by Anna Sugden
Ike shifted, trying to conceal his arousal. This conversation was too important to be derailed by his body’s personal agenda. He imagined an ice bath—like the ones he’d taken over the years after grueling games—and tried to figure out his next move.
Honesty was usually the best policy. Why not now?
“I should have apologized sooner and if I hadn’t been stuck here, I would have. But I kept hoping you’d stop by to see me, so I could do it face-to-face.”
Tracy arched an eyebrow haughtily. “Why would I come by, when you were rude last time?”
“I finally figured that out.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Then, the longer it went on, the harder it got to call. We’ve always argued, but we got over it quickly. This time was different. I knew a simple ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cut it.”
“So buttering me up by being nice about my business was the answer?”
“Yes. No.” He sighed. “I guess I thought it couldn’t hurt.”
Tracy studied his face, but Ike wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Finally, she asked, “Why go to the trouble of asking me to visit tonight? Why not ask me straight out for help?”
“Because I didn’t want you to think that’s all I was after. Look, whether you like how I approached it or not—whether you like me or not—I’m sorry for being a jackass. We don’t have to be friends, if you don’t want.” He wanted to add that that was what he wanted, but her expression gave nothing away and he couldn’t risk making things worse.
He plowed on. “I really need your help. If you’ll work with me, I’ll make sure it’s a good deal for you, and I don’t just mean financially.”
Tracy said nothing for a few moments. She hadn’t walked out, so she had to be considering what he’d said. He couldn’t resist trying to sweeten the pot. “I’ll accept whatever terms you want to give me.”
“Any terms? Seriously? You really are desperate.”
“You try being stuck here with every move monitored and observed. I’m not even allowed to have a shower. Do you know how humiliating a sponge bath is?”
Her mouth twitched. “I’d have thought there would be women lining up outside your room for the chance to give you a sponge bath.”
“Yeah, well, the ones who ‘lucked out’ are either old enough to be my grandmother or young enough to be my kid. It’s a nightmare and one I’d happily not go through again. Once I’m allowed up, I can shower, though I’ll have to be accompanied. Just in case.”
He caught her gaze and held it. The hint of sympathy in those brown depths spurred him to continue. “It’s bad enough being sidelined for the next four months. I really don’t want to spend a second longer in here than I have to.”
“I can understand that. But you probably have a disgustingly fast healing rate and will beat your surgeon’s predictions.”
“It’ll still feel like forever. You can see why people would be willing to cheat and take a little something extra to help speed the process along.”
Tracy looked shocked. “I can’t see you doing that, Mr. Everything-by-the-book. Heck, you probably wrote the book.”
“Hell, no. I wouldn’t touch the stuff. I guess I didn’t get the appeal before, because I’ve only ever missed a few games in my career. Man, am I making up for that now.”
Tracy leaned forward, her expression earnest. “Don’t try to look at your recovery as one big chunk. Think of it more as a series of stages and try to get through those stages one at a time. Kind of like on the ice, one shift at a time.”
“I’m trying. It’s easier said than done.” Ike hated the whine he heard in his voice. This damn injury was making him soft and pathetic.
“Isn’t it always?”
“I guess.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I want to go home and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Including being nice to me.” This time, there was no bite to her words.
“Including throwing myself on your mercy and appealing to your generous soul and kind heart.” He put on a woebegone expression. “I’m also prepared to beg.”
“Now, that I’d like to see.” Tracy laughed. “I’m almost tempted to hold out just to see how far you’d go.”
“All the way.”
The words hung in the air between them, taking on a meaning he hadn’t intended. A deeper, hotter meaning. One that made the room feel smaller, more intimate, and that challenged the control he had over his body.
Tracy lifted her gaze to meet his. She swallowed hard and licked her lips. So he wasn’t the only one who felt the electricity between them.
She cleared her throat. “I’m not stupid enough to cut off my nose to spite my face.”
His heart jolted. “You’ll help me?”
“I will.” She sounded like she’d agreed to fight a gladiator in the middle of the Colosseum.
Relief swept through him. No matter how she felt about him personally, Tracy would deliver whatever he needed. “Great. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He wanted to argue, but knew he should quit while he was ahead. “All right. How about I’ll do everything I can to make sure you don’t regret it?”
“Fair enough.” She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a notepad and pen. “I warn you, I’ll want a full and detailed reference from you for my services. I’ll also want to be able to quote you in all my promotional materials.”
“No problem.”
“And not being friends is not a deal-breaker?”
Her casual question was like a stick spear to the gut. “We got along okay—better than okay—once. But if that doesn’t work for you, then I’ll cooperate.” He wouldn’t be happy about it, though.
She tilted her head and gave a half smile. “We don’t have to be friends for me to work with you, but it would certainly make things more pleasant if we weren’t enemies.”
It was a foot in the door. He’d take it. “I’m willing to give our—” what should he call it? “—relationship a reboot, if you are.”
