“May I help you?” she asked through the crack between the door and the jamb.
“I have a package for Miss Jane Alexander.” He held the box up as if to provide evidence.
She was confused, her brows pulled tightly together. “A package?” She closed the door, slid the chain free, and opened it to accept the box. She mumbled a ‘thank you’, feeling a bit numb.
He turned and strode away before she could even think to offer a tip. Holding the box out in front of her like it might blow up, she kicked the door closed with her bare foot.
The package was the size and shape of the box her newest boots had come in. She padded over to the small table next to the window and put the box down. With a quick tug she released then ribbon then used the small pocketknife on her keys to cut through the tape that held the lid closed. She plucked at the white tissue paper, pulling it away from the contents.
Still confused Jane dragged a white Rockets jersey from the box. She turned it around and laughed when the navy letters across the back spelled Pierce. Clutching it to her chest she giggled, spinning in circles like a love-struck idiot.
Grayson hadn’t been impressed by her Diamondbacks shirt. He’d not criticized then, but was obviously making a statement now.
She had to remind herself not to read too much into the fact that the jersey had his name on the back. Really, did she expect him to send one with Xavier on it?
Lifting the box from the table she noticed that it wasn’t empty. There was a navy blue envelope at the bottom, nearly hidden by all the see-through white paper. The almost unreadable scrawl was one she recognized. She’d spent hours trying to decipher it during their tutoring sessions. With fingers that shook, she opened the card.
If you’re with the team, you should look like you’re one of us.
I enjoyed dinner. Can I see you again?
-Grayson
GRAYSON PACED AROUND HIS ROOM, TRYING not to drive himself crazy. His little present would be delivered to Jane anytime now. He didn’t know what he expected; it wasn’t like she had a way to get a hold of him. And there was no way in hell the front desk would help her track him down. Even they weren’t sure which name he was registered under. Truth was … he wasn’t sure he could remember.
When he’d seen her across the entry of the restaurant his heart had soared. The moment he noticed her shirt, his heart had dropped to his toes and his stomach rolled. She was making a statement by wearing the opposing team’s colors, he got that. What he didn’t get was her reasoning; did she really hate him? Had he really messed things up so badly all those years ago? He sure wished he knew what he’d done.
He guessed all would be known tomorrow. If she wore the shirt, that was good. If she didn’t…? Well, he wouldn’t think about that possibility.
He forced himself to climb into bed and turn off the light. Tomorrow’s game was big, and he really needed to get some sleep. He closed his eyes, knowing damn well that his dreams would be filled with Jane Alexander.
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, JANE SPENT EXTRA time on her hair and make-up. By some miracle she had a navy tank top in her suitcase and put it on before tugging the white jersey over her head. She had never been so proud to have a name across her back.
The game seemed to fly by, despite the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. Nate did his thing and she took notes so the story would come together easily when she delivered her report. This was game five and the Rockets’ win meant they would be going to the playoffs.
As the team raced into the locker room, the masculine cheers and yells made her ears hurt. Grayson smiled when he saw her, his eyes twinkling as he slowly took in her appearance from head to toe and back up.
Heat flooded her cheeks and she hoped he didn’t notice her blush. He stopped for only a moment in front of her.
“I see you got my gift.” His fingers trailed down her arm, causing goose bumps to blossom in their wake. He squeezed her hand. “It looks good on you.”
“Great game.”
“Thanks.”
And without another word, he slipped from her side, engulfed by the wave of people, high-fiving his way through the crowd.
She was aware of every movement he made and had gotten used to the way he almost avoided her. It still bugged her that other reporters got the best soundbites, but she was wearing his name on her back—just like he wanted.
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, WITH INTERviews done, Jane looked around the parking lot and waited for Nate to stow all the gear in the rear of the rented Explorer. She leaned back against the truck and bent her knee to rest her foot against the tire.
Xavier came out of the building and crossed toward them, instead of going to the high-dollar vehicles in the other direction.
“Lookin’ good, Jane. Mmm-mmm-mmm! You look real good in Rockets’ blue.” He licked his lips, his finger made a circling motion. “Turn for me. Work it.”
She didn’t turn around. Didn’t work it.
“Good game tonight.” She’d hoped to change the subject to Xavier’s favorite topic—himself.
But for the first time in his self-centered life, he refused to be distracted. “Come on, sweet thing, who’s name you sportin’?” His hands were hard and rough as they grabbed her upper arms and tried to physically turn her.
“Let go of her,” Nate growled. “Now!”
Xavier puffed out his chest like a rooster in a barnyard and dropped his hands to his sides, forming fists. Hazel eyes narrowed in challenge. He widened his stance, squaring off against Nate.
“Or what? You gonna start a brawl, big man? That’d be a good way to get yourselves—”
“Xavier!”
All three of them turned to see the coach scowling as he walked toward them. Xavier groaned. Nate breathed a sigh of relief and Jane decided she wasn’t going to puke.
“Leave Miss Alexander alone.”
