew what was coming and hated that she couldn’t refuse. Her sister wouldn’t rest with this situation nagging her. “What do you need me to do?”
“Manage Jake. Mimi, my favorite real-estate agent, will help you find suitable properties. Also, check his rental papers to see the penalties for early termination and...”
Panic fluttered in her chest at Tracy’s list of instructions. It was too much. She couldn’t be responsible for all that. “I can’t. I have no experience.” Lee’s sneering voice echoed in her head. You’re useless. “I’ll make a mistake and blow it for you.”
“Rubbish!” Her sister smacked the bed. “I hate what that bastard did to you. Bad enough that he controlled every aspect of your life like a modern-day Svengali. His belittling jibes did as much damage as his fists.” Her sister softened her tone. “You’re a smart, capable woman. You can do this and much more.”
Tracy forced Maggie to meet her gaze. “Look what you’ve achieved in the past few months. When I fell ill, you moved over here, found a summer activity camp for Emily and sorted out a school for the fall. To say nothing of what you’ve done for me at work.”
“But I might make a mess of things and cost you the business.”
“You won’t. Besides, I’ll be right here overseeing everything.” Tracy’s smile was wry. “Even if you won’t let me use my laptop, I can listen and advise.”
This was supposed to be Maggie’s fresh start. She’d vowed Emily would never see her as weak and pathetic again. Just because things weren’t going smoothly didn’t mean she should give up. She owed it to herself to see what she was capable of.
With her sister nearby, what could go wrong? “It’s only for the week?”
Tracy nodded eagerly. “Most of the work can be done by phone or email. You probably won’t have to see Jake more than once.”
See Jake again? Maggie’s pulse gave a funny little lurch. It had been one thing to dismiss her reaction to him when she’d thought she wouldn’t see him again. Quite another to test her resolve not to be affected by another meeting with him.
Her sister continued, “Then you can return to taking care of the admin, like we agreed. I prom—” She made a wry face. “No promises?”
A smile slipped out. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks.” Tracy settled against the pillows. “So, is Bad Boy as sexy in person?”
“He’s nice,” Maggie hedged, cursing the heat that filled her cheeks. “Polite, charming.”
“You fancied him, I can tell.”
Arguing would only fuel her sister’s curiosity. “He’s better looking than his photos,” she conceded. “Why don’t I get you a cup of tea?”
“Thanks.” Tracy must be tired to accept the distraction so easily. “Bring up Jake’s file, too, and let’s see what needs to be done.”
Maggie didn’t dignify that comment with a response.
As she went downstairs, she wished for a fraction of Tracy’s self-confidence. Her sister’s bitter divorce from her cheating husband hadn’t slowed her down. It had made her stronger.
It was time Maggie followed her example. She’d vowed the night she left Lee to do everything she could to provide her daughter with a happy, safe and secure life. Tracy was giving her the perfect opportunity to make that happen. Maggie needed to dip into the well of strength that had helped her survive her marriage and get on with it.
Maggie made the tea, then went into the office. As she grabbed Jake’s file, a picture slid onto the desk. Those killer ice-blue eyes stared up at her. She jammed the photo back into the folder, then put a hand over her pounding heart as if she could slow its runaway pace. The last thing she wanted or needed in her life right now was a man. Least of all, Jake Badoletti.
“He’s just a client,” she told herself. “Nothing more.”
She ignored the inner voice that cackled with disbelief as she went back upstairs.
* * *
NOTHING APPEALED TO him.
Jake studied the property sheets spread across his parents’ kitchen table and sighed. He’d been excited when Maggie had emailed them ahead of their meeting. An hour later, and with Maggie due to arrive any minute, he had to admit he wasn’t jazzed about a single one.
“You don’t like these houses?” His mom gave him a glass of lemonade.
“Definitely not these tasteless monsters.” He gathered some rejected properties into a pile. “These are too modern, lack soul.” He added another group to the stack. “And these...”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this change?” she asked softly, concern in her blue eyes. “You’ve been through so much and this is such a big decision.”
“It’s because of what I went through that I want to change my life, Ma. I have to.”
She didn’t look convinced.
His cell rang, and he glanced at the caller ID but didn’t answer. The popular starlet’s persistence was beginning to tick him off.
“That hasn’t changed.” His mom smiled. “The girls still call.”
“But I don’t call them back. I told you, I’m focusing on hockey. Period.”
“You’re sure?”
“Definitely.”
“You’re a good boy, Jake. No matter what they call you.”
He was glad no one was around to see him choke at his mother’s faith in him. It proved he wasn’t beyond hope. And reinforced why he couldn’t waste this second chance.
He refocused on the property sheets. “These town houses have small yards.”
His mom added them to the no pile.
“That leaves these four. I don’t really like any of them, but Maggie won’t be impressed if I reject everything sight unseen.”
“Who’s Maggie?” His mom’s innocent expression didn’t fool him.
He kept his voice casual. “She works for that relocation agency. She’ll take me around the places I’m interested in.”
“I see.” She sighed heavily. “I’d hoped your new life would include settling down, getting married and giving me grandchildren.”
“One thing at a time, Ma.” He shook his head at her. “Remember, no distractions.”
“Since when is a nice girl a distraction?”
An image of Maggie in that mud-brown suit flitted through his mind, followed swiftly by teasing little snapshots: the momentarily hitched skirt, the undone buttons, her smooth, creamy skin. The way she nibbled her full bottom lip when she was thinking. He could swear a hint of her fragrance wafted past him.
