“I’ll take that as a compliment, and you can take this.”
Zach lunged for the bowl just as Kelsie attempted to heave it at Mark. They wrestled for it, Zach desperate to stop her from doing something so stupid as dumping it on Mark’s head. She fought with him, finally stomping on Zach’s other foot. He tried to hang on, but she jerked it out of his caramel-coated fingers with amazing strength.
Kelsie aimed the bowl at Mark’s head as Zach made a last-ditch grasp for it. Veronica hurried to Mark’s side at the same moment the bowl hurtled toward Mark. The bowl hit its mark—literally—and Veronica got caught in the crossfire. Warm, sticky caramel sauce coated Mark’s and Veronica’s hair and slid down their faces, necks, and torsos as slowly as a slug moves across a sidewalk. Little bits of caramel stuck to Veronica’s eyelashes and almost glued her eyes shut.
“Oh my God.” Bruiser’s words echoed Zach’s sentiments exactly. Then the running back started laughing.
Mark didn’t find any of it funny. “You fucking bitch.” He looked ready to kill, sputtering and cursing and most likely seeing red along with gold from the caramel. Groping for another weapon, Mark grabbed a bowl of strawberry sauce and flung it. Zach and Kelsie ducked. The bowl flew between them, careening off Zach’s shoulder and splattering Tyler Harris, who’d walked up behind them, squarely in the face. Red strawberries and sticky sauce coated him like a very pissed-off sundae. Zach wiped a glob off his own ear, part of the overspray. Kelsie sported a blob of strawberry on the tip of her nose.
Harris pushed past them. His blue eyes burned like a pilot light through a red strawberry haze. “You bastard.” He shoved his hands in a bowl of liver paté, scooped up a ball, and aimed at Mark. Mark dove for cover behind the kitchen island, and the paté ball hit HughJack squarely on his forehead as the coach entered the kitchen. Great aim. Deadly aim.
This was not good. Not good at all. HughJack’s face turned redder than it did during a twenty-clipboard game.
As more guests crowded into the kitchen, the rookie running back shouted out a war whoop, grabbing another bowl.
The chef started screaming, “Not the caviar! Please, not the caviar!” The man sounded ready to cry.
A second later, the caviar took flight, spraying across several guests and teammates, leaving globby messes of fish eggs clinging to elegant clothing.
Bruiser and LeDaniel took cover behind the island and peppered the growing crowd with olives and little hard pieces of bread. Shrimp was jettisoned from an undisclosed location. Bow-tie pasta flew across the room in a line drive, headed for the team owner’s crotch.
It all happened so fast. Within a minute, participating teammates and guests had laid waste to the entire kitchen and the remainder of the food. Kelsie and Zach huddled in a corner out of the line of fire, at least most of it. Zach’s stomach dive-bombed to the bottom of his dress shoes and stayed there. They were both so screwed. So very, very screwed.
HughJack wiped paté off his lips and bellowed above the crowd. “STOP IT! NOW! What the fuck is going on here?”
One last piece of chicken smacked HughJack in the face before the mob quieted. Players glanced at each other and shuffled their feet. Guests picked bits of food from their hair. Zach and Kelsie rose from their safe place. Kelsie clutched Zach’s hand so hard his circulation was almost cut off. Several of the waitstaff swung into action and handed out towels.
Spitting out caramel and looking like a melted Snickers bar, Veronica turned on Zach. “Did you start this?” A piece of shrimp was stuck to the caramel on her right cheek.
For a minute, Zach blinked, then realized Veronica thought he’d flung the first bowl, not Kelsie. He jumped on her assumption, anxious to save Kelsie’s reputation and her business, even as he knew he might very well be sinking his own career in the process. “I was giving that ass there what he deserved.”
“What were you thinking?” Veronica’s sticky claws were out, as if she meant to draw blood.
Zach shook his head. “Even a layer of caramel can’t make you sweet.” Big mistake, but it came out of his mouth without him thinking. Somewhere nearby, he heard Bruiser laugh and Tomcat snort.
