The Mighty Quinns: Thom (2 page)

She found Thom Quinn where she’d left him in the conference room. She glanced over her shoulder as she entered. “Did your agent leave?”

Quinn shook his head. “No. He had to take a call.”

Malin pulled out a chair at the end of the table and grabbed a phone, punching in the number of her assistant. “Leah, I’m in the conference room. Can you find Jason and have him come in here? He’s probably in the mail room, working on the convention mailing.”

She hung up the phone and met Thom Quinn’s gaze, holding it for a moment longer than seemed proper under the circumstances. Malin swallowed hard. What were the circumstances? She wasn’t his boss. She didn’t have any power over him, at least none that didn’t come directly from her father. What if he refused to do as she said? In one quick stroke, she’d lose the last of her credibility with her father and any shot at a management job with the team.

“So, they sent you to give me more bad news?”

“Bad news?”

“Yeah, that they’ve decided to trade me to the worst team in the league?”

“Yes,” she murmured, her gaze still locked on his. “I—I mean, no.”

He was an incredibly handsome man. That had always been part of his appeal to the female fans. The shaggy dark hair. The scruffy beard. The impossibly blue eyes. Added to that was a collection of imperfections that made him irresistible—the scar on his lip, the slightly crooked nose.

Dragging her eyes from his face, she reached out and straightened her pen sitting beside her notepad.

“Which is it?” he asked. “Trade or no?”

Malin drew a deep breath. “No,” she lied. She was still determined to save him. He’d be much more amenable to her plan if he thought he had a chance to stay. “They’re going to give you another chance.”

He frowned. “Really?”

Malin nodded. “Under some conditions,” she said.

“What would those be?”

“Maybe we ought to wait for your agent.”

“No, please. Give me my punishment. I’m willing to do what I have to do to stay with the team.”

“All right,” Malin said. “There’ll be no more drinking in public. And I’d advise no more drinking at all. You make stupid decisions when you drink.”

He stared at her silently and she paused for a moment, waiting for a comment or a refusal. But when he said nothing, Malin forged on.

“You should also probably take a break from the women, too. I don’t mean to say you can’t date, but consider keeping your private life more...private.” She cleared her throat. “And finally, we’re going to assign you a—a personal assistant.” It sounded so much better than a watcher, she thought to herself. “This person will live with you and help you make the proper choices and—”

“You’re assigning me a babysitter?” he asked.

“Of course not. You’re not a baby. You’re a full-grown man with a lot of decisions to make. Which is why you need a personal assistant.”

He chuckled softly, shaking her head. “All of this because of one photo?”

“If we hadn’t killed that photo, you could have ended up in jail.”

“I knew she was a hooker,” he said. “And that she was underage.”

“What?” Malin asked.

He nodded. “She approached me in the bar. She looked hungry and scared. She had a black eye and a swollen lip. We started to talk and it was obvious she could do with a meal and a decent night’s sleep. So I bought her dinner and rented her a room. The next morning, I stopped by her room and gave her money to go home. She took it, and as far as I know, she’s back in Kansas or Nebraska or wherever she came from. I guess the guy must have snapped a picture when we were in the bar.”

“You didn’t...”

“I do have some limits when it comes to my behavior.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He grinned and shrugged. “I tried, but they wouldn’t listen. Besides, it wouldn’t have mattered. They see me the way they want to see me.”

She studied him silently. Malin had read his bio, the rags-to-riches story—he’d been a juvenile delinquent, virtually orphaned and living on the streets before stumbling into an after-school hockey program.

He’d never had a steady male influence in his life. Instead, he’d been forced to cobble together the rules and expectations of adulthood. Add to that the quick acquisition of wealth and fame and it would mess anyone up. But was she really prepared to untangle that mess? If it meant gaining a whole lot of respect, damn right she was.

“Miss Pedersen?” said a voice from behind her.

Malin turned to see her second cousin, Jason, waiting nervously at the door. His mother had sent him to the Twin Cities when he’d failed to find a job after five years in college. He hadn’t impressed her beyond his ability to overthink nearly every project he’d been given. But Malin needed someone who’d take the job seriously, someone who’d stick to Thom Quinn like glue.

