Bury the Hatchet (5 page)

He winked in that same way now, shoving the stacks of paper aside and placing his entire focus on me. “I’m not getting worked up because, for the first time since you were six months old and your mother informed me she was going to enter you in a baby pageant whether I liked it or not, I’m not worried about the damage she’s going to do to you. You’re going to get out from under her thumb, and you’ll be all the better for it.”

“Out from under Mama’s thumb?” I repeated after him, dumbfounded. It was Lance who had always ruled every aspect of my life as far as I could figure it, dictating everything to Mama from my diet to my bedtime, and even the electives I should sign up for in school. He had determined that I should be in Delta Delta Delta. He’d been the one to decide that I should major in communications at the University of Oklahoma. He’d hired and fired the various designers, makeup artists, and coaches I’d had over the years. It had always been Lance, not Mama, making those decisions for my life. She’d just been the one to enforce my compliance.

Daddy smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Tallie, I tried to fire Lance at least a dozen times over the years, but your mother wouldn’t have it. He’s been the one deciding how you needed to do things, but it was your mother who insisted he be in your life at all. She’s ultimately the one behind it, and I couldn’t be happier to have you finally coming to a point where the two of them can’t dictate your life.”

My life
.

But if I went along with the plan and married Hunter, just as I’d been told to do, it wasn’t really my life, was it? I’d just be going along with what they told me to do, and maybe instead of Mama and Lance dictating everything now, it would be Hunter taking on that role. Or maybe they would find a way to wheedle their way in to keep going as they had been.

It wasn’t my life. Or at the very least, it wasn’t the life I wanted. Now I needed to figure out what to do about it.

EVEN AFTER SHOWERING
and changing clothes, I still felt like I was going to melt and drip down the drainage system on the Tulsa streets. I didn’t know how anyone could live in heat like this, and I wasn’t even remotely thrilled about the fact that I was going to have to figure it out, and soon. After my fuckup, I’d thought that I was only going to be here for a week or maybe two right now, long enough to work out a plan with the team for dealing with the media, and then I would go home for the rest of my off-season. That was all I had planned for when I’d packed for this trip. I should have been able to head back to Prince George for a month or so to finish up my summer training regimen before settling in here in preparation for the new season, but I was quickly learning that life didn’t always turn out the way I’d planned or expected. I wasn’t supposed to have to stick around in this heat—not with the way I’d mapped everything out in my head—but here I was.

Not only that, but I couldn’t exactly run to Canada if I was getting married this weekend and making a show of being unable to keep my hands off Tallulah. I was going to have to suffer through this heat—both the literal and the figurative versions of it—while I trained for the new season. That meant I’d have to find a good gym and a personal trainer here, and I’d have to cancel with my usual guy back home.

And then there was the small matter of filling in my parents about all of this. I hadn’t even picked up the phone yet because of all the running around I’d been doing since leaving the Thunderbirds offices, but I could already hear the dismay in Mom’s tone.
What do you mean, you’re getting married? Who is she? What’s her family like? What kind of name is Tallulah? What about Carrie?
There wasn’t a chance in hell Mom would leave Carrie out of it. And then there was the fact that I would have to break it to Carrie, too, which was no small matter.

She and I had been in an on-and-off relationship for the last decade or more. We had spent a lot more time in the
off
phase than in the
on
phase, especially in the last five years or so. Our relationship was complicated, made more so because of issues between her sister, my brother, and our niece. More than anything, Carrie was the girl I knew I could hook up with when I went home if I needed a release for some pent-up frustration. We’d been friends with benefits since just after high school, a relationship that had worked well for both of us. She had a career of her own. She’d never wanted to leave home, and I’d had to for my career. And now she had Kaylee to think about, too.

The only problem was that our mothers didn’t want to accept it. They’d been trying to get the two of us together since we were about seven years old. I was pretty sure Mom thought I was going to come home after I washed out of the NHL and marry Carrie, maybe make some babies with her. Carrie and I had never wanted that, but it didn’t stop Mom and Mrs. Schuster from trying to make it happen.

Anyway, talking to either Mom or Carrie would have to wait until tomorrow. Whether I wanted plans or not, I had them for tonight.

After renting a car, buying a fucking ring that would meet Mr. Roth’s requirements, and getting cleaned up at the hotel, I didn’t have a lot of time left before the Roths would expect me to pick up Tallulah for dinner. Besides, I hadn’t sorted out what I wanted to tell anyone, and it might not be a bad idea to work that out with my bride-to-be in advance of breaking the news to everyone at home.

So instead of picking up my phone, I put some gel in my hair to tame it somewhat, pulled on a pair of slacks and the only shirt and tie I’d brought with me for this supposedly brief visit, and headed out to pick her up.

I followed the directions dictated by my GPS and drove into a gated community. It was full of big, old houses, the sort that made me think they must be part of a historical district. As Mr. Roth’s secretary had informed me, there was another gate at the driveway to the house. I put my car in park and rolled down the window to identify myself on the speaker. A beep sounded and the gate opened.