“This—this is unacceptable.” Veronica included them all in her scathing look. Perhaps it’d be a multiple beheading.
“Wait a minute. I threw that first bowl.” Kelsie stepped forward, madder than he’d ever seen her. She turned on Zach. “I told you. I can fight my own battles.” She swung back toward Veronica. “This jerk insulted Zach.”
Mark, wiping his face with a wet rag, shook his head. “I’m done with you, bitch.” He pointed at Kelsie.
“Don’t you call Kelsie a bitch.” Zach lost it. To hell with manners. He pulled back his arm, hand fisted, ready to lay the guy out on the floor. Fingers like a steel vise and smelling of strawberries closed around his biceps and pinned his arms behind his back.
Harris growled in his ear. “Don’t make this worse for Kelsie.”
Mark shook his head and little drops of caramel flew everywhere. “I’m fucking out of here.” He shot a glance at Zach. “You’re an idiot, just like you always were. Enjoy her while it lasts.” He stomped away, squishing with every step.
More guests had poured into the kitchen area. The caterer, recovering from shock, frantically yelled instructions to her staff to clean up the mess in a futile attempt to salvage the evening.
HughJack shouted at Harris. “Get him out of here for now.” He looked pointedly at Zach. “We’ll talk first thing Monday morning. You sure as hell better hope this doesn’t make the papers or the internet tomorrow.”
Tyler and Derek grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the crazy-assed caramel woman, while her father and brothers rushed to comfort her.
“It’s probably trending by now,” Derek muttered as they shoved Zach toward the door and away from the scene of the crime and out of Veronica’s sticky clutches. Dumbfounded with shock, Zach staggered across the room.
Kelsie stood away from the group of people, her knuckles in her mouth, and said nothing.
While his future imploded around him, Zach blindly allowed Harris to usher him out of the room.
~ ~ ~ ~
A food fight had obliterated Kelsie’s world and blown it into millions of tiny, unrecoverable pieces. And she, Kelsie Murphy of the impeccable manners, had started the entire thing. She didn’t know whether to sob or laugh hysterically.
Veronica gripped her father’s jacket lapel, leaving a caramel handprint. “Dad, calm down.”
Her father’s face was bright red, and he was sputtering nonsense, he was so angry. Finally, he managed to gain control of the English language again. “Murphy is suspended for disciplinary purposes. Look at all the witnesses. We can’t let him get away with this type of behavior. We had a deal with him.”
Veronica backed up a few steps, her feet squishing across the littered floor. “We’ll talk in the morning.” She turned to the coach. “All of us.”
HughJack nodded his agreement.
Kelsie couldn’t stay quiet any longer. She ignored Mr. Simms and pleaded her case with Veronica and Coach Jackson. She’d already signed her finishing school’s death sentence. Her next words might put her directly in the electric chair, but she couldn’t let Zach take the fall for this.
“I threw the first bowl. Not Zach. He’s taking the blame for me. Zach has come so far. He’s worked hard not only on the field but off. He’s the first one in the building in the morning and the last to leave. He would not jeopardize the most important thing in his life—his team—over something like this. He’s done everything you’ve asked, buried the hatchet with Tyler, worked tirelessly on this gala, studied hard to improve his social skills. How can you punish a man who’s made such an effort, especially for something he didn’t start?” She looked from one to the other, hoping to see a glimmer of understanding and sympathy in their eyes.
Veronica, caramel dripping off her chin, said nothing, nor did the coach.
“Nice
try. But Zach threw that bowl.” Mr. Simms crossed his arms over his chest and refused to budge from his stance.
“No, he didn’t. Zach passed the test. He learned his lessons better than his teacher did.”
“You’ll never convince me,” Mr. Simms said.
“Dad, let’s discuss this in a less public place.” Veronica ushered her father from the room without another word. She glanced over her shoulder at Kelsie and Zach, shrugging, and Kelsie realized she had an ally in the last person she’d expected.
The excitement over, the crowd dissipated, heading back to different parts of the house—or a shower—jabbering and laughing. Their lives hadn’t been destroyed, like Zach’s and Kelsie’s had.
