Authors: Mackenzie Crowne
Jake shook his hand. “Not if New England has anything to say about it. We’ve got our work cut out for us this week.”
Tuck’s sharp snort made clear what he thought of
that
nonsense.
Silent until now, Tom Walden laughed. “Pride goeth before the fall, Tuck.”
Tuck bared his teeth in a wicked smile. “Skill. Pure, superior skill.”
As stealthy as she could manage, Gracie leaned her head to the side and spotted an exit sign on the far wall. Would this crowd of oversized warriors buy her claim of not feeling well? It was the truth after all. She never got the chance.
“Where are your manners, gentlemen?” The redhead smiled and extended her hand. “I swear. Men can be completely rude. I’m Sharon Walden. You must be Gracie Gable.”
All eyes turned Gracie’s way, and she couldn’t help her flinch. She placed her hand in Sharon’s briefly and murmured something. Her lips were numb and bees buzzed in her ears. She had no idea if what she said made a lick of sense. She suspected
not
when she turned her head and her gaze locked with the watchful, denim blue eyes her mother’s diary had described in minute detail.
Sharp creases bracketed her father’s mouth in a strained smile far different than the carefree grin she’d come to recognize from the covers of all those magazines and newspapers she’d pored over throughout the years.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Miss Gable.”
And I’ve devoured everything I could find about you.
She sucked air through her teeth as quietly as she could manage. Ripples of joy battled with crippling fear. The competing sentiments rioted through her system and left her weak. She had to lock her knees to keep them from giving way beneath her as she placed her hand in Tom Walden’s. “Likewise.”
Beside her father, the commissioner dipped his chin and offered her a smile. “I knew an Angela Gable once. You remember her, Tom. She was Simon White’s secretary. As I recall, the two of you were an item for a time. Ah, that is—” He offered Sharon a sheepish smile.
Sharon waved him off with a laugh, but Gracie’s eyes sliced back to Tom.
He stared at her mouth, or more precisely the mole at the corner. He looked up and his intent gaze held her spellbound. “I remember. Any relation?”
This couldn’t be happening. She swallowed. Utterly aware of Jake’s fingers flinching convulsively on her elbow, she couldn’t look away from the question in her father’s eyes.
Was it possible for a pounding heart to break through the chest wall?
Oh, God.
“She was my mother.”
Tom’s face paled. A painful lump formed in her throat and clawing talons clenched her manically beating heart. Her gaze dropped to the hand Sharon silently slid onto his arm.
“Well, I’ll be.” Oblivious to the melodrama taking place around him, Doug chuckled. “She was a lovely young thing. How is she?”
Jake’s fingertips dug into her elbow painfully. The lump in her throat expanded, threatening to cut off her supply of air. “She passed away.”
“I’m sorry.”
“When?” Sadness competed with the dawning shock in Tom’s eyes.
“A long time ago,” Jake answered sharply before she could. His gaze locked onto Tom’s. “
You
dated Gracie’s mother?”
Tom squeezed Sharon’s hand, but his gaze never left Gracie’s face. “She worked for Simon White, my first agent. A lifetime ago.”
Biting her bottom lip, Gracie chanced a sidelong glance toward Jake and flinched. Horrified fury crackled like emerald fire in his eyes. Suddenly his gaze jerked to something or someone over her right shoulder, and he cursed under his breath. She followed his gaze and mumbled a curse of her own. Dina Sutton had set a direct course and was headed straight for them.
Jake glanced around and tugged her close to his side. He directed his comment to no one in particular. “If you’ll excuse us, Gracie and I need to talk.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
He overruled her. “Now.”
Clearly not recognizing the gravity of the situation, Tuck stepped in front of them. “Sounds like the lady isn’t interested, buddy.”
“Shut up, Tuck.”
At Jake’s growled demand, Tuck held out both hands spread wide. Disapproval beetled Doug’s brow, and Tom opened his mouth as if to object. Jake didn’t give him the chance. He dragged her toward the exit.