“Jason Pedersen, this is Thom Quinn,” Malin said.

“I—I know who you are,” Jason said. “I met you last spring at the fan convention. You signed my helmet.”

“Mr. Quinn, I’m going to suggest you hire a personal assistant. One who’ll live with you 24/7. I trust you can make a place for him at your home. Of course, the team will provide a stipend for his rent.”

“You want me to live with someone?” Thom asked.

“This is nonnegotiable,” Malin said. “Perhaps we should discuss this with your agent?”

“No,” he said. “It’s fine with me.”

“You’ll also pay his salary,” Malin added.

“I will?”

“Yes. Due to contract restrictions, we can’t force you to hire an assistant. We can encourage you to do it on your own, though. Which I’m now strongly suggesting.” She leaned forward, her hands splayed across the conference table. “Please do it, Mr. Quinn. Trust me, if you want to keep your job, you need to do this.”

Malin waited, knowing that her ability to sway his behavior was key to her plan working. If he fought her, then it was going to be a very difficult summer for them both.

“All right,” he finally said. “I can make room for Jason.”

Jason gasped. “What? Me?”

“You’re going to be Thom Quinn’s new personal assistant,” Malin said.

Jason’s eyes went wide. “I’m moving in with Tommy Quinn? I’m moving in with The Beast?”

“We’re not going to be using that nickname anymore,” Malin said. “Call him Mr. Quinn for now.”

“You can call me Thom,” he said, nodding at Jason.

At that moment, Thom’s agent returned to the room, his phone still held up to his ear. “What’s happening?”

“I’ve just hired a personal assistant,” Thom said in a bright tone. “This is Jason. He’s going to help me get my shit together.”

Jack glanced back and forth between his client and Jason. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” Thom said. “He’s going to be living with me. I think it will work out just fine. Jeff and Jake both have assistants, and they say it’s great. Maybe he can also do my laundry? And clean the fridge? It will be nice to have a workout partner.” He stood, then held out his hand to Malin. “If we’re finished here, I’ll meet Jason at my place. You can give him the address and send him over with his stuff.”

The moment their hands touched, Malin felt a current race through her body. Thom’s hands were strong, his fingers long and slender. He was known for his great hands, but she’d assumed that referred to his stick handling abilities. She stared down, her mind suddenly occupied with thoughts of what his hands might do to her body. Great hands indeed. A shiver raced through her.

“What about you?” he murmured. “How will you know that I’m complying with your wishes?”

“I’ll be in daily contact with Jason, and he’ll keep me up to date on how you’re doing. You’ll be expected to work out with a team trainer and skate every day. We’ll put together a schedule.”

“All right, then,” Thom said. He suddenly let go of her hand, and Malin wondered if she’d ever have the chance to touch him again.

She watched him follow his agent out of the conference room, then flopped down into one of the leather chairs.

She was acting like a puck bunny, getting all flushed and breathless the moment she set eyes on a handsome hockey player. This had never happened to her before. Why was it happening now?

“He is so cool,” Jason said. “The Beast! How can you not like that guy?”

Malin was wondering the exact opposite—how could she
stop
liking him?

* * *

T
HOM
STOOD
IN
FRONT
of the open refrigerator door and examined the contents. Old takeout containers, a few packages of hot dogs, juice, vitamin water and beer. Though he worked hard to maintain a decent diet, it was much easier during the season when meals were provided by the club’s caterer.

“Can you cook?” he called.

“Cook?” Jason wandered into the kitchen area. “Sure. Pizza. Mac and cheese. Man, your place is so cool. What guy wouldn’t love living in an old firehouse? Was it like this when you moved in?”

“No, I renovated it myself.” Thom grabbed a couple of beers, starting to make a grocery list in his head. McCrory and Pedersen had made it clear they wanted him to lay low for the next couple of months, so he wouldn’t be dining at his favorite restaurants. He followed the sound of Jason’s voice to the family room at the rear of the house.

Jason had already found the remote for the television and was flipping through the channels. “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?” Thom asked before handing the other man the beer.

“I’m twenty-two. But I probably shouldn’t drink since I’m on duty.”

Thom grabbed the remote and switched to the local sports report. “We need groceries. You might as well hit the store. While you’re gone, I’m going to take a run.”

