Bad Boy Heroes Boxed Set

by Patricia Ryan

  “All right, that’s feasible. It’s just that making the accusation after several things have gone wrong for you is highly suspicious.”

  Margo bristled, but kept her cool, like she had in her street days when the Outlaws ran into trouble. “Yes, I suppose it would be.”

  “Is there proof, Margo? Any witnesses? Any notes Philip wrote you? Anything like that?”

  “No.” She’d naively thrown away notes he’d left her and erased voice mail messages.

  He sighed. “Then, of course, there’s the fact that Philip initiated and supervised the development of our Sexual Harassment Policy.”

  “I know that. It complicates matters.”

  “He’s also gotten many awards from city women’s groups for his recruitment of women.”

  She swallowed hard. “I know.”

  Jack shook his head. “Ironic, huh?”

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I wish this hadn’t happened.”

  He nodded. “Me, too. All right, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll meet with Philip as soon as he gets back” —he glanced at his calendar— “on Monday. Then I’d like to meet with you together, and the company’s lawyer if that’s comfortable for you.”

  “Of course. A person has a right to face his accuser.”

  “Fine.” He stood indicating the meeting was over. “I promise you I’ll investigate this to the fullest, and I’ll be fair.”

  “I trust you will be. And in all fairness to you, I want you to know I’ve contacted an attorney. I wanted some legal advice before I brought this to your attention.” She held out the memos. “However, I had no choice but to tell you today.”

  He nodded.

  “Thank you for listening. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

  She rose and headed to the door. When she reached it, he called to her. “Oh, and one more thing Margo.”

  She pivoted around. “What?”

  “My wife and I had dinner with Sally and Philip this weekend. There didn’t seem to be any marital problems between them then.”

  Chapter 25

  *

  TAYLOR CUMMINGS WAS probably the prettiest woman Annie had ever seen. Even dressed in khaki cargo shorts, a loose navy T-shirt and a New York Mets baseball cap, she was as stunning as a runway model. Her dark curly hair hung in waves down her back, and every part of her was long, lean and toned. Right now, she was screaming her head off as Joe’s Little League team went ahead five to four. Joe coached from the sidelines in jeans and the green team shirt.

  “Who is she?” Suzie asked from next to Annie in the stands. Joe’s mother Grace was home with Faith, who had the sniffles, and Annie didn’t want her out in the just-stopped rain. The bleachers were still damp, and Annie felt the cold through her jeans.

  “She’s a friend of Joe’s.” Annie wasn’t sure if Suzie knew about the underwear modeling, so she didn’t want to talk out of turn.

  “Oh, is she the photographer?”

  So much for Joe’s privacy. “Uh-huh.”

  Suzie laughed. Her eyes sparkled like Joe’s did when he was amused. “You should have seen Ma’s face when she first saw the catalog. I thought she was going to bust a gut.”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  “Yeah. Real classy. I can’t believe it’s my brother.” Suzie continued to watch the play. “I’ll bring you a copy.”

  “No, thanks. I wouldn’t want the kids to see it.”

  “It’s honest money, Annie.”

  Annie’s head snapped to the side. When had Suzie started to defend her brother? “I never said it wasn’t. I just think it might be embarrassing for them. Especially Matt.”

  “These days, Matt thinks Joe walks on water.”

  “Obviously, he’s not the only one.”

  Suzie’s complexion flushed. She fiddled with the tie on her fleece jacket and moved her shoulders with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. “Does it bother you? He’s my big brother, Annie. I missed him. I like having him back.”

  So do I. Oh, God, how could she even think such a thing?

  Because he’s changed.

  “Annie?”

  “No, Suz, I’m not mad. I’m glad you have him back, and that the kids have him, too.”

  Suzie eyed the field, then looked to the stands. “I just hope he’s here to stay.” She nodded to Taylor, who was on her lovely feet, protesting a bad call. “And that she doesn’t drag him back to New York to live.”

  “You could still see him. So could the kids.”

  “It wouldn’t be the same.”

  No, it wouldn’t.