His blood heated.
Maggie fit his mom’s idea of a nice girl. Given how many erotic dreams he’d had about Maggie since their meeting and how many times she’d popped into his thoughts, the mousy brunette was also one hell of a distraction.
“Nothing but hockey, Ma, until I win the Cup.”
“Many players have wives and families and still win the Cup.” She squeezed his hand. “You need balance in your life.”
The doorbell rang, saving him from having to reply.
He leaped to his feet. “I’ll go.”
Maggie stood on the front porch. Today’s gray suit was as drab as the brown thing. The demure neckline had a lace collar that would have suited a nun’s habit. The itty-bitty heels of her gray sandals looked uncomfortable to walk in. No sign of toenail polish. Not that he was obsessed or anything.
He tamped down his jumping pulse. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, thank you.” She smiled uncertainly. “I hope I’m not too early. I’m still finding my way around and get lost, even with GPS, so I leave extra time.”
“Not a problem.”
“Come in.” His mom bustled past him. “It’s too warm to be standing on the porch. I’m Tina Badoletti.” She took Maggie’s arm and ushered her down the hall toward the kitchen, chatting a mile a minute about the weather, her garden and the flowers she’d just picked.
Jake followed behind, shaking his head fondly.
As Maggie walked into the kitchen, she turned to give him a slightly shell-shocked smile. His eyes were drawn downward, over her curves to those shapely calves and ankles and back up to...
Buttons. Lace-covered buttons that looked like sugar-dusted candy. In a line, along the side seam of her pencil skirt.
His fingers itched to discover if they were real or just for show. His heart thudded against his ribs at the thought of undoing them, one at a time. His groin tightened at the image of what would be revealed beneath.
Jake slammed to a halt outside the kitchen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t going to happen. He had to focus.
Right after he figured out how to spend the afternoon with Maggie without getting distracted by those damn buttons.
He resisted the urge to knock his head against the wall and entered the kitchen.
Maggie sat at the table with a glass of lemonade. His mom had commandeered the seat next to her and was in the midst of a merciless barrage of questions.
He should intervene. Grown men, even some of the toughest hockey players, had quaked at Tina Badoletti’s inquisition. Maggie, the nervous mouse, stood no chance.
Yet as Jake hovered in the doorway, ready to leap to the rescue, he realized she was handling his mom’s nosiness just fine. “Of course I have pictures of Emily.” Maggie laughed as she pulled out a purse-size photo album.
The tension tightening his shoulders slipped away at the cozy sight of the two of them with their heads together, flipping through family pictures. Funny, he couldn’t imagine any of the women in his past being so comfortable with his mom.
Who did that say more about, them or him? He cleared his throat, trying to ease the knot lodged there.
Maggie stiffened. Her wide-eyed gaze shot to him. She closed the album and stuffed it in her purse, then pulled out her notepad. Disappointment tugged his chest at her jerky actions. The nervous mouse was back.
How could he get her to relax again? To replace her stricken expression with the bright smile she’d worn a moment ago.
He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Ma, if you get out my baby pictures, I’ll tell Dad about your bingo winnings in the flour canister.”
His mom rose, waggling her finger at him. “As if I’d show her your scrawny, naked, six-month-old butt.” She turned to Maggie. “He was the skinniest baby.”
Maggie bit her lip as if suppressing a giggle.
Jake slid into the chair his mom had vacated, giving Maggie a “what can you do” shrug. “You’ll wond
er why I wanted to move home when I get so much abuse.”
“Pfft,” his mom said. “Enough people treat you like a movie star. If I didn’t keep you grounded, your head wouldn’t fit through the door. Isn’t that right, Maggie?”
The giggle escaped, becoming a laugh.
He liked that her laugh was full-bodied, not the squeaky titter so many women had. He also liked how it lit up her face, her eyes.
Clearly torn between siding with his mom and not offending her client, Maggie stuttered an answer, watching him carefully.
“Yeah, you girls stick together.” He winked at her
She looked startled for a moment, then smiled tentatively.
His mom slid a plate with a slice of pound cake before Maggie, overriding her objection with a pat on her shoulder. “You’ll need the energy to help my son choose a house. He’s been as miserable as a wet cat about the ones you sent.”
Heat rose up his neck. “Ma, you’re killing me. Don’t you have something to do?”
“I have to get dinner on.” She pulled vegetables out of the refrigerator. “You know your father is starving by seven.” She pointed an onion at the pile of papers. “Those are all my son’s rejects.”
“You didn’t like anything?” Maggie frowned as she sifted through the discarded sheets and cross-checked them with her list.
“These four are possibilities.” He handed her the details.
“I thought this might have met your needs.” She tapped one of the discarded sheets. “It has substantial square footage, a private gym, a master suite with a whirlpool tub and a large yard with trees.”
The overblown McMansion had appealed to his ego, but only briefly. “Is that the one with a freaking full-size ballroom?”
Her grin caught him off guard. “I thought that would be the clincher. Don’t all you hockey players want to be on Battle of the Blades?”
“Hell...heck no!” he spluttered. “I don’t want to be in any reality show, let alone one that makes me dance or figure skate or whatever you call it.” He smiled ruefully at the teasing twinkle in her eyes. There was that sense of humor again. “You got me.”