There was a lot wrong with that plan. She wasn’t even sure where to start. “What if it’s not somewhere you normally go? What if this guy tries to get you to meet him somewhere?”
“Well, that’s easy. I just don’t go to any meetings with him.”
The incredulous look he gave her made her feel a little silly. Still. “Okay, so you don’t go anywhere unusual until after the playoffs. I could just describe the location to you.”
“Can you?”
She cringed. In truth, the details were a little fuzzy thanks to all the blood she’d focused on at the end of the vision. “Sort of. It’s a space that’s under construction. I’m pretty sure there’s scaffolding and a sidewalk detour outside the building. And I think I’d remember the pattern of posters on the scaffolding if I saw it again.”
“But you can’t describe the posters without seeing them?”
She shook her head.
“Someplace under construction. That describes a lot of places in the city.”
“Nothing jumps out at you from your routine?”
He looked into the distance and frowned, as if trying to visualize. “Actually, I can’t think of any buildings being worked on anywhere around my normal haunts. That’s a little strange by itself.”
“But it’s good, right? Just stick to the places you know and you’ll be fine. End of story.”
The full force of his focus swung back to her, taking her by surprise with the intensity of his stare. That focus made him very good at his job, and she suddenly had a great deal of sympathy for the teams that had to face him in goal.
“Give me two weeks,” he said quietly.
She narrowed her eyes. “Two weeks for what?”
“To see all the places I go when I’m in town. Maybe you’ll spot something I haven’t noticed.”
“Alex, people will see us together. And I have a job. I can’t just follow you around for two weeks.”
“After hours, I’ll walk you through my routes.”
“There’s still that first problem.” She gave him a look when he didn’t react. “We’ll be seen together.”
He shrugged. “So we tell people we’re dating.”
“Whoa.” She launched out of the rocking chair. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
He stayed seated but leaned back a little to look up at her. She set her coffee mug down on her little round coffee table so she didn’t spill it. “I told you already, I’ll get fired.”
“It’s not a rule that you don’t date any of the players. One of the other PTs has had affairs with at least two of the guys.”
She froze just as she was about to start pacing and stared at him with wide eyes. “Who?”
“If she wants to tell you, she will. But as you see, I can be discreet.”
“If Joanne finds out…”
“She knows,” he said, with a slight tilt of his head to the side. “So long as it doesn’t interfere with your work and you keep things quiet, she looks the other way. Having something discouraged by the boss isn’t the same as it being a firing offense.”
That took some of the outrage out of her sails. Still, she wasn’t quite ready to sit down again. “You’ve known this all along?”
“Dating me won’t be the end of your career.”
“Fake dating, you mean. And there’s still the press to worry about. I can’t afford to land on Page Six.”
“Why? What’s the big deal?”
Her mouth actually dropped open. “What’s the big deal? Are you insane? I’m a witch! I have visions. Do you think if anyone in the press finds out about that, they’ll leave me alone? Even after we’re no longer supposedly dating? And that’s just the kind of attention that will get me fired.”
“Witch?”
She dropped her shoulders and resigned herself to giving him more than she’d ever meant to. Gesturing to her altar, she said, “I’m a practicing green witch. I don’t cast spells or anything.” At least not the fictionalized kind of spells people thought witches cast. “It’s my religion. I pray to a goddess and god. I burn incense and candles and revere nature.”
His gaze turned inward and she readied herself for his list of questions. People either got her religion or they didn’t, and the ones who didn’t, like her mother, tended to jump to all the wrong conclusions. But her religion wasn’t even the most private thing she wanted to protect. Being a green witch wasn’t something she tried to hide, even if she didn’t go around shouting her beliefs to every stranger she encountered.
The pyrokinesis, however, was not something she could afford to have made public. And once the press caught a whiff of her and started to dig, she wasn’t sure she could avoid her most secret of secrets getting out. Then losing her job would be the least of her problems.
“Green witch?” Alex said, his tone thoughtful. “I’ve never heard that term before. Is it like Wiccan?”
“Kind of. But I’m not Wiccan. There are similarities.”
“You belong to a coven?”
She was surprised he got the word right. “No. I’m too private for covens. My observances aren’t something I can share with others. Except occasionally my dad and grandmother.”
“They’re witches, too?”
“Dad is. Grandma is a Catholic with pagan leanings.” She smiled at the often repeated way her Yaya referred to her religious philosophy. “And I don’t want their privacy invaded by the press either. Dating you will open up a can of worms, Alex. Even if it’s only pretend dating.” She shook her head. “No. That won’t work.”
“I thought I made it clear I could protect your privacy.”
“You can protect your own. But you can’t guarantee some nosey gossip writer won’t pick me out as someone to investigate. I don’t hide my religion, but I don’t go around announcing it with a sign on my head either. I don’t want to deal with other people’s prejudices.”
“I can understand that. I don’t go around wearing a yarmulke or a Star of David either, though I don’t try to keep it secret when I go to Temple for the high holidays.”