Kelsie swallowed past the giant-sized lump in her throat and went in search of Zach. She found him sitting in the upstairs tower bedroom on the curved window seat staring out the window. He looked as if he’d just been told he’d never win a ring or play another down. As far as she knew, that might well be true. She walked over to him, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors. He didn’t so much as glance her way.
“Zach? Are you okay?”
He stared out the window, proud yet sad. Kelsie sat next to him and took his big hands in hers. They were cold.
“Did your ex leave?” His voice sounded weird. He jerked his hands away from hers.
“Yes, I don’t think he wanted to stick around since he was wearing most of the dessert and the rookies were eyeing him hungrily.” Her attempt at humor was met with silence.
Long, tense silence, except for the muted sounds of the band in another part of the house and occasional voices drifting up from the deck.
Zach looked up, attempted a wry smile. “I don’t think the crowd will forget this gala.”
“There is that.” She cleared her throat. “Zach, I didn’t invite Mark here. You have to believe me.”
“I do believe you, except for one thing.” He looked up at her with the saddest eyes. “Why did you come to Seattle, Kel?”
“I had a job offer, and it fell through.”
He snorted as if he wasn’t buying it. “You didn’t think I could help your career?”
“No, running into you was purely an accident.”
“But once you did, you thought once a sucker, always a sucker?” He stared out the window, his strong profile contorted with grief.
“No. Nothing like that. I thought we might have the start of something good. Something lasting. Only you would never open up to me. Never forgive me. Never trust me. You don’t trust me now.”
“About why Gary is buried here?”
“Among other things. That’s only a symptom of a larger problem.”
Zach swallowed and cleared his throat. “I buried Gary’s ashes here because he’d always dreamed of owning a Victorian mansion. His forever home. So, I finally bought him one.” He stared out the window and a lone tear ran down his face.
“This is Gary’s house?” Kelsie’s heart stalled, then exploded in her chest in a rapid series of frantic drumbeats. Zach never cried. Never.
He nodded, not meeting her gaze.
She fought for the right words, the words to make everything okay. Only for once, she couldn’t come up with anything.
“I never let anyone in, not even my brother, not since high school, but I was letting you in again, Kelsie. Learning to trust you. Believing in you.” Zach met her gaze. Lines of deep sorrow cut trenches into his rugged face.
“Zach, please, it’s all a lie.”
“It’s not just that. You followed me everywhere tonight, never once let me out of your sight. You didn’t trust me not to screw this up, as if I didn’t realize how important this was to you.”
“I just wanted to be there for you. To support you.”
“Support me! Hell, you wanted to control my every move, my every word. You didn’t trust me to do the right thing. For you. For me. For us.”
Kelsie gasped. He made her sound like her mother. Oh, God, she was nothing like her mother, was she?
“You had to make sure this poor Texas boy didn’t soil your perfect gala and ruin your ridiculous business.”
She grabbed hold of his statement and attacked. “You think my business is ridiculous?”
“Well, yeah? Who does it help except you? Does it give a homeless man a coat for cold winter nights? Does it provide a warm meal for a disabled veteran on the streets? Does it cure a child of cancer?”
“No, but it—”
“It what? Perpetuates a bunch of phony shit that doesn’t show a damn thing about the person underneath.”
She couldn’t argue with that logic. “Manners are part of civilized culture. Without them we’d be animals.”
“Like tonight.” His wry chuckle didn’t reach his eyes. “What about compassion? Caring? Giving?”
Kelsie couldn’t speak. Her mouth opened but nothing came out.
“You used me. Just like you used me in high school, just like you used the team, and most of the people in your life, because nothing gets in the way of what Kelsie wants. Nothing. Not even a man who was fool enough to believe he loved her.”
“You loved me?” She grasped the words and held them to her heart, searching for the glue to put this mess back together.
“I loved you in high school, worshipped you, carried an Olympic–sized torch for you. Then I covered up the pain with hate and anger. I got over you once. I’ll get over you again.”
“But—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “There’s nothing more to discuss.”
