Authors: Mackenzie Crowne
“I’m sorry to disturb you.” Decked out in another of her red power suits, with a pair of genuine, to-die-for Jimmy Choo heels to match, V offered her an apologetic smile. Of course, her makeup and hair were perfect as well, despite the hour.
Gracie gritted her teeth and lifted a questioning brow, instead of hissing and slamming the door in the woman’s stunning face. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, I’m afraid there is.”
She stiffened. “Look, if it’s about Murphy, he’s still mostly puppy. We’re working on his manners.” And if her dog was here where he belonged instead of snoring in bed with Angel, he’d no doubt be showing his lack of manners by pouncing on Jake’s perfectly coiffed publicist. An opportunity missed. Rats!
V’s laugh tinkled. A light, happy sound. “Oh, hon. Bless your heart. No, Murphy is fine, and I have to tell you, though I’ve yet to meet him, I’m in love with your dog.”
She blinked.
V’s blue eyes sparkled with gleeful mischief. “I would’ve given anything to see him take Jake down, and do you know how many women would pay a fortune to claim they’d rearranged Kevin Tucker’s balls?”
Gracie winced.
V waived a slim-fingered hand. “Serves him right. The man is a player of the first order. He’s littered the entire East Coast with broken hearts and a good portion of the south.”
A reluctant smile formed. The horror on his face when she handed him the pees
had
been funny.
V stepped forward to link her arm with Gracie’s. “No, I’m here because we need to talk about what we’re going to tell the press.”
“The press?” Gracie’s gut churned. “Why would we tell them anything?”
“Jake’s living here. It’s only a matter of time before the story gets out. Now his friends know about you, it’s even more essential we get ahead of the story. They’ll keep his whereabouts secret since he asked, and he’s threatened to break their necks if they say one word about you being the Gridiron Girl, but Jake is watched. They all are. How long do you think it will be until some enterprising reporter shows up at the door?”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
V tugged her out into the hall and started toward the stairs. “Between the two of us, we could come up with a plan of action on our own, but you know how men are. Jake will turn positively nasty if he doesn’t get to put in his two cents. He’s waiting downstairs.”
Gracie hesitated, but like a force of nature, V continued forward, dragging Gracie along in her wake and barely letting her get in a word edgewise.
“Jake tells me you design websites. How fascinating. I can barely open my e-mail, and you blog, too. I checked out your archives. I nearly peed my pants laughing at some of your posts. And your minions? Why, they’re fabulous. How long have you been following football?”
“Well, I—”
“You certainly know your stuff. I could’ve slapped Jake for insulting you the way he did. He knows better, and he’s usually more tempered when dealing with women. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
“He’s arrogant and rude, and I don’t want to talk to him
or
the press.”
V propelled them forward as though she hadn’t heard a word. She led Gracie down the stairs, chattering like they were the best of friends. “He’s been a bear since that hit on Brian last week. They’re old friends, you know. Played together in college. Have you ever been to a Marauders game?”
Did the woman ever stop to take a breath? Or let a person answer? Probably about as often as she took no for an answer. They reached the foyer and Gracie dug in her bare heels, refusing to take another step. “V?”
V lifted her brow but kept their arms linked. “Yes?”
“Are you like this with everyone, or do you save the pushy agent routine for the women you see as a threat to Jake’s career?”
Her smile turned wry, with a twinge of apology. “Everyone, I’m afraid. Comes from having to grow up fast. I have the feeling that’s a concept with which you’re familiar.”
How, exactly, did she know that? Sure, one could recognize the signs of a rough childhood, if they knew where to look, but they’d only met the one time. Either V was incredibly perceptive, or she’d been digging for information. Neither option appealed.
The chattering girlfriend vanished as the publicist stepped into the breach. “Yes, Jake comes first, but I know for a fact the press has been hounding you. I also know you’ve been able to avoid them, so far. That won’t last for long. The anonymity of the Internet is a powerful thing, but every communication leaves a fingerprint. The press will eventually find you and if you think they were in a frenzy before, you haven’t seen
anything
yet.”
