The Surprise Princess (5 page)

Read The Surprise Princess Online

Authors: Patricia McLinn

And in some ways he was easier than Carolyn.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Hunter Pierce said.

“I don’t—”

“If you care about her, you’ll come.”

****

They closed the bar, though each nursed a single drink for the entire time.

The next day, Brad had brunch at an Evanston home, just north of Chicago, with Pierce and a half dozen people he’d never met before, including April Gareaux.

Her similarity to Katie was uncanny. Was that why he’d liked her immediately? Was that why he’d listened to her with a more open mind than he had to Hunter Pierce?

By the time he was driving back to Ashton, he knew he’d talk to C.J. and Carolyn. Maybe he even knew he’d do more.

As much of an impact as April had on him, it was something Pierce had said, while he’d looked at the woman he was going to marry. “If you don’t help us with this, Katie will never know. If you do nothing, she will never know. Take it from me, she’ll always wonder unless someone shows her it’s the only way you can move ahead.”

****

“Coach Spencer’s back,” student intern Maura announced the moment Katie returned from lunch.

“Good. So he wasn’t abducted by aliens? No ransom demands from desperate kidnappers? He isn’t languishing in prison, the victim of tragic mistaken identity?”

Maura giggled.

“If he were abducted by aliens,” Trevor said, “they could have done their experiments and returned him by now.” He was serious. Maura’s fellow student intern was always serious. Especially about things like alien abductions. On the upside, Trevor was great with graphics and other techy skills. “We wouldn’t know until he started exhibiting strange behavior.”

“So we’d never know,” Katie deadpanned.


Katie
,” Maura said, half giggling, half horrified. Well, if she was half giggling maybe the girl was finally getting over her mega crush on Brad.

Not that Katie could blame her, considering she’d gone into a mega crush on him the day she’d started in the office. As much as she wished otherwise, her recovery was still in doubt.

“Coach Spencer’s in the office with Coach,” Trevor announced. C.J. was always Coach —
The
Coach.

“With the door closed,” Maura added with heavy significance. “Coach would have to be royally pissed to close the door.”

Maura and Trevor led the interns who helped keep the office gears grinding. They had their drawbacks – Maura’s flair for drama, Trevor’s penchant for literalness – but who didn’t? They were smart and dependable.

“Perhaps,” she said gently, “the door was closed so they could talk without being drowned out by the roar of all the work getting done out here.”

Without looking up, Trevor said, “Yeah, I told that guy from IT two computers need new fans.”

Maura rolled her eyes, but grinned. And got back to work.

Katie shot one look at C.J.’s closed door – a rarity – and got to work herself.

It was nearly an hour before the door opened. She happened to be facing that way, as she looked over Trevor’s shoulder to discuss positioning the Aces logo on a new page for the website, so she saw both men looking serious … until they saw her and simultaneously produced big smiles.

That made her uneasy.

Granted, it took much less than usual to make her uneasy since Hunter Pierce’s visit. Not hearing more from him somehow made it worse. Even with Brad gone and Carolyn and C.J. accepting her statement that it was too outlandish to discuss, uneasiness dogged her.

They came toward her, C.J. saying they wanted to go over a few things.

She went back to her desk, ready to take notes.

No notes were necessary, because they took turns telling her things she already knew about the upcoming schedule for recruiting, campus visits, and Alum Night, when former players returned for the season’s second-to-last home game. That event always included several of Brad’s teammates from the first season C.J. coached.

“…plus, I’ll be going back to Chicago,” Brad said.

“Got that, Katie?” C.J. asked.

She raised one eyebrow at him. He was sitting on the edge of the empty desk beside hers. “I saw it on the master schedule,” she said.

“Yeah, but it’s been changed. Something, uh, came up – opportunity to see a great prospect. He goes tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? That’s a fast turnaround.” She tapped in her first note. “Okay. I’ll change the arrangements. And your expense reports are up to date. If you need an advance…?”

“Nope. I’m fine.”