For a moment, she was taken aback. It was common knowledge he was Jewish and, being a New Yorker, she never really thought about the fact. But she realized he was as private about his religion as she was. As private about that as he was everything in his life. Just like her.
“Guess you understand, then.”
“I grew up in North Dakota with immigrant parents who were used to keeping their Judaism a personal part of their lives. We weren’t exactly surrounding by a lot of other Jews. And after the treatment they got in Russia, the reason they immigrated, they were very private about their observances, even within the small Jewish community in Fargo.”
“That sounds familiar.” She settled back into the rocking chair, some of her worry receding. “I still think pretending to date is asking for trouble, though. But giving me a look at all the places you usually go is a good way for me to confirm the building you need to avoid.”
“So long as it’s not the arena or the training center, I think I can safely take the place I might get shot off my schedule until after the season is over.”
She relaxed further when she realized he wasn’t going to push the dating thing. Now that she’d calmed down, she knew she’d overreacted to the suggestion. He was right, they could keep her identity secret for a couple of weeks and the press probably wouldn’t notice her. Though she didn’t dare risk that kind of attention and got physically nauseous at the very idea of landing in the gossip pages, there was more to her rejection of the idea than just protecting her secrets.
She wasn’t sure she could pretend to date Alex and not get so caught up in the fantasy that she got her heart broken when it was all over. Going back to just being one of his several physical therapists, chatting with him like nothing had happened. Already she was going to have trouble with that. She liked the man too damned much. And she had wanted him for a long time now—even if she did try to repress the attractio
n.
Spending any amount of time with him was going to risk her balance and her heart. The less personal they made that time, the better. “What other reason can we give for spending time together? Something people won’t question? Hopefully something that leaves me this uninteresting side note in your life that doesn’t attract attention…” She trailed off as she studied him. “Wait. Your charities.”
“What about them?”
“You’re involved in several. Children’s and environmental causes.”
He nodded.
“Maybe we could tell people I’m setting up an environmental type charity. I don’t know, maybe something that involves protecting…something. And because I know you’re actively involved in those types of things, I’ve asked you to help me set things up, maybe lend your name to it.”
“You don’t think your boss will object to that?”
“Any more than dating you? I doubt it so long as I don’t ask you for money or bring this into work. And if she finds out, I’ll tell her I intended to make sure her Center gets a lot of good press out of my efforts. She’ll appreciate that.”
“You don’t want to be in front of the press,” he pointed out, much too logically. “Something like that would necessitate being in front of reporters.”
“Well then the whole thing falls apart before it goes too far. I don’t know. I’m thinking off the cuff here.”
“Easier if we just pretend to date. Your idea is pretty convoluted. Someone will figure out we’re lying, and the first thing they’ll assume is we were lying to cover up dating. That’ll draw even more attention.”
She started rocking again, tapping her foot at the same time as nervous energy jumped around her nerve endings. She made a conscious effort to keep her palms from heating while she had them on the rocking chair—even though her dad had gone to great pains to make sure the wood was treated so it was fire resistant.
“I hate this idea,” she said after a minute.
“The idea of dating me?”
The tone of his voice caught her attention, and she stared at him. “We’re not talking about real dating. We’re talking about pretending at something and hoping not to call attention to it. I hate pretending, and I hate the thought of the possible attention this will draw.”
“The attention we can control.” He tilted his head to one side. “You’re not embarrassed by your religion?”
“Of course not. I’m just private about it. I chose this path. I wouldn’t live it if I was embarrassed by it.”
“So is it really that big a deal if people find out?”
She really, really didn’t want to go further into this conversation. There were a lot of reasons to maintain her privacy. Her religion was just the easiest one to explain. Except he was making it harder to use. Damn him anyway, couldn’t he just accept she didn’t want the attention of the press and let it go? She glanced at the clock. “I’m hungry. We skipped lunch. I’m going to order a pizza. You want some?”
“Sure. I like meat on mine.”
“Don’t keep kosher, then? Fine. Pepperoni it is.”
“You’re not vegetarian?”
“No. Not all pagans are vegetarian. Just like not all Jews keep kosher.”
He nodded in acknowledgement. “Can I pay for the pizza?”
“No. I’ll be right back.” She escaped into the kitchen to place the call from her landline. She was avoiding and she knew it. Her grandmother would scold her for it, but she didn’t like this path she was on, and she didn’t know how to get off it. She didn’t want to spend time with Alex and discover he was even more sexy and smart and nice than she already considered him.
Weren’t professional athletes supposed to be womanizers and playboys? She’d be happier if he was one of those kinds of guys. Then she wouldn’t have to take him very seriously and could probably even play temporary love interest without any risk to her heart at all.
Alex was different. Everything about this situation was different. And she didn’t know how to make things right.
She could practically hear her grandmother reminding her she’d chosen this path, though she would be able to argue with Yaya about that. She hadn’t chosen the vision. But she had willingly gone to Alex to give him the warning. She’d made the decision to do the right thing. And now she had to continue to do the right thing, even if it made her uncomfortable.