She tugged gently on Gracie’s arm until they were moving down the hall again. “This situation between you and Jake is news, Gracie. Big news. It’s my job to spin the story so it shows in the best possible light. Something I can’t do if my clients refuse to cooperate.”
“I’m not your client.”
“No, but Jake is. He’s also my best friend, and I won’t see him or his career hurt when I can do something to avoid it. Since the two of you are a package deal for the next three months, you’re in this, whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t.”
She pulled Gracie through the kitchen doorway and finally released her arm. “Yes, that much is obvious. I suggest we all sit down and you can explain why.”
Elbows leaning on the kitchen table, Jake sat alone, a deck of cards in one hand, a beer bottle in the other. He shrugged, bumping up a shoulder as if to say,
don’t blame me, this was her idea
.
Gracie paused inside the doorway and crossed her arms. Explain she was the love child of a league insider? Right. News? Hers was the kind of story that made journalism careers and destroyed lives. No way in hell. Whether her father knew of her existence or not, he didn’t deserve to be blindsided. Neither did his family, and
she
had no interest in having her face splashed across every rag and cable broadcast in the country. “I’d rather not.”
Jake sipped at his beer before setting the bottle aside. “You might as well talk to her. She’ll wear you down eventually. She’s stubborn.”
V smiled serenely at her friend and client.
Gracie shook her head. “Tell me about it. What’s her alma matter? Bull Dog State?”
His bark of laughter brought her a reluctant smile.
V huffed out a breath. “If you two don’t mind, I suggest we get to work.”
Gracie eyed the aftermath of his poker game. A dozen empty beer bottles sat on the counter behind him. A pile of multi-colored chips rested by one elbow. The stubs of several cigars lay in an otherwise clean ashtray.
“Where are the poker jocks, and I hope you didn’t smoke those things in here? Mary will have a fit.”
He chuckled. “Relax, princess. We stepped out back. V sent the poker jocks on their way so we could have our powwow.”
“With instructions to keep their big mouths shut.” V slid into the chair across from him. “But the clock is ticking. Whatever statement we come up with, we need to release it first thing tomorrow morning.”
Gracie swallowed back a rush of nausea. “You don’t need me for this. I don’t care what statement you put out as long as the girls are protected and it doesn’t include me.”
V sat back, her gaze intent. “We’ll protect the girls, but leaving you out of the press release is impossible.”
“Why? The press has plenty to chew on with Jake and his surprise sisters. You don’t need to mention me.”
Jake cocked his head. “Why would a woman who runs such a popular blog shy away from free publicity? I’d think you’d jump at the opportunity.”
The question hit a little too close to home. She crossed her arms. “Well, you’d be wrong.”
V leaned forward, her face deadly serious. “Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. As soon as they learn Jake is here and in competition with you for the girls’ guardianship, you won’t have a moment’s peace. They won’t stop until they know everything about you.”
Unease bloomed into full-blown panic. “Fine. Make something up. Tell them I’m a maid from the Bronx or a clown with the circus, I don’t care, but keep my face out of the limelight and my name out of your press release.”
“Lies always come out, Gracie. I won’t jeopardize Jake’s career that way.”
True. But sometimes the truth was more dangerous than the lie. “Then tell them this. The twins’ maternal aunt is in the running for guardianship. At the end of the allotted time, a determination will be made and the situation settled. In the meantime, she wishes to retain her privacy.”
“They’ll never accept that.”
She was going to throw up. “They’ll have to, because that’s all they’re going to get.”
“We’ve been invaded.” Mary’s voice shook breathlessly.
Gracie sat back in the coffee shop booth and tucked the phone closer to her ear. “Invaded? By whom?”
“I’m looking out the front window. There are three news vans outside the gate. You know, the one’s with the big satellite dishes?”
“Oh, shit.”
“Language, young lady.”
Gracie winced. “Sorry.”
“The phone hasn’t stopped ringing for the past hour. Reporters are calling, asking for Jake.”
Oh, God!
She’d expected some type of fallout, but why hadn’t she considered they’d flock to the farm once V released the story this morning? “Are the girls all right?”