“Instead of a reboot, which sounds as though we could repeat the mistakes we made before, how about a fresh start?”
“Sounds perfect.” He stuck out his good hand to seal the deal. “I’m all for not repeating past mistakes.”
Tracy grasped his hand. Her touch was the best medicine he’d had in days. He could feel warmth flooding through his veins, easing the tension that seemed to have taken hold of his body since the accident.
Neither of them moved to break the connection. They sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts for several moments.
His thumb stroked the back of her hand. Hers did the same to his. That simple touch seemed to do more to heal the rift between them than anything they’d said. He could see the pulse beating at the base of her throat. He longed to lean forward and press his lips to the spot.
Tracy slipped her hand away and retrieved the papers from the bedside cabinet. “Since you’re keen to get out of here, we should get started,” she said crisply.
Ike missed her touch instantly. His mind started thinking about ways he could get to hold her hand again. Or more. His erection sprang to life again. Damn. Not now. Focus. “Yeah. Sure.”
Tracy scanned the list, making notes here and there. Ike was fascinated by the change in her as she slipped into business mode. Her body became stiffer, more upright, and her movements were as brisk as her tone.
“It seems to me that your life would be much easier over the next few months if you had a housekeeper—someone to manage and coordinate all your household requirements.”
He frowned. “I don’t want an old lady living in my house, telling me what to do.”
“First of all, most of them aren’t old. How else could they do the work? Second, she or he wouldn’t ha
ve to live in.”
“He? There are male housekeepers?” His lip curled. What kind of man put on an apron and played with a feather duster?
“Of course there are.” She laughed. “It’s not that different from a butler. Anyway, I can provide a list of suitable candidates and you can select the one you want.”
“I’m still not sure why I need a housekeeper. Can’t my cleaning service do what I need?”
“They might do laundry and ironing, but they won’t cook or buy your groceries. A housekeeper could do all of that and more. It’s efficient and cost-effective.”
“All right. Sounds good.”
“I’ll also check out both a car service and a driver, since you can’t drive yourself.”
Crap. “Nice catch. I’d forgotten about that.”
Tracy stood and stuffed her pad and pen back in her purse. “The sooner I get onto this, the sooner I’ll have a costed proposal and the sooner you’ll be able to get out of here. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”
“Thanks again for doing this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s worth my while.” She smiled. “Start working on that recommendation and don’t stint on words like outstanding and excellent.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say, ma’am.”
“And try not to piss off any more nurses.”
Ike blinked with mock innocence. Who, me?
Tracy laughed and, shaking her head, waved goodbye as she left.
After she’d gone, Ike felt surprisingly buoyant. He could rely on Tracy to get the job done. She would never let a client down. He was as good as out of here. Once he got home into familiar surroundings and away from the hovering nursing staff, his recovery would progress quickly.
He’d work with the Ice Cats staff to pull together some form of training routine. He wanted to be back on the ice in three months, not four. That would give him a month of the regular season to get game-ready for the playoffs. This was doable.
Eager to watch the game, Ike flicked on the TV. He groaned. Four–nothing. With his luck lately, the Ice Cats would already have been eliminated by then.
* * *
“THREE NEW CLIENTS? I should be upset that you’re doing so well without me.”
Maggie’s exaggerated pout made Tracy smile. “Your mummy is being silly,” she said in a singsong voice to baby Joe, who lay contentedly her arms. “Isn’t she?”
He blinked and smacked his lips, as if agreeing with her.
They were enjoying a casual lunch in Maggie’s living room, sitting with their feet up on the sofa, while Jake was at practice. After the previous night’s loss, Coach Macarty had called all the players in early and told them to expect to stay late.
“Your mummy knows I couldn’t have done it without her.” Tracy kissed Joe’s button nose. Joe gurgled and kicked his legs. “Helping Hands was her idea, wasn’t it? Yes, it was.”
“But you’re the one who made it a reality.” Maggie pointed a slice of buttered baguette at her. “Today the Bridgers, tomorrow all the major sports franchises in the tri-state area.”
“I like your optimism. It’s a start. We should get a great reference from Mme. Chabal. She’s already singing our praises and she hasn’t even arrived yet.”
“Trust me, global domination will be ours.” Maggie gave a witchlike cackle.
Tracy laughed, startling her nephew, who scrunched up his face and looked ready to bawl.
“It’s okay,” she soothed, lifting the baby up and resting him against her shoulder. She rubbed his back gently, loving the way he snuggled into her neck. “We probably can’t even manage domination of northern New Jersey, so Mummy won’t turn into an evil villain.”
“I don’t know. Lack of sleep may yet do me in. Young sir is feeding every couple of hours at the moment and barely sleeping in between. Good job he’s cute, or I’d be trading him in for a kitten.”
“I wouldn’t let you do that to my gorgeous nephew.” Even if he was drooling onto her shoulder, creating a damp patch on her sweater.
