and was probably only going to be unhappier still once he’d told her the whole of it. Which meant—and the fact that he couldn’t decide if this was good or bad was worrying—that the memory of her warm shoulders under his arm was likely to be the closest he got to her, ever.
In her place he’d tell himself to go to the devil too and run straight into the arms of the nearest baseball team that would have her. He didn’t doubt that somebody would give her a job. She was obviously smart and she knew the game backward. Not many people had her sort of pedigree. It was unlikely to be the sort of job she had wanted at the Saints though. There were no female CEOs in MLB. Not yet. And without the added push of being the owner’s daughter, she’d have to fight like hell to ever end up in that position somewhere else. Unless she went to the minors.
He couldn’t see it.
But right now neither could he see how to win her over to his side. She was too mad to succumb to charm and he couldn’t do the thing that would make her not mad and undo the deal. Even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t.
He tapped one finger on the steering wheel while he thought about it. Mal or Lucas would have ideas, but he’d hustled her out of there without giving them a chance to even speak to her for long, and he could hardly call and strategize with them with Maggie riding shotgun. So he’d just have to wing it.
* * *
As Alex slowed and turned to ease the car into the garage at Maggie’s building, she shook herself from her reverie, blinking a little as she realized they’d arrived. She hadn’t even registered the transition from Brooklyn to Manhattan. She wouldn’t have been able to say which way they’d come through the city to SoHo. Alex hadn’t asked which way was fastest.
Figured.
Men like him didn’t ask for directions. They just plunged ahead, sure of themselves. She knew the type well. Her father was one. And half the players on the team.
He parked in one of the guest spots, switched off the ignition, then climbed out and came round and opened the door for her.
Manners.
It was one small point in his favor. She managed to say “thank you” as she got out of the Jeep. Nerves coiled, fierce and tight, in her stomach, now that they’d arrived. She’d managed to wrestle them into submission during the drive over but now they had broken free again.
She led the way to the elevator, punched in her code, and stepped off when they arrived at her floor, all without speaking to him again. She didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure she wouldn’t just be a wimp and try to get rid of him before he told her whatever it was he was going to say.
Maybe she should’ve tried to get it out of her dad instead, but the fact that Tom hadn’t told her—when they’d always talked about everything—meant that it was bad. She was furious with him for keeping her in the dark but forcing the issue might just lead to the sort of blowup they’d never had. The sort of blowup that might fracture their relationship. She couldn’t face that. Tom was her rock. The constant thing in her world. Ever since her mom had died, he’d been there when she needed him, even when it meant jumping on a plane from half a country away. He’d made sure that she was safe and loved and given her a damn good life.
And now he was lying to her.
That hurt most of all.
She laid her keys in their dish on the entry table in the hall and turned to Alex as she started to unbutton her coat. He wasn’t wearing one. Come to think of it, he hadn’t worn one on the podium either.
Maybe he was wearing long underwear.
Or maybe the fires of hell kept him toasty warm in even the worst weather.
“Are you hungry?” She wasn’t. She felt like she might barf if she tried to eat, but she’d promised to feed him and she wasn’t going to renege on her promise. Unlike some people.
“Sure. You said something about takeout?”
The takeout menu drawer was well
In her place he’d tell himself to go to the devil too and run straight into the arms of the nearest baseball team that would have her. He didn’t doubt that somebody would give her a job. She was obviously smart and she knew the game backward. Not many people had her sort of pedigree. It was unlikely to be the sort of job she had wanted at the Saints though. There were no female CEOs in MLB. Not yet. And without the added push of being the owner’s daughter, she’d have to fight like hell to ever end up in that position somewhere else. Unless she went to the minors.
He couldn’t see it.
But right now neither could he see how to win her over to his side. She was too mad to succumb to charm and he couldn’t do the thing that would make her not mad and undo the deal. Even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t.
He tapped one finger on the steering wheel while he thought about it. Mal or Lucas would have ideas, but he’d hustled her out of there without giving them a chance to even speak to her for long, and he could hardly call and strategize with them with Maggie riding shotgun. So he’d just have to wing it.
* * *
As Alex slowed and turned to ease the car into the garage at Maggie’s building, she shook herself from her reverie, blinking a little as she realized they’d arrived. She hadn’t even registered the transition from Brooklyn to Manhattan. She wouldn’t have been able to say which way they’d come through the city to SoHo. Alex hadn’t asked which way was fastest.
Figured.
Men like him didn’t ask for directions. They just plunged ahead, sure of themselves. She knew the type well. Her father was one. And half the players on the team.
He parked in one of the guest spots, switched off the ignition, then climbed out and came round and opened the door for her.
Manners.
It was one small point in his favor. She managed to say “thank you” as she got out of the Jeep. Nerves coiled, fierce and tight, in her stomach, now that they’d arrived. She’d managed to wrestle them into submission during the drive over but now they had broken free again.
She led the way to the elevator, punched in her code, and stepped off when they arrived at her floor, all without speaking to him again. She didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure she wouldn’t just be a wimp and try to get rid of him before he told her whatever it was he was going to say.
Maybe she should’ve tried to get it out of her dad instead, but the fact that Tom hadn’t told her—when they’d always talked about everything—meant that it was bad. She was furious with him for keeping her in the dark but forcing the issue might just lead to the sort of blowup they’d never had. The sort of blowup that might fracture their relationship. She couldn’t face that. Tom was her rock. The constant thing in her world. Ever since her mom had died, he’d been there when she needed him, even when it meant jumping on a plane from half a country away. He’d made sure that she was safe and loved and given her a damn good life.
And now he was lying to her.
That hurt most of all.
She laid her keys in their dish on the entry table in the hall and turned to Alex as she started to unbutton her coat. He wasn’t wearing one. Come to think of it, he hadn’t worn one on the podium either.
Maybe he was wearing long underwear.
Or maybe the fires of hell kept him toasty warm in even the worst weather.
“Are you hungry?” She wasn’t. She felt like she might barf if she tried to eat, but she’d promised to feed him and she wasn’t going to renege on her promise. Unlike some people.
“Sure. You said something about takeout?”
The takeout menu drawer was well
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