Emma had figured Gigi Snow would be vindictive. No one humiliated her family that way and got away with it.
Emma leaned back in her chair. “I’m sorry.”
Ben shrugged, his expression hardening. “It’s to be expected, I guess. Nobody wants a son-in-law with a criminal record.”
“Do you have one now?”
Benjamin nodded and raked a hand through the neatly trimmed layers of his hair. “My attorney entered a guilty plea for me this morning. No sentence has been handed down yet, but because I was able to return all the stolen goods, the district attorney is going to ask for two to five years’ community service and a hefty fine in lieu of a jail sentence. The D.A. figures I would be of more use helping underprivileged youth and going around to schools, talking to kids about how easy it is to take a wrong turn, than working in some prison laundry. They think kids will listen to me when I tell them I lost my job, my house, my cushy life and my fiancé.”
With his sales-and-marketing background, Emma knew he was likely to be a very effective spokesperson against crime. She figured the rest of his life was going to be a lot harder for him to deal with. “That’s a lot of loss to handle at one time.” Emma knew how hard it was just to lose a husband, when you still had a career you loved to fall back on.
Benjamin ran a hand over his face. The sorrow turned to acceptance. He sighed and went on to reveal in an uncharacteristically self-effacing tone, “The odd thing is I’m a lot happier now that I’m no longer trying to be something or someone I’m not. I think I’ve realized for a while now that my marriage to Michelle was not going to work. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t get along with her family. They loathed me.”
“What about Michelle?”
“She fell in love with a marketing whiz, an up-and-comer. Now that I’m no longer that person—well, let’s just say there’s no chance for reconciliation there, either.” His jaw hardened with determination. “But that’s okay. I’ve got a lot of work to do on myself before I get involved with anyone. And as far as my legal difficulties go, it could have been a lot worse. Believe me—” he released a tortured sigh “—I know that.”
Emma knew what it was like to make a mistake. Behave one way and wish you hadn’t. “What happened?” Emma asked sympathetically, indicating he should take a chair. “How did you get mixed up in something like this?”
Benjamin shook his head in silent but heartfelt regret as he sat and stretched his legs out in front of him. “I’ve been asking myself that all weekend. You met my parents. You saw how modest my own upbringing was.”
Emma nodded. “I gathered, yes.”
“I just wanted more for myself. That’s why I went into marketing and business in college—because I felt there was more money to be made in those fields—why I chose to work in an exclusive country club and sell golf memberships to the wealthy. I figured my chances of falling in love with a wealthy young woman were that much greater.” He sighed. “I didn’t bargain on how hard it was going to be to keep up with a family like the Snows.”
No kidding. “They put a lot of pressure on you to help finance the wedding to Michelle.”
Benjamin grimaced. “I think, in a sense, they were trying to make me cry uncle, but I was stubborn. I was not going to let Gigi or Mason Snow tell me I wasn’t good enough for their daughter, no matter what I had to do. And I quickly realized I couldn’t begin to afford on my own what Gigi was asking me to fork over. So I began casting around for a way to make a lot of money quickly. I put some money in the stock market. Unfortunately, the stocks I purchased were high risk as well as high yield and that didn’t pan out.
“In the meantime, two men came in to the country club looking for landscaper jobs. I was given the task of interviewing them, but I was told from the get-go that we weren’t going to hire them, because they had criminal records for breaking and entering and grand theft. When I asked them why they had done it, in the course of their interviews, they said, ‘Because it was so easy.’ Well, those words stayed with me, and I got to thinking about how expensive the golf clubs were that a lot of the members used, and how easy it would be to steal them. I told myself we weren’t really hurting anyone, since most of them had insurance on their clubs. So I began tipping off the two thieves, telling them when people were going to be out of town, and when that still wasn’t enough, I helped them break into the pro shop at the club.”
“Joe’s memorabilia…?”