She just hoped it didn’t leave her heartbroken and her life in complete turmoil.
Chapter Seven
“I still can’t believe I agreed to this,” Nathalie said, when she met Alex at the front door of her apartment building. He’d come to collect her in a Town Car, and she was surprised he could find someone willing to drive into Queens and back from Manhattan.
“You know it’s the simplest solution.” He held the car door for her.
“Yeah, yeah. I think you muddled my thinking with pepperoni.”
“The pizza was your idea.”
She settled into the back seat, fastening her seatbelt as she waited for him to come around. “So where are we going and how on earth is this part of your normal routine? Oh wait, don’t tell me. You frequently come into Queens to collect strange women for dates.”
“Queens is a little off my beaten track, but otherwise…”
She snorted and looked out the window so he wouldn’t know she was actually charmed by his stupid humor. Ever since agreeing to his plan last night, Nathalie was regretting the decision. She’d spent her day at work massaging sore muscles and trying to figure out a way to get out of her “date” that night. Fortunately, the team hadn’t come in that day, so she hadn’t had to face working on Alex while anticipating a night out with him.
Her stomach churned in silly little circles that made her feel ridiculous. This wasn’t a real date. He was taking her to a restaurant near his home, where he regularly went for dinner during the season. After dinner, since the weather was cooperating—cold but no snow or rain—they intended to go for a walk. This was their pretense to explore the area around his neighborhood for signs of the location Nathalie had seen in her vision. But he’d insisted on dinner first, since it wouldn’t look like a date otherwise. And he’d insisted on coming to pick her up because, again, otherwise it wouldn’t look like a real date.
She would much have preferred getting her own taxi in, or better yet the subway, which was both cheaper and brighter. Being stuck in the backseat of a dark car with Alex so close threw off her equilibrium. Not a real date, NJ, not a real date, she reminded herself. But her palms were definitely edging towards hot.
Taking a deep breath, she made the effort to lower the temperature building in her hands. She hadn’t had this much trouble controlling her heat levels since the pyrokinesis first manifested when she was four. She wanted very badly to blame Alex. But she knew damned well it wasn’t his fault she was so attracted to him. He couldn’t help being sexy and stunning and glorious.
“Where have you gone?” he asked.
The comment startled her and brought her back out of her head. “Sorry. Just thinking.”
“Too much.”
“Absolutely. So how was practice today?”
The white of his teeth flashed with his smile. “Good. Looking forward to the road trip tomorrow.”
“Good. Good.” She let silence fall again. She was not very good at small talk. Or rather, she was great at small talk when she was working on someone. She could get them to relax and ramble or she could stay silent if that’s what they preferred. The problem was, this wasn’t work, and he wasn’t a client right now, and she was too damned nervous for small talk.
The fact that there was a driver who could overhear them meant she couldn’t discuss the real issue at hand, either.
“You’re nervous,” he said.
Blowing out a breath that played with the tendrils of hair on her forehead, she nodded. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What would you normally do on a date?”
She laughed.
She couldn’t help it. “I wouldn’t normally be on a date with a famous hockey player. Nothing about any of this is normal.”
He reached across and took her hand, squeezing it. “Relax, have fun. This restaurant has great food. Enjoy it. And we’ll deal with things as they happen.”
Without trying to be too obvious, she pulled her hand from his because she could feel her skin heating and didn’t want him to notice the temperature change. “I know. You’re sure this isn’t going to get attention?”
He shrugged. “Richard here isn’t likely to call the press, are you Richard?”
“No, sir.”
The driver’s voice was laced with humor. And Nathalie realized the man must drive Alex regularly. No wonder he’d been willing to come all the way to Forest Hills.
“And I go to this restaurant often enough I doubt anyone is waiting to watch me eat. Especially on a Monday night. I’m not that interesting.”
She dropped her chin and gave him a look. “You’re one of the main reasons the Empires are headed for the playoffs. In this city, you’re interesting.”
“Trust me.” He leaned closer and she leaned back. “I’m trusting you.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she sighed. “Right. Right. Okay, fine.”
His mouth ticked up in a slight smile and he grabbed her hand again, holding on this time when she tried to pull away. She scowled down at their linked fingers and wondered why he was insisting on the contact. Pretend date! But his driver wouldn’t realize that. No one was supposed to know they weren’t really dating except them. So he was probably just putting on a show for the driver.
And she needed to remember that, too.
“Your hand’s very warm,” he commented.
Oops. She made an effort to cool them off. Nerves weren’t supposed to do this to her. She’d never had trouble controlling her heat output on other dates. What the hell was wrong with her? “Sorry.” She tried to pull her hand back, but he held tight.
“Don’t be. Makes you a good masseuse. You’re one of the few PTs who never starts with cold hands.”
“Guess I just have a fast metabolism or something,” she hedged. Her ability to warm her hands without outside help was one of the reasons she was so good at her job. But she was surprised he’d noticed.
Going All In Page 11