Xavier ran a finger down her cheek and she refused to let herself flinch. She stood with her shoulders back, her eyes narrowed as they met his.
“No harm done, sweet thing. I just wanted to see if you belonged to me.”
“I belong to no one,” she snapped and waited until he backed away. Only then did she look at Nate. His hands were in fists, his feet wide, his every muscle coiled and ready to spring into action.
In that moment, she realized that Nate was ready to fight to protect her, just like any good big brother did for his little sister.
His breath was slow, controlled as he tried to slow his adrenaline. She turned and stepped closer to him, her hand extended. “Nate, are you o—”
“I knew it!” Xavier yelled.
She could hear the animosity in his voice, but wasn’t prepared to turn and meet hostility that enveloped every other part of him. Every muscle was taut, his mouth curled up in a snarl.
“You’re a Pierce girl! You see that, Pierce. The little reporter wants you.”
She hadn’t realized that Grayson was even around, but he must be if Xavier yelled at him. Her first reaction was to be embarrassed that he’d witnessed her humiliating exchange with Xavier, but then she spotted him crossing the lot. He walked with a swagger and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling in anticipation.
Grayson would set Xavier straight. She looked forward to seeing Xavier put in his place. But Grayson didn’t come near her, didn’t slow his pace. His eyes scanned her up and down and he licked his lips. He’d done the same thing in the locker room, but this time it felt different. This time he looked … positively lecherous. Jane’s skin crawled. Then he smiled; a gloat-filled grin.
“Add her to the list.”
“What the hell?” Nate murmured behind her.
She’d been thinking that exact phrase with the exception of a more profane expletive on the end. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked violently to keep them at bay. Her heart clenched and her throat grew tight, making it hard to swallow.
She never should have trusted Grayson to p
rotect her. Had history taught her nothing?
“Let’s get out of here.” Nate’s touch was soft, strong, and supportive on her shoulder. “Come on, kid, let’s get the hell out of here.”
She didn’t want to look up into his face, but found that’s where her eyes went. Big mistake! His baby blues were sympathetic and kind, which only made the battle to keep her feelings in check that much harder.
“Come on.” He took her elbow and led her to the passenger side. Once she was settled in her seat, he handed her a tissue. She wasn’t sure where he’d gotten it, but it looked clean and her nose was running. Her cheeks were damp. She was crying.
When had she started to cry?
Had Grayson seen?
Would he even care if he had?
“Do you want me to go kick some ass?”
She giggled, a little blubbering sound that made Nate smile. She smiled, too. “No, let’s just go home.”
The team was off for a few days, then the National League playoffs would send them back out on the road. Jane was grateful for the reprieve. Her hatred for Grayson Pierce had been restored to its prior glory. She would never let him worm his way back into her heart.
Grayson Pierce could go to hell!
GRAYSON WATCHED IN HIS REAR VIEW MIRROR as Jane’s SUV pulled out of the parking lot. He had to admit that she looked pretty damned good wearing Rockets’ blue, and he really liked that it was his name across her back. Like a stamp of ownership. And Grayson wanted to own her.
The tires on his rental car squealed as he roared out of the parking space. Easing to a stop at the exit of the lot, he waited for an opening between cars then with a chirp of the tires he flew out into traffic. He opened his phone and called his agent, the man who got him whatever he wanted.
“What can I do for you?”
“I need a favor.” Grayson relayed what he wanted which, surprise surprise, wasn’t met with any kind of reprimand.
The man chuckled.
“Okay,” Kevin said, “I’ll have it delivered to your room in an hour.”
“Make it thirty minutes and there will be a bonus for you.” Money was the one thing that spoke volumes with Kevin. The man was as greedy as Grayson himself. That was probably why they got along so well.
“Thirty minutes then.” Kevin paused for a heartbeat. “Because of the nature of your request, I ask that you try to keep it low key.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He hated when Kevin got all fatherly. Grayson had a father and didn’t want another one. Kevin had one job and one job only … to kiss Grayson’s ass. “Give it a rest, Kevin.”
THIRTY MINUTES LATER THERE WAS A knock at his door. The smile on his face grew. He had big plans for tonight.
Opening the door he stared at the girl standing in the hallway. She was exactly what he’d requested; thin with curves in all the right places, brown hair that rested at her shoulders. The eyes were wrong and the face was a bit thinner around the mouth, but she would do.
Oh, yes. She would do just fine.
Grayson had to hand it to Kevin, the guy was good.
Grayson opened the door wider to allow her entrance. “Please come in, Jane.”
Her perfectly arched brows pulled together in the middle. “My name’s—”
He silenced her with a press of his fingers to her lips. Her voice was wrong too. Which was okay, he had a gag that would cure that particular problem. He tried to ignore the irritation he felt building and forced a smile.
“Tonight, you are Jane … and you will call me ‘Master’.”
“Yes, Master,” she purred, coming in and closing the door behind her.
5
JANE WASN’T SURE HOW SHE’D DONE IT, BUT she’d survived the playoffs. The Rockets lost two games to three in the National League Playoffs. There would be no World Series for them this year. She couldn’t say she was totally heartbroken over the outcome. Although she refused to examine the realization that she did feel bad for Grayson.