“I was there when Helen asked him to take it home. I had no idea how much it was worth, but I was desperate. Gigi was ordering all those orchids from Hawaii, and then the first batch was stolen at the airport. It was such a mess. I panicked. Or maybe I wanted to get caught, so I’d have no choice but to end the madness. God knows I was having a hard time living with myself, with what I had turned into. I wanted a way out from all the dishonesty and the constant fear I was going to get caught.” He paused. “Tell Joe I’m sorry, too. If you see him before I do.”
“I will,” Emma promised, struck by the courage Benjamin was displaying. She didn’t know if she would be able to hold her head up half as high under similar circumstances.
“What are you thinking?” Ben asked.
Emma sat back in her chair. “I admire your ability to make such drastic changes.”
“Yeah, well,” Ben sighed, obviously thinking of his night in the Holly Springs jail, “if there’s one thing I’ve learned this weekend, it’s this. If you’re headed in the wrong direction—U-turns are allowed.”
BENJAMIN POSEN’S PROPHETIC words stayed with Emma, long after he had left to continue his round of apologies. His life had been turned upside down with his arrest. He could have cowered, felt sorry for himself, made excuses for his behavior, become a permanent victim, but he hadn’t. Instead, he had taken a good hard look at himself and owned up to his mistake. He had realized he didn’t really love Michelle, that he had wanted and needed a way out, and had seen—however subconsciously and inadvertently—that he had gotten one.
And if Benjamin Posen could do that…why couldn’t she? Emma wondered as she slid the completed bill for Gigi and Mason Snow into the envelope and sealed it.
Not that their situations were at all the same, Emma thought as she put the stamp on the envelope. No. Her marriage had crumbled because she hadn’t possessed the courage to ignore the evidence to the contrary and believe in Joe. Because she had been afraid to tell Joe how she really felt, how deeply she was in love with him.
Instead, she had hurled the accusations that she had known were sure to make him walk out on her. And take with him the possibility of ever being hurt—or loved—by him again.
Emma sighed as she turned off her printer and began the process of shutting down her computer. Two days had passed. She was as lonely and heartbroken as could be. And until this moment, too stubborn and proud to do anything to reverse the situation.
There was no guarantee, of course, that even if she went to Joe now and tried to take it all back that her attempt at reconciliation would work.
But if she didn’t try, Emma told herself firmly, she would never know. And Emma didn’t think she could stand that.
Finished for the day, Emma reached for her handbag and set it on her desk. And that was when the footsteps sounded outside her office. Emma looked up to see Mac, Dylan, Cal and Fletcher Hart stride into her office. Her heart began to pound. Something had to be up for all four of Joe’s brothers to show up. Especially since Dylan—a sportscaster for a TV station in Chicago—was rarely in Holly Springs these days. The only sibling missing, in fact, besides Joe, was Janey Hart, the only girl in the bunch. “Did we have an appointment?” she asked Joe’s four brothers dryly. “Because I sure don’t remember one.”
Cal grinned with the assurance of the orthopedic surgeon and sports-medicine specialist that he was. “We figured you would say that,” he drawled.
Fletch came around behind her. His hand on the back of her swivel chair, he eased her away from
her desk. “What are you doing?” Emma asked. Fletch was the town veterinarian, and known for his easygoing, good-guy demeanor, but right now his eyes had a distinctly mischievous glint.
“Helping you out of your chair, of course,” Fletch teased.
Emma struggled against the gentle, persuasive hold Dylan had on her elbow as he helped guide her to her feet. “Why?” She looked into Dylan’s extremely telegenic face.
“So you can go with us, of course.”
Emma stopped right there and refused to budge. “Where?”
Looking as if he had expected her display of recalcitrance all along, Mac came up on the other side of her and took her other elbow gently in his hand. “Oh, we think that would be best left as a surprise,” he murmured in her ear.
Emma scowled, beginning to be a little peeved. It was one thing to be led around by Joe—he was her husband, after all. But by all the men in the Hart clan was something else indeed!