  Annie shrugged. “I’m going to get a drink. You want one?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Annie climbed down the stands, which were sparsely populated, wrapping her long-sleeved tattered denim shirt closer around her. She hadn’t realized how she’d dressed tonight—a regular Little Orphan Annie. And her hair was curling wildly from the rain. Oh, hell, why was she worried how she looked?

  She wished Margo or Beth were with her. But Beth was at Linc’s, probably driving him crazy, hovering like a mother hen, and Margo had gone back to New York the day before. Rosa hadn’t come to the game either. Sam had not shown himself in Glen Oaks since he’d attacked Linc, and Rosa had had to take Lisa to her soccer game tonight. So Annie was alone, left to deal with her conflicting feelings by herself.

  Ever since Linc’s injury and the conversation she’d overheard between Joe and Rosa, Annie had been uneasy about her feelings for Joe. They’d changed somewhere along the line, and in all fairness, in good Christian fairness, she couldn’t keep from admitting he was not the man who’d left Glen Oaks five years before.

  The problem was that along with that admission came fear. A big fear. That she might begin to feel other things for him again. And, given what he’d done to her, how could she?

  Taylor Cummings seemed to bring it all to the forefront. She’d arrived in Glen Oaks the day before, after Joe had canceled a photo shoot on Saturday. Annie knew this because Joe had told Linc, who told Beth, who told Annie. Not that Annie wanted to know, not that she cared where the pretty photographer had stayed the night before, or where she’d stay that night.

  Joe was a big boy. An attractive man. A good lover.

  Annie swallowed hard. How could she even think about that after what he’d done to her? Not only the abuse, but the rape. She didn’t let herself dwell on it, but that didn’t make it any less real, any less an irrevocable chasm between them that could never, ever be breached.

  After purchasing a soda from the concession, she went to return to the stands and instead detoured to the playground. It was deserted tonight, given the fact that the equipment was wet from the earlier rain. Alone, Annie sat on a swing, kicked at the mud with the toe of her sneaker and tried to deal with the feelings that were swamping her.

  *

  SOMETHING WAS WRONG with Annie. Something more than just Joe being back in town. When he dropped Matt off, she was in the basement. He followed his son downstairs.

  “Mom, you down here?” Matt called out.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Geez, Mom, it’s late. What are you doing?”

  “Staining a dresser for Faith’s room.”

  “Why you working so late?”

  “It’s not that late.” She wouldn’t look at Joe. Her slender shoulders were tense beneath the white T-shirt. She’d taken off the denim shirt she’d worn over it to the game. “Did you have fun with the guys?”

  “Yeah, Taylor treated us all to pizza. Her father was a Triple-A baseball player in Rochester for years. Isn’t that neat?”

  Annie nodded.

  “She played softball in college, too.”

  “How nice for her.”

  “And she knew all the sports sayings from Dad’s book—where bullpen, pinch hitter and Eagle originated. I knew those, too. I found out where throw in the towel came from.” Matt chatted with the animation of a child totally oblivious to the adult tension around him. “In boxing, when a guy decid
ed he couldn’t fight anymore, he tossed an article of clothing used to soak up blood into the ring to show he was giving up. Isn’t that cool?”

  She said dryly, “Wonderful.”

  “Mom, you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Well, I’m gonna go call Tommy.” He headed for the staircase, where Joe leaned against the wall watching the byplay. “Thanks, Dad. See you tomorrow.”

  His arms crossed over his team T-shirt, Joe smiled at his son. “Uh, maybe not. I have to go into the city with Taylor in the morning. If I’m not back, I’ve made arrangements with Tucker to coach practice.”

  “Oh, well, okay. See ya Wednesday.”

  Joe watched Matt take the stairs two at a time. Then he turned back to his wife. “Annie, is something wrong?”

  “No.” She applied a strip of stain on the dresser with the concentration of a heart surgeon.

  “Did something happen? Faith isn’t sicker, is she?”

  “No.” She still didn’t look at him.

  “Linc?”

  “No. I said nothing’s wrong. Now leave me alone.”