She had the feeling the conversation had ended, yet neither man moved. C.J. was looking at Brad. Brad was frowning at a corner of her desk. She checked – there was nothing on that corner but space. Now her single raised eyebrow was raised at him. “Something wrong, Brad?”

“No, nothing’s wrong. Just thought – why don’t you come with me?”

“What?”

“Great idea,” C.J. said.

She repeated her unclever syllable. “What?”

“To Chicago,” Brad said. He met her eyes for an instant, then looked away. “I’ll be catching a couple high school players, then the team comes in for the game Saturday.”

She knew all that. But— “I don’t go to out-of-town games.”

“Why not?” Brad asked. Now he did look at her. She looked away.

“About time you did,” C.J. added. “It can only help you to see what Brad and the others do when they’re out of town.”

“Help me how?”

“Background,” C.J. said with a broad gesture.

“But—”

C.J. stood and started toward his office, clapping Brad on the shoulder as he passed. “Good idea. Real good idea, Brad. Glad you’re going, Katie.”

“I didn’t—”

But her boss was already in his office with the door closed – a second instance of that rare occurrence in one afternoon.

“Cool,” said Maura. “You’ll have so much fun.”

“Yeah. It’ll be fun,” Brad said. He didn’t sound entirely convinced. Then he added with his usual certainty, “I’m driving. No way are we trusting your collection of rust and bolts to get to Chicago, much less back. And do not bring that sweater.”

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

K
atie came out of her front door as Brad reached the porch.

She pulled the door closed and locked it. When she reached for her bag, it was gone.

With his long legs he was already depositing it in the trunk of his car when she reached him.

“Thank you, but—”

“You’re welcome. C’mon, get in. I want to get on the road.”

Why
? It was the same question she’d had when he’d set their departure time so early. But then, as now, the realization that he must have something to do in Chicago ahead of this evening’s tipoff stopped her from commenting. She didn’t want to know what his plans were for Chicago.

He held the passenger door open. She got in without saying anything.

But when he took the driver’s seat and started the car, he immediately said, “What’s that look for, Squirt?”

“Do not—”.

“Sorry, but you know that single raised eyebrow gets me. You do it because you know I can’t.”

“I had no idea you couldn’t raise only one eyebrow.”

“Hah. Okay, put that aside. What was the look for?”

“This isn’t what I expected.”

“The car? It’s just a sedan.”

“I know.”

“Few repairs. Gets me where I need to go. Good mileage. What’s not to like? It’s reliable and practical.”

That was what she hadn’t expected. A sports car, a convertible, a luxury model. Any of those wouldn’t have surprised her.

Before she came up with a way to say that, he was continuing. “Besides, we’re even. This—” He gestured toward the house as he backed into the street. “—wasn’t what I expected either. The inside sure isn’t what I’d expect from this outside. Looks like a house I would’ve skipped going to on Halloween as a kid and—”

“That’s ridicu—”

“—would’ve TP’d or egged in my wilder years.”

“—lous. Egged? You better not have.”

“Why not? Wicked witch’s house — that’s what it looks like with those spooky evergreens looming over everything.”

“They’re an excellent wind-break.”

“Yeah, if your house was all by itself on the frozen tundra.” He gestured at the neighborhood they were leaving. “You’ve got neighbors, in case you couldn’t tell from inside that forest.”

“The trees provide privacy.”

“From what? Aliens spying from outer space? They’re twice as tall as the house and take up most of the yard. Getting to your front door’s like hacking through a rain forest.”

“I doubt Norway spruce grow in the rain forest.”

“Is that what those things are?” Fat rain drops spattered the windshield. He flipped on the wipers. “Maybe they have room for them in Norway, but your house looks like it’s their captive – the little anybody can see of it.”

“I like them.”

Stopped for a red light, he dropped his hands from the wheel to his thighs, calling her attention to the worn denim of his jeans. It looked like it would be soft. She jerked her gaze up, and found him looking at her, apparently waiting for their eyes to meet, because he immediately said, “No you don’t.”

“What makes you think you know—”

“If you liked them, you would have said that first, instead you talked about wind-break and privacy.”