“Suppose I don’t want to go?” she asked sweetly, wondering if Joe was involved in this, too. Or was he going to be surprised—perhaps unhappily so—just as she was by his siblings’ unexpected appearance.
The brothers exchanged looks, communicating silently. “Then we’ll convince you otherwise,” Cal said eventually.
“And if I can’t be convinced? Then what?” Emma demanded, beginning to understand what Janey meant when she sometimes complained about being overwhelmed by all the “testosterone” in her big, lively family.
In response, Cal, Dylan, Mac and Fletch just grinned.
Emma sighed, beginning to get the picture. “I’m going whether I like it or not, aren’t I?” she asked.
They nodded in unison. “We knew you’d catch on quick,” Mac said.
“LISTEN, GUYS, I KNOW YOU probably mean well,” Emma said as Fletch’s SUV pulled up in front of the Storm practice facility. She was beginning to get butterflies in her tummy. A lot of butterflies. “But I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“You’re telling us you don’t want to see Joe?”
Of course she did. Even as hurt and angry as she had been, she had missed him terribly the last two days. But that didn’t mean she wanted an audience when she and her estranged husband did meet up with each other again.
“I’m saying Joe may not want a cheering section for this,” Emma specified as she hopped down from the back seat.
“Actually, he does,” Mac told her soberly.
And sure enough, when the other four Hart brothers escorted Emma inside, Joe was waiting for them in the locker room.
The first thing Emma noticed was that Joe had shaved off the play-off-style beard he had been sporting since they had come back into each other’s lives. What did that mean? That they were finished? That their love affair-cum-marriage of convenience was over? And Joe wanted witnesses to that effect? And why was he dressed in workout shorts and T-shirt?
Before she had a chance to ask, her father and mother walked in, along with Coach Thad Lantz and sports attorney Ross Dempsey.
“What’s this all about?” Emma asked, looking straight at Joe.
Expression implacable, he looked at everyone in the room as he answered, “You’ll all see soon enough. Please. Get comfortable.” He switched on the television. Dylan fiddled with what looked to Emma like some high-tech recording equipment. Suddenly, the screen was filled with a picture of the weight room on the other side of the building. Joe hustled off as Dylan pushed the record button. Silence fell. A minute later, Joe appeared in the weight room. They could hear every sound in the room as he began using one of the weight machines. He’d done about ten reps when Tiffany Lamour appeared on the screen. Dressed as beautifully as always, in a form-fitting red sheath and high heels, she looked like a tomcat on the prowl. “Peculiar place for us to meet,” she drawled.
“Where would you have preferred?” Joe shot back acerbically as he moved on to the next machine. “My bedroom?”
If Tiffany was surprised by Joe’s hostility, Emma noted, she did not show it. “I notice you didn’t say our bedroom,” Tiffany pointed out with a smug smile.
Joe turned and looked at Tiffany. He made little effort to hide his anger. “That’s because Emma left me.”
“Really.” Tiffany looked even less surprised.
Grimacing, Joe worked the muscles in his calves and thighs. “She wasn’t very understanding about the leopard-print thong with your monogrammed initials.” He paused to wipe his face with the end of a hand towel. “Pretty clever of you, putting it on the chair, along with the rest of my dirty laundry, where you knew she’d find it.”
Tiffany laughed victoriously. “I thought so.” Eyes fastened on Joe’s face, she edged nearer. “I’m surprised, though, that she didn’t trust you.”
“Well, she didn’t,” Joe said gruffly as he got up abruptly and moved on to the next workout machine. “And now we’ve split up, thanks to you. The irony of it being, of course—” Joe huffed as he sat down on the bench seat “—that you and I didn’t do anything.”
Tiffany shrugged as she continued to follow him around, like a cat in heat. “Not for lack of trying on my part. As I recall—” she curved her crimson lips “—I gave you several opportunities to seduce me.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” Joe said even more impatiently.
“Your mistake,” Tiffany said coldly.
Joe paused, studying her. “So this was payback? Is that it?”