  Hrrmph . He thought they’d made headway when they’d pulled together over Linc’s accident. “All right.”

  She turned to him just as he started upstairs. “You know,” she began, her words stopping his ascent. “This is a small town. And Matt’s an adolescent boy. Having women stay over at your place, and following them back to the city, isn’t necessarily a good role model.”

  Joe’s jaw dropped and he edged back downstairs. “What are you saying?”

  “If you’re sleeping with Taylor Cummings, you shouldn’t flaunt it.”

  A smile curved his lips.

  “Do you think this is funny?” Annie’s face showed shock. He was entranced by the color that rose up from the neck of her shirt to her cheeks.

  “A little.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe because Taylor and I are just friends.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “And because she’s gay.”

  Annie dropped the paintbrush onto the papers covering the cement floor. He watched a brown stain fan outward. “What?”

  “Taylor’s gay. She makes a point of not hiding it.” He narrowed his gaze on Annie. “But if and when I decide to sleep with somebody in Glen Oaks, I’ll be sure to be discreet.” He waited a moment. “Is that what’s got you in a snit?”

  “I’m not in a snit.”

  “Whatever you say.” He glanced up the steps. “I’m going to say good night to Faith and drop my mother off.”

  “Fine. Good night.” Her little-girl surly tone was so unlike her, it, too, made him smile.

  It wasn’t until he was almost home that it hit him that Annie’s behavior had smacked of jealousy.

  Fat chance, he told himself. You might gain her respect back, her trust with the kids. But she’ll never let you near her body again.

  Rightfully so. After what he’d done.

  He couldn’t bear to think about that night. Even the counselors had recommended that he put it out of his mind.

  Go find Taylor and talk about something else.

  That worked until he tried to fall asleep. And then, for the first time ever, his mind insisted on replaying every obscene detail….

  He’d been enraged because she’d been late from work. With a can of beer in his hand, he’d met her at the door. “Where the hell have you been?”

  Recognizing his belligerent stance, she’d said, in carefully modulated tones, “I told you, Suzie and I were staying late to plan the recital with Linda.” Linda was the former owner of DanceWorks, who Annie had eventually bought it from.

  “Suzie’s home. I called.”

  Annie crossed into the foyer, took off her coat and hung it up. “She left a little early. Look, Joe, I’m tired. I’m going to take a bath.”

  His hand had crumpled the beer can.

  She’d escaped to the bedroom before he could object, and locked the door. Matt was staying at Joe’s mother’s, and they were alone. Joe had splintered the locked door with his booted foot and barged in like a caveman who’d lost his mate. “Don’t you ever lock a door to me again. I’m your husband.”

  Clutching her open blouse, she swallowed hard, backed up. “I’m sorry. I…didn’t realize I locked it.”

  “My, don’t we have a lot of lies to tell tonight.” He grabbed her roughly by the arm. “Who were you with?”

  “No one.”

  “Who touched you?”

  “No one, Joe, I swear.”

  He ripped off the shirt she wore over a half leotard. Then tore off the bra. He studied her, making her shiver. “You’re black and blue below your breast. Who did it?”

  “You did. Last time you hit me.”

  “I don’t believe you.” He pushed her to the bed. Came down on top of her. It was then that she realized his intent. “Don’t Joey, please.”

  “Don’t? To your husband? You’re mine.” He’d shoved his hand into her underpants. “This is mine. Whenever I want.”

  “Please, you’ve never done this before. Please don’t do it now.”

  He slapped her then. Hard. She began to cry.

  He did it anyway. Roughly. Callously. Like some Neanderthal…

  Joe bolted out of bed, but the images accompanied him, so he let himself think hard about it. Psychologists were right. Rape was not a sexual act. It was an act of power. He’d never touched her intimately again after that. He’d known he’d stepped over a line. A month later, just after he’d hit her again, she’d told him she was pregnant, and he’d left town.