“Are you telling me it’s over?” She locked her knees so she wouldn’t collapse to the floor in a heap of blubbering female regret.
“It never even started. Not really. Allowing you back into my life was a stupid idea from the beginning.”
She turned away from him and started throwing clothes onto the bed from the closet with shaking hands. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks and blurred her vision.
“You can stay here until we play our last game. I’ll sleep elsewhere.” Zach’s harsh voice softened. “This is for the best, Kelsie. It would never work between us. We’re too different, and our history is too painful.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” She hiccupped.
“It’s best we end it now before one of us gets their heart broken.” He stood there for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.
“It’s too late for that.”
“I know.” Zach walked from the room. She started to run after him, stumbled, and fell against the bed. She sank to her knees on the floor and sobbed into the soft fabric of the down comforter.
Her heart cracked apart and left a gaping hole no one could fill but Zach.
Chapter 24—Forward Progress
Zach stood near the window, the dreary day outside highlighting his obvious misery. In one corner sat Mr. Simms, arms crossed over his chest, as he glared at Zach. Veronica sighed and leaned forward in her chair, while HughJack paced the floor.
They were going to suspend him, possibly for the rest of the season, or cut him, and cut their losses. The Zach Experiment would be considered a major disaster. He’d torn the team in two with his blatant dislike of their popular quarterback—the man who’d legitimized the Seattle Steelheads as a contender.
Zach stared at the practice field and Lake Washington beyond. So not the way he’d planned to finish his NFL career. And definitely not the way he’d planned to end it with Kelsie. Out with a fizzle, no fireworks, no last-ditch effort to save his career or their newfound relationship. They’d both just sputter out like a wick buried in candle wax until all light was extinguished.
Gone was his hope for a ring, his lifelong dream. And gone was the other lifelong dream—Kelsie. Somehow a ring paled in comparison to losing Kelsie. He’d never thought they’d click like they did, in bed and actually also out of bed. In fact, for her he’d dress in some stuffy suit for a night on the town just to see her in a sexy evening gown o
r bring home a bouquet of roses just to watch her face light up.
She wouldn’t align herself with the man who’d been labeled a major fuck-up by his NFL team—probably his last team. Which explained why she’d called in the cavalry—her ex. Yet even as he thought the words, he didn’t believe them. She’d been truthful with him at last, and he believed what she’d told him.
The door slammed open. Zach yanked himself out of his pity party and looked up just as Tyler Harris bullied his way into the inner sanctum of the owner’s office. He looked madder than a swarm of yellowjackets having their hive doused with water.
“Harris, get out. I’ll deal with you later.” HughJack jabbed a finger toward the door. Tyler ignored him and stomped into the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Like hell, I will. Zach didn’t throw the bowl. Kelsie did. I saw the whole damn fucking thing.”
Mr. Simms rose to his feet. “You’re covering for him. You jocks stick together.”
“Really? You think I’d defend him if it wasn’t the truth? We’ve barely said a civil word to each other all season.”
Mr. Simms looked at his daughter. “Is what he says true?”
“I—I don’t know.”
Tyler rounded on Veronica and Simms. “You say you want what’s best for the team, so prove it.”
All eyes in the room turned to Veronica and Simms. Silence reigned, except for Harris’s heavy breathing. The guy must have run to get here.
Mr. Simms refused to look at Zach, or anyone else for that matter. Her father crossed the room to the small bar and poured a glass of ginger ale.
“Dad, I think Tyler’s right. It was hard to see. I thought I saw Zach throw the first bowl, but it might’ve been Kelsie. They were fighting over it.”
Harris waited, hands on hips, chest heaving, displaying a level of patience Zach would never master. But then his ability to stay in the pocket and wait for plays to develop and still not get sacked was legendary. A skill he sorely needed this year considering their offensive line.
Three months ago, Zach would’ve preferred suspension to allowing Harris to defend him. He’d come a long way. Now he stood back and gratefully let the quarterback present his case, knowing for once they were all on the same page.
Offsides: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 3) Page 25