By the time I pulled up to the circular drive in front of the main entry, Tallulah was halfway down the steps, hurrying toward me. She had on a turquoise sundress made out of some fluttering material that whipped around her legs in the wind. She held down her skirt with one hand, a designer bag in the other. I put the car in park and unfastened my seat belt, but she yanked the door open before I could get out to assist her.

“Let’s go before Mama and Lance realize I’m already gone,” she said, slamming the car door behind her.

I ground my jaw at the mention of that asshole’s name, but I refastened my belt and put the car in gear. I’d thought we agreed he would take no part in our marriage? But then again, that had only been decided upon earlier today, and she would have to have time to tell him to butt out. Since I hadn’t informed my parents about any of this yet, I supposed I’d better bite my tongue for now. Sure enough, I glanced in my rearview mirror as I drove toward the main street to find Lance waving wild arms in the air and shouting after us, Tallulah’s mother hot on his heels with a scowl that seemed permanently affixed to her face.

“I take it they aren’t happy you won’t be taking part in wedding planning tonight,” I murmured.

She tucked her bag between her thigh and the center console and sighed. “Among other things.”

I chuckled at the resignation in her tone. “Still not warming up to me, huh?”

“You could say that.”

My guess was that I could say a lot more without hitting too far from the mark. The next year of my life was going to be quite the ordeal, and I got the sense that Mrs. Roth would only be the tip of the iceberg as far as daily frustrations were concerned.

The GPS instructed me to turn left at the next light, so I moved into the turn lane and dug the jewelry box out of my pocket. The light was red so I stopped the car and handed the box to Tallulah. “Here. You might as well put that on now so it’ll be noticed by anyone who matters.”

She took the box, her perfectly manicured fingers curling around the velvet-wrapped casing, but she neither opened it nor took the ring out. She just held it out in front of her, staring down at it as if it were alive.

“It’s not going to bite you,” I said.

“I know.” She didn’t sound like she believed what she was saying. “It’s just…”

Several seconds passed in silence. The light turned green, and I pulled out into the intersection. “It’s just what?” I finally asked, unable to bear the echoing emptiness between us. We didn’t know each other at all yet, and the less we spoke, the greater the chasm between us grew.

She still didn’t answer me. She stared out the window on her side of the car, rotating the jewelry box between her fingers. It was only when we pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant that she turned to me and said, “It’s nothing.” Her eyes had taken on a vacant expression, lifeless amber orbs in a too-perfect face. She opened the box, took out the ring, and placed it on her finger without any reaction whatsoever to the ring itself. It was a big fucking ring, and one that deserved some sort of reaction. She seemed oblivious to it, though, lost in whatever thoughts were running through her head.

It damn well wasn’t
nothing
, but hell if I knew what it was. I shut off the ignition and took the box from her, reaching across her body to place it in the glove box. “This has to be the worst proposal known to man,” I said, trying to laugh it off and hoping she would do the same. We were going to have to loosen up.

“We’ll have to come up with something better to tell people,” she said. The hint of a smile crept to her lips. “Maybe we can talk about that over dinner. Come up with something outrageous. They’re bound to ask, and we need to get our stories straight.”

It seemed as good as anywhere to start.

I unfolded myself out of the car and made my way around to help her out. As we crossed the parking lot, I took great care in being sure I walked with my hand on the small of her back, drawing her close enough to me that the scent of her perfume wafted up and tickled my nostrils, making me want to tug her even closer. Sure enough, just as everyone had made clear would happen, eyes followed our every move.

The hostess greeted us at the door and took us straight to a semi-secluded area near the back of the restaurant—far enough away from other diners that we wouldn’t be overheard but close enough that they would definitely be able to see everything that went on between us. No doubt Mr. Roth’s secretary had requested this spot specifically. The table was raised up on a dais of sorts and had been set for two, with elegant china, delicate champagne glasses, fresh flowers, and candles. Mirrors lined the wall behind the bench, reflecting candlelight. A bottle of expensive bubbly was waiting for us in a bucket of ice. I helped Tallulah into her seat and slid in beside her, taking care to move closer than was necessary.

She flinched slightly when my thigh brushed hers.

“Too close?” I whispered in her ear. My lips hovered close enough that her body heat reached them.

Her eyes flickered up to meet mine, her cheeks slightly flushed. She shook her head.

“Congratulations to you both on your engagement,” the hostess said. She didn’t hand us any menus, though, which threw me for a loop. “The chef will be out momentarily to discuss your selections for this evening. Should I open that now, or would you like to wait?” she asked, pointing to the champagne.

Personal attention from the chef was not something I’d experienced very often in my life, at least not counting the chef hired by the teams I’d played for who cooked for us on the road and made sure the younger guys were eating solid meals when we were at home instead of constantly ordering pizza and eating fast food burgers. I made a lot of money, and people tended to suck up to me because of that, but this was an entirely different level of sucking up. Maybe Tallulah really was as big of a deal around here as they wanted me to believe.

“We’ll wait,” I said. It was only after the hostess nodded and backed away that I realized I should have asked if Tallulah was on board with that. “Do you mind?”