Tiffany shrugged and sat down opposite Joe, crossing her legs at the knee and exposing a lot of thigh. “Call it whatever you like.”
Joe began another set of reps. “I call it blackmail and extortion—albeit of the sexual variety.” He let the hand-holds of the machine go abruptly and leaned back, against the shoulder and neck rest.
“Come on, Joe.” Tiffany stood and sauntered closer. When Joe merely looked at her, she leaned over him and rubbed her hands across his chest in a way that made Emma want to go tear her hair out.
“You’re not going to be the first to humor me in exchange for some good publicity. And you certainly won’t be the last,” Tiffany cooed as she slipped her hand beneath his shirt. “All you have to do is take me to bed and I’ll be good to you from here on out.”
Abruptly looking as if he couldn’t stand Tiffany touching him any more than Emma could, Joe gripped Tiffany by the arms and set her away from him.
It was his turn to look smug and in control. “Actually, Tiff,” Joe drawled, as contemptuously as the blackmailing reporter deserved, “I’d be willing to bet I am the last man you’ll ever do this to.”
Tiffany narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “The hell you say.”
He pointed at the ceiling in the room in the direction of the discretely positioned recording equipment. “Smile. You’re on camera.”
THE SCREECH OF FURY TIFFANY let out was both vicious and short-lived as Joe took her by the elbow and propelled her out of the room. “Let’s go meet our audience,” the group in the room heard him say as the two moved off camera. “I think you’ll find this fun and informative.”
A minute later, he and Tiffany walked into the locker room. She glared at the group assembled there. Her fear turned to anger, then contempt. “I’ll sue,” she threatened.
“I wouldn’t advise it,” Joe’s lawyer, Ross Dempsey, said. “’Cause then we’d have to countersue and this whole nasty mess might become public.”
“And I’d for sure have to arrest you for blackmail and extortion,” Mac Hart said.
Joe looked around. He had no compunction about piling it on. “A lot of witnesses in this room, Tiffany. Not to mention the lovely videotape we just got of your confession.”
She folded her arms in front of her defiantly. “What do you want from me?”
“For starters, an apology to me and Emma and everyone else you’ve hurt.”
Tiffany did a double take. No one in the sports world talked to her like that. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Joe looked at Ross an
d tilted his head indifferently. “Guess you’re going to have to file those papers, then.”
“Wait.” Tiffany held up a well-manicured hand. She looked at Ross Dempsey and spoke as if underlining every word. “This isn’t going to be necessary. I’m sorry. Joe. Emma,” Tiffany said politely and insincerely. Her end of the deal held up—in her mind, anyway—Tiffany turned to Dylan, who was standing at the recording equipment. “Now I’d like the tape,” Tiffany said, holding out her hand.
Joe and Dylan exchanged looks. “I don’t think so,” Joe said.
“That tape is our insurance,” Saul Donovan agreed, stepping forward to take the floor. “Because I’m putting you on notice right now, Ms. Lamour. If you ever do anything like this again to any of my players or any other athletes, your shenanigans will become known, not just to the NHL, but to the entire viewing public.”
Emma knew her father meant it. And more, he had the clout—as one of the team owners—to pull such a threat off.
“You’re all nuts,” Tiffany muttered beneath her breath. She glared at them, then stormed out of the room.
Silence fell in her wake.
Wow, Emma thought. Joe had certainly taken care of that problem.
“That all you needed from us?” Fletcher Hart asked.
Joe nodded. “Thanks for coming, everybody, and serving as witnesses to what happened here today. But now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to my wife alone.”
SILENCE FELL AS EVERYONE streamed out of the locker room. Joe shut the door behind them, then turned back to Emma. He had never looked more handsome, nor more unapproachable. Given the grimly serious expression on his face, she wasn’t sure what was on his mind. But she knew she had to take the lead before he did anything rash where the two of them were concerned that would consign them both to a life of misery. She stepped toward him, hands spread out in front of her. “I’m sorry.”
He slouched against the door and folded his arms in front of him. “I figured you would be,” he said.
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