Jason shook his head. “I’m not supposed to leave you alone. If you need me to shop, then you have to come with me. If you’re going for a run, I go with you. That’s what Malin told me and I’m not going to screw it up. I’m supposed to stick to you like glue on rice.” He cleared his throat. “Or maybe it was white on rice. Yeah, yeah, that’s it. White on rice. Flies on flypaper.”

“All right. We can send out for a pizza,” Thom muttered, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Why don’t you go grab a bedroom and unpack your stuff?”

“I can do that later. I—I’m just gonna sit here and watch the sports report.”

“I’m not going to sneak out while you’re upstairs.”

“No, no,” Jason said. “I trust you. Completely. Why don’t I call for the pizza? Malin—I mean, Miss Pedersen—gave me some cash. My treat.”

“Malin,” Thom repeated. “You call her Malin?”

“Not around the office. But she’s my cousin, so it would be weird to call her Miss Pedersen any other time.”

“What else did she tell you?”

Jason shrugged. “Just...stuff.”

“Like what?”

“She said I shouldn’t let you drink. That I should keep you away from sleazy women. I’m supposed to work out with you every day, and if I can get you to read an actual book, she’ll give me a bonus.”

“She expects you to do all that? She must be tough to work for.”

“Nah, she’s really nice. I’ve screwed up a few times—more than a few times—and she always gives me another chance.”

“What else do you know about her? Does she have a boyfriend?” He handed Jason the beer and this time the other man took a sip, his earlier reluctance forgotten.

“I think she used to. Someone said he used to come to the games, but he lived in New York. That’s where she used to live before she came back to Minneapolis.” He shrugged. “I’ve never seen her with a guy. I’m pretty sure she likes men. I’ve just never...”

“What’s her job?”

“Social media. She runs the team website and all the social media accounts. She filters the team’s Twitter posts and Instagram photos. So if you post something that would reflect badly on the team, she catches it before it goes out.”

“I don’t do social media,” Thom said.

“Yeah, I know. You make up for it with all the other stuff that gets posted about you. God, I wish I had your social life. All those beautiful women. Maybe you can give me some advice?”

“Where does she live?”

“Malin? She’s got a place in Merriam Park. I’ve only been there a few times. Just to check on the place while she was out of town. It’s nothing like this place. Just an ordinary house.”

Thom let those few nuggets of information roll around in his mind for a bit, curious about the woman who suddenly held so much power over him. He wanted to dig deeper, to find out every little detail about her. What did she eat for breakfast? Did she sleep in pajamas or the nude? Did she—

Thom stopped himself. This was exactly the kind of thought pattern that had gotten him into trouble in the past. Once he’d decided he wanted a woman, there was nothing that stood in his way. It didn’t matter how long it took or what he had to do to get her into bed. In the end, he always made it happen.

A voice from the TV caught his attention. “A late-breaking report regarding your Minneapolis Blizzard.”

Both Jason and Thom turned to look at the television.

“Trade rumors are swirling, and at the center of the storm is Blizzard defenseman Tommy ‘The Beast’ Quinn. Sources say his off-ice shenanigans haven’t been sitting well with team’s owner, Davis Pedersen. Is Quinn on his way out? Fans are not going to be happy. We’ll have an exclusive on our late report.”

Thom stared at the television for a long moment. With a soft curse, he shut the television off and tossed the remote on the coffee table. “She told me I wasn’t going to be traded,” he muttered. Launching to his feet, he turned to Jason, looming over him in his most threatening manner. “What do you know about this?”

“I—I— Nothing. They don’t tell me anything. I swear.”

“Come on. I want you to show me where she lives. Miss Pedersen and I have some things to discuss.” Thom shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the keys for his truck. When Jason didn’t move, he said, “Don’t you have to go with me?”

“She’s probably still at the office,” Jason said.

“I’m not going to talk to her there.”

“You can call her,” Jason suggested. He held out his cell phone.

Thom shook his head. “No, this has to be done in person. Why would she lie to me? I mean, I went in there fully expecting to be traded. And then she decides to put me through this crap. Locked up like a prisoner with you reporting my every move. What’s that all about?”