  After returning to Glen Oaks in March, and finding out he had a daughter, Joe had a whole new demon to face—he didn’t know if that was the night Faith was conceived. He couldn’t tell from her birthday. So Joe had convinced himself Annie was already pregnant the night of the rape. If she wasn’t, their sunny child…It made him ill, even now, to think about it. It just couldn’t be true.

  *

  ANNIE WENT UP on her toes, lifted her leg in a perfect arabesque and held it for two counts. Muscles pulsing, she breathed deeply and came down into a demi-plié, did two ronde de jambe’s on the floor and bent at the waist. She was ready to leap into the finale when she caught sight of Suzie entering the large mirrored practice room.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go ahead and finish.”

  Crossing to the barre, Annie picked up a towel. She swabbed her face and plucked at the sweaty sheer maroon blouse she wore over pink tights and a matching leotard. “No, that’s all right, I still have to work on the ending.”

  “You only got a couple of weeks, kiddo.” Suzie’s outfit mirrored hers, only she wore a DanceWorks sweatshirt over it.

  “Don’t remind me.”

  DanceWorks’ annual recital was in three weeks; the details of putting it on were endless, and the month preceding it was always crazy at the studio. Annie swore this would be the last recital she danced in. Every year, Suzie talked her into it, and every year Annie vowed it was her swan song.

  “You want to practice your jazz piece? I’ll critique it.” Annie smiled at her pretty sister-in-law. Fair was fair. Suzie performed, too.

  “Nah. I just came in to get away from Ma. She’s driving me nuts.”

  Grace Murphy pitched in at the end of the dance season for the recital. Right now, she was in working on the costumes with Rosa DeMartino. Annie had hired Rosa to help take care of last-minute details, then found she was a whiz at sewing. She and Grace were putting the finishing touches—feathers, beads and sashes—a on the costumes. Rosa had also proved to be competent office help.

  Grace had been unusually cold these last few weeks, since Linc’s accident. “What’s going on with your mother, Suz?”

  Suzie shrugged. “Same old same old.”

  Annie picked up the water bottle she’d brought in, took a swig and sank onto the floor. “Sit.”

  Wearily, Suzie approached her. Gracefully, she settl
ed down next to Annie. They faced each other, cross-legged. It was time for a girl-to-girl powwow.

  “Come on, Suz. You can tell me.”

  “It has to do with you.”

  “I figured that out.”

  “She’s bitchin’ about Rosa. ‘That the woman can’t do anything right. She should just stay home and let her husband take care of her.’” Suzie shook her brown curls. “I swear Ma’s stuck in the last century.”

  Annie sighed. Sam’s attack on Linc had spread through Glen Oaks like wildfire in a drought. The whole town knew about it.

  Unfortunately, Grace’s attitude was clearly unsympathetic to Rosa. “Think she knows?”

  “About Rosa or you?”

  “I meant Rosa.”

  “I think she senses both. Sort of like a kindred spirit. The point is it doesn’t matter. Somehow, Ma will always believe it’s the woman’s fault.”

  “Joe should talk to her.”

  Annie saw Suzie tense. She drew a finger along the groove in the wood flooring. “He’s tried, Annie. She won’t listen.” When Annie didn’t answer, Suzie looked up. “You think that’s an excuse, don’t you?”

  “Not exactly. It doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is that your mother doesn’t treat Rosa badly.”

  A grin split Suzie’s face. “The woman’s a find, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. I was going to ask you about hiring her permanently.”

  “Can we afford it?”

  “I think so. Having her work here would cut back on our hours considerably, which is what we both want.”

  “Well, if you…”

  “Annie?” Joe was at the door. Dressed in black nylon shorts and a T-shirt, his hair was windblown, and his face red. Though it was nine at night, he’d obviously been running. She hadn’t seen much of him since the week before, when they’d squared off in the basement.

  “Joe? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m looking for Rosa.” He smiled at his sister. “Hi, kiddo.”

  Suzie smiled. “Hi. Rosa’s in the other room with Ma.”

  “Why?” Annie asked. Something about Joe’s demeanor made her tense.

  “Sam’s back in town. I saw him going into Zip’s when I ran by.”