“Change his nappies and you’ll see how not-gorgeous he can be. It’s easy being the adoring aunty. You get all the nice bits, then hand him back to me.”
“Them’s the breaks, kid,” Tracy teased, but her heart squeezed.
Every time she cuddled Joe, she lost another piece of her heart to her nephew. He’d awakened maternal feelings in her that she hadn’t felt since her marriage ended. Not for the first time since his birth, Tracy found herself wondering what it would be like to hold her own baby.
A loud burp from Joe cut those thoughts short. The chances of her having a baby were nonexistent. Heck, she wasn’t even dating. And she firmly believed in doing things the right way round—husband, then baby. Besides, there wasn’t room in her life at the moment for either a husband or a baby, let alone both.
Maggie’s heavy sigh cut into Tracy’s thoughts. “Mum called yesterday evening.”
“I got a message from her, too. Do I want to know what she had to say?”
“Same old, same old. We live too far away. We don’t visit enough. It isn’t fair that she can’t see her grandchildren, when Jake’s parents can.”
“We’ve offered countless times to pay for her to visit and she makes the same excuses.”
“We made our beds when we went over there and brought her here for a visit after Dad died.” Maggie grimaced. “I admit I didn’t try too hard to convince her this time. As sorry as I feel for her, I don’t really want her here. The last thing I need right now is her telling me I’m doing everything wrong or rearranging the house to be the way she thinks it should be. Rather, how Dad thought it should be. Does that make me a bad person?”
“Well, if you are, I’m just as bad. I don’t want her here, either. I’m actually more afraid of Mum deciding she wants to stay permanently.” Their mother’s dependence was hard enough to take in small doses. Especially as she wasn’t as helpless as she liked to pretend.
“We won’t let that happen. No matter how much she whines or cries.”
The sisters exchanged determined looks and nodded. They were united about that; none of their mother’s guilt trips would sway them. Besides representing a painful past for both sisters—in seeking to avoid turning into their mother, they’d each made terrible mistakes—Doris Hayden had never given them even an ounce of motherly support.
“Speaking of difficult people, you haven’t mentioned your visit to Ike last night.”
“How did you know?” Tracy’s eyes widened with surprise.
“I have my sources.” Maggie gave her a superior look, then grinned. “Actually, Jake told me. He’s been worried that Ike might be a macho idiot and try to do everything himself once he’s released. When Jake raised it with him a few days ago, Ike put up a big front about how he was okay and shot down any suggestion of needing help. I don’t know why they have to pretend to be so tough. Admitting they’re not invincible doesn’t make them any less men.”
Tracy laughed. “Dr. Gibson was smart to make Ike’s discharge contingent on him having support.”
“Ike told Jake this morning that everything was under control. That you’re going to look after him,” Maggie said questioningly.
Tracy nodded. “He’ll pay the going rate and it’s a foot in the door with the Cats for Helping Hands.”
“Uh-huh. I seem to recall you telling me repeatedly that you’d never work for Ike again. Something about hell freezing over.”
“Oh, look—a snowflake.”
“Funny.” Maggie’s lips twisted. “Come on, give.”
Tracy wasn’t ready to discuss the reasons for her changed attitude, even to her sister. Partly because she wasn’t quite sure how things between her and Ike had en
ded up in such an optimistic place.
Convinced that nothing Ike said could appease her, she’d been prepared to tell him to stick his excuses where the sun didn’t shine. Yet, once again, his openness and his sincerity had disarmed her. She’d sensed his desperation about going home; he hadn’t tried to hide it. Perhaps it had been the catalyst that had driven his apology, too. But she’d also believed his desire to put things right between them was genuine. For the first time, it had felt like there could actually be something between them other than antagonism.
Still, it was all too new. Her emotions were all over the place. She wasn’t sure how she felt about any of it.
Maggie’s expectant look said she wasn’t going to let the subject drop.
“Okay, so Ike wouldn’t have been my first choice of client,” Tracy admitted. “But it seemed crazy to turn down a great opportunity because we don’t get along. Under the circumstances, I think it’s a win-win situation. It won’t be a huge amount of work.” Tracy explained what she and Ike had discussed. “And Ike’s reference for Helping Hands will be invaluable. Such a high-profile professional athlete raving about our services will carry a lot of weight with other players and other organizations.”
In an attempt to distract her sister, Tracy stroked Joe’s head and said, “I think he’s gone to sleep.”
Maggie took the bait and stood. “Let me try to put him down.”
Tracy missed the weight and warmth of her nephew once she’d handed him back. “Speaking of other organizations, there’s some possible good news on the horizon. I’ve had an inquiry from a bloke at NBC. They’re reorganizing some of their departments, which will involve senior staff relocating in and out of New Jersey, and are keen to hear what we can offer them.”
“Ooh, that sounds interesting.” Maggie’s face lit up. “I wonder if we’ll have to work with any of their big stars.”
“It’d be tough, but I’m sure we’d make the sacrifice for the good of our company.”