Sitting at her desk in the newsroom, Jane waited for her cue to head into the studio. Kate Spencer, KHB’s main anchor, was currently delivering the news in the B segment. Hard news was the A segment, lighter stuff came in the B, weather C and sports in the D.
“Jane, I’ve got a call for you,” Jordan called from the assignment desk.
If the newsroom was the central nervous system, then the assignment desk was the brain. Jordan told everyone where to go and what to do. At least for the news crews.
Sports kind of did their own thing, unless breaking news happened to a sports figure. Then she might get recruited to do the story.
“Who is it?” Jane asked, looking over the sea of cubicles to the red-haired man holding the phone up in illustration.
His shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “You wanna take it or not?”
Calls into the assignment desk weren’t uncommon, but very seldom did a random call get put through to a reporter. Most were stopped at the front desk, bless Lydia’s heart. If—and that’s a big if—a call made it to the newsdesk, they were almost always stopped there. More a safety measure than anything.
There were a lot of crazies out there … and they all wanted to get to know the people that were perceived as local celebrities. Little did they know every person sitting in the newsroom was an average, every-day schmuck just trying to make it through the day.
“Take a message,” she told Jordan.
“You should take this one,” he said stamping a veto all over her decision.
And her phone rang.
If he was going to put it through anyway, then why did he even bother to ask, she thought irritably.
She glared at him and glanced at the clock. Five minutes. She could spare five minutes, but literally only five minutes for the person on the phone.
“KHB Sports, can I help you?”
“Janie.”
That one word, spoken by that one person in that low, sexy voice made her insides turn to jelly. Breath froze in her lungs. Self-preservation shouted at her to hang up. Instinct told her heart to start beating again.
“Janie, are you there?”
“What do you want, Grayson?” She was quite proud of herself that her voice was strong, with the right amount of irritation. She was also glad that he couldn’t see her, because her knuckles were white as she gripped the phone. Her spine was straight and her teeth ground together.
“I wanted to apologize?”
“You? Apologize?” She laughed mockingly. “And just what exactly do you have to apologize for? You’re the almighty Grayson Pierce. You don’t owe anyone an apology, least of all me.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
The words were spoken with such honest contrition that they were like a knife to her heart. She would not cry. She would not cry! She blinked as a tear slid down her cheek. Damn! Grayson had done some really shitty things over the years—but this was the worst.
The jerk thing she could handle. In fact, it fortified her defenses against him. When Grayson was kind, when he spoke sweetly to her, when he looked at her like he finally saw her as the confident woman she was … well, that was when her carefully erected walls crumbled.
“I gotta go. I’m on air in … shit!”
The floor director was waving his arms over his head. “Jane! Two minutes.”
She hung up without saying another word to Grayson and, grabbing her mirror to check her make-up, headed for the studio.
“WELL HELL, THAT COULDN’T HAVE GONE worse,” Grayson groaned to the emptiness around him.
He tossed the phone down on the granite countertop where it skidded down the surface, luckily coming to a stop before tumbling off the edge. He leaned against the wall, knocking his head a few times. Jane deserved an apology. And she sure as hell didn’t deserve the firestorm that was going to land on her head tomorrow morning.
When he’d picked up the phone to call her, he’d meant to apologize. He’d meant to tell her what was brewing. In
stead she’d misunderstood his intentions and lashed out at him. He’d heard the shake in her voice, which meant he’d also made her cry. He really was an ass!
Grabbing his keys he headed out the door. There was only one place that could bring him solace. He had responsibilities and he needed to take care of them. Daisy was due soon and she depended on him.
JANE REGRETTED ANSWERING HER PHONE, and wondered if she could avoid ever answering a phone again. Thankfully she’d made it through the sportscast without a single snuffle.
After watching her report and making sure that she came across as composed she gathered her things to leave.
“Goodnight,” she said to Jordan, hiking her laptop bag onto her shoulder. He was on the phone and raised his hand in farewell.
“What’s the rush?”
Jane cringed. She could hide her emotions from the world, from her co-workers and her viewers. Unfortunately there was one exception.
“Hey, Molly.”
As Jane turned she came nose to nose with Molly, who stood with her hands on her hips. Her long blond curls tumbled down around her shoulders. Her brows rose for a moment before pinching together as she narrowed her eyes. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Yeah, not even Jane bought that.
“Wanna try again?”
“No.” Jane slumped down into her chair and groaned.
“Lemme guess.” Molly sat down on the corner of Jane’s desk. “Grayson?”
Jane looked up at her best friend … and hated that Molly knew her so well. “He called and I kinda ripped into him. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Why do you let him get to you? Never mind. I know.” Molly shook her head. “Let’s get out of here.”
Molly and Jane lived in the same condo community. It wasn’t a coincidence. They’d been friends for years and had purposely tried to land jobs at the same station. Jane did sports. Molly did weather.
In It to Win It Page 5