“They’re fine. Their bus arrived shortly before the first van showed up.”
“Thank God. Have you called Jake?”
“He’s on his way, as is Miss Price. He asked for your number and said he was going to call you. I wanted to warn you of what you’d be coming home to, in case he didn’t reach you.”
“I appreciate that.” More than she’d ever know. “Do me a favor? Call him back and tell him when he speaks to the press…” What? She’d made her wishes clear, but what of the girls? She didn’t want their pictures plastered all over the news any more than hers and with a crowd outside constantly, they’d become prisoners in their home. An unacceptable possibility, but would the press stay clear of the farm if he insisted?
She pulled her beeping phone from her ear to glance at the screen. Manic butterflies burst into flight in her belly. “Never mind, Mary. There he is now. I’ll be there as soon as I can
.
” She pressed the screen to switch calls and didn’t bother with a greeting. Anger and dread made her tone harsh. “Damn it, Malone. Why are the press at the farm?”
He snorted, a derisive burst of air. “You can’t be that naïve.”
“That’s not what I meant. Why are they at the
farm
? Why aren’t they chasing
you
down at the sports complex?”
“My guess is they consider the farm sexier than the stadium, and since they know about the will and its ridiculous stipulations, they know I’ll show up there eventually.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“Where are you? I’ll pick you up. We can discuss how we’re going to handle things on the way home.”
Home? Since when did he consider the farm home? “Not on your life. This is
your
problem. I’m not coming anywhere near the farm until those people are gone.”
“How do you figure it’s my problem? Last time I checked, there were two of us thrown into this custody competition.”
She groaned and dropped her head into her free hand.
“Sorry, princess, but you don’t have a choice. Take my word for it. The crowd at the gate won’t be going anywhere until they get their story. Have you forgotten about the curfew stipulation?”
Her head snapped up. Crap. As a matter of fact, she had. She lied without qualm. “Of course not.”
“Then tell me where to meet you.”
She swallowed. Run the press gauntlet at the gate—with Jake at her side? No frigging way. If he couldn’t get rid of them, she wouldn’t be going through the gate. There was another way onto the property, but she didn’t look forward to using it. She glanced at her pretty, sex-on-heels boots and wanted to cry. “Don’t let them get any pictures of the girls, Malone. In fact, don’t let them get near them.”
“The girls are fine. Mary’s with them and V’s on her way over there. Where are you?”
“I’ll find my own way home. You get rid of the press.” She hung up before he could respond.
* * * *
Jake leaned a shoulder against the doorframe of the converted gym, crossed his arms, and settled in to see what Gracie would do next. His initial belief, when he spotted the unmistakably feminine figure dart from the woods at the back of the property, was one of the reporters gathered at the gate had decided to slip onto the property for a closer look. His promise to keep the twins out of the spotlight fresh in his mind, he left V to handle the mob and went in search of the determined press babe.
The wet snow made the effort easy. He followed the woman’s clearly defined trail straight to the barn, only then realizing his mistake when he arrived in time to watch her slip inside the door. Even at a distance, there was no mistaking Gracie’s fine ass in the hip hugging skirt or her long, slim legs.
Following her inside, he moved stealthily through the dimly lit hallway to stop in the open gym doorway where he nearly swallowed his tongue. Having already shed her coat and kicked off her boots, she bent over at the waist. With her back to him, she reached beneath her skirt and shimmied her hips as she peeled down the soaked netting of her panty hose.
His suddenly dry throat clicked on a helpless swallow. On closer inspection, he’d been right. Despite being red and chafed from the cold, her legs were definitely better wet.
“Holy crap, it’s cold!” She shivered visibly and glanced around. “Yes!” She rushed to the far wall and snatched down one of a half dozen fluffy towels from a rack.
His gaze flicked to her waterlogged boots and panty hose, discarded in a soggy heap in the corner, and swung back to her bare feet. He frowned. She’d obviously arrived back on the farm on foot, but how? From what he understood, the only other access to the estate was a gate at the far end of a half-mile dirt track through the woods. The gate was reportedly locked, and he didn’t think the track had been plowed.