“I haven’t considered them.” That was as much as she was willing to concede. “I’ve been busy with the inside.”

“You pay the interns to work on your yard, don’t you?”

“How do you know—?”

His chuckle stopped her. “Like everybody doesn’t know everything anybody in the basketball office does. Anyway, you should get someone who knows something about landscaping. Ever hear of curb appeal? Yours is curb repel.”

“I’m not planning on selling,” she said stiffly.

“Ever?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, if you think you’re ever going to you should get rid of those behemoths and think about curb appeal. I could give you pointers. I worked for a landscaping company summers all through school.”

“No, thank you.”

“Suit yourself. So, why don’t you want to check out if you’re a princess?”

She glared at him. But since he was watching the highway, it had no effect. “You tried that before, remember?”

“Tried what?” he asked, all innocence.

“Criticizing my house then—”

“Just the outside.”

“—segueing to that ridiculous—”

“Not according to the State Department.”

“—speculation. It’s so clearly not true. It’s laughable.”

He glanced at her. “Then check it out and put it behind you.”

She crossed her arms. “I’m not going to discuss this with you.”

“Okay. Though any normal person would want to know, so you trying to ignore it is really strange.”

“There’s your answer – I’m not normal and I am strange.”

He grinned. “Way to turn it around on me, Katie. Okay, if you’re not going to talk about what I want to hear about, you can listen to what I want to talk about.”

“Which is?” she asked warily.

“How this recruiting class is shaping up. Get my tablet. I want you to check some stats for me. The benefit of having a passenger.”

****

Clouds piled up behind them, but as they crossed the Chicago city line, the sky ahead was bright.

“Do you mind if we make a stop on the way in to downtown?” Brad asked.

“No.”

“Thanks. It might take a while, but we’ve got plenty of time.”

He must have counted on her saying yes because he was already exiting the Interstate and heading into neighborhood streets.

The snowpiles here were higher and grungier. But lines of small neat houses sat on small neat plots, mostly bungalows in red brick, beige brick or white frame. He drove with a confidence, even anticipation – slowing for a school zone before they reached it – that made her think he knew the area.

Could this side-trip be why he’d wanted to leave so early? She’d thought he probably had plans to meet someone. A female someone. The hotel had seemed more likely than this neighborhood — especially since he was bringing her along.

Still, this gave her the opportunity to say something she needed to say.

She licked her lips. “Brad, I want you to know, I don’t expect you to entertain me. I can meet you at the games.” He looked over at her and she quickly added, “We don’t have to sit together, of course. I appreciate the ride, but I can find my own way—”

“Two of us going to the same place, but going separately? That doesn’t make sense. Think of the budget.”

She almost smiled. Instead, she looked down the side streets as they passed, seeing more rows of neat houses, some with snowmen standing guard. “Still, if you have plans. Things you want to do while you’re in Chicago…” Women you want to see. “I’m perfectly happy to entertain myself and make my own way.”

“I do have a few things I want to do in addition to work, but I was counting on you doing them with me.” The side of his mouth she could see lifted. “Nothing wicked.”
Darn it
. That thought, even in the privacy of her own mind, brought heat into her cheeks she knew from experience was accompanied by color.

He glanced at her, curiosity in his eyes, but he didn’t ask. So she didn’t have to lie.

“Besides,” he said, “this side trip means we won’t have time to do anything before the game except check in and get something to eat. So anything else will wait until tomorrow.”

He turned left, cruised almost to the end of a long block and parallel parked with practiced precision.

With a hand under her elbow he guided her onto the porch of a neat frame house painted white.

He rang the doorbell. A head bobbed into view through the lowest of three rectangular windows high on the door and disappeared.

As the main door swung open, a mildly scolding voice came, “You said you were going to call.”

“I was afraid you’d scoot out on me if you knew I was coming.”

A robust laugh erupted from a short gray-haired woman no one would ever think to call a little old lady.

“Andy, this is Katie Davis, she’s C.J.’s executive assistant and she runs the basketball office. Katie, this is my grandmother, Andrea Colecchi Spencer.”

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