Jake stalked down the hallway, ignoring curious glances in his search for a private corner in the busy museum. Other than her grumbling commentary on what she was going to do to him once he finally let go of her arm, Gracie didn’t put up much of fight at being dragged about like a naughty child. Perhaps she’d spotted Dina, perhaps not. Either way, her cooperation was a good thing. Tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her through The Met might contribute to the tale of their romance, but the way his luck was running, he’d end up getting hauled to jail on abuse charges instead.
The sign above a door twenty feet away caught his attention. He grunted and changed direction. Shoving open the door, he tugged Gracie inside. Startled by his sudden appearance in the feminine enclave, a pair of blondes stared at him wide-eyed from their place in front of the vanity mirrors.
“If you don’t mind, ladies, we need a bit of privacy.”
“I mind.” Gracie tugged at her arm.
He held tight.
The taller of the two women laughed. “You do realize this is the ladies’ room?”
Ignoring them for the moment, he dipped his knees and bent at the waist to scan the floor beneath the stalls. All were empty. He turned to Gracie, dropping his head until they were nose to nose. “Stay put if you know what’s good for you.” Releasing her arm, he stalked to the blondes. He offered them a smile, took each by the arm, and escorted them to the door. “I do indeed, and since the two of you are the only ones here, we’ll have plenty of privacy once you leave. Thanks for understanding.”
“Wait—”
He shoved the door closed behind them and turned. Dropping his shoulders back against the metal of the door effectively locked him and Gracie in, and anyone else out.
She stood before him with her hands on her hips. “You’ve got a lot of nerve—”
“
I’ve
got a lot of nerve? You’ve been lying your ass off from the moment we met, lady.”
She winced but then crossed her arms. “You asked if anything in my past could hurt you, and I said no. When did I lie?”
“Nothing in your past can hurt me, huh?” He jerked his chin over his shoulder. “He may have been semi-cordial out there, but don’t fool yourself. Doug Costa hates me. He’s a powerful man. Powerful enough to ruin my career. He wouldn’t blink an eye at using his power to grind me into the ground if he thinks I can hurt
him
.” His chest expanded on a painful breath. Fear clenched in his gut. “But as bad as discovering the league commissioner is your long lost daddy would be, I’m afraid the truth of this situation is even worse.”
She jutted up her chin in an obstinate angle, but her gaze skittered away.
Bile rose in his throat. “Jesus, Gracie. Please tell me
Tom
isn’t your father.”
“If I do, will you drop the subject?”
Unshed tears shimmered in the angry brown gaze she shifted to clash with his. Brown, not violet. He hadn’t questioned the change when she’d come downstairs looking like a magical creature in glimmering silk. He should have. Was nothing about her real?
“Only if it’s the truth.”
She said nothing and her eyes slid shut. Her mouth quivered before she bit her lower lip. A single tear cut a shiny path down her cheek to catch on the mole at the corner of her mouth.
Oh, shit.
His stomach did a rolling twist then crashed in a freefall. Locking his knees when they threatened to buckle, he slumped against the door.
Fuck!
His chest heaved as he gasped for breath. He swallowed the bile burning its way up his throat. He’d never been as furious or scared in his life. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“
I’m
a piece of work? You’re the one—”
He spoke over her, his voice rising to a shout. “Because of you, one of the best men I know is about to see his life destroyed, right before his eyes! Do you know what this is going to do to his wife? Sharon doesn’t deserve being dragged through the mud of the coming press storm.”
“I never meant for anyone—”
He snorted, narrowing his eyes. “For months, you’ve been harping at me to do what’s best for the girls. I’m thinking that’s all a smokescreen.”
“Excuse me? A smokescreen for what?”
“You’re true agenda.”
“What would that be?”
“How the fuck should I know? You clam up whenever I ask a question, but anyone who cares for kids as much as you claim to would realize what this is going to do to Tom’s kids. He has two teenage boys. Do you care? Do you
fucking
care
what this is going to do to their lives?”
“Not fair!” Fury flashed in her shimmering eyes, and she dropped her arms. Her hands curled into fists. “I
told
you my father had a family. I asked you to let it go. Did you listen? No!
You’re
the one who kept pushing. Why couldn’t you just let it go?”
“I wish I had.” He flung out an arm and pointed back toward the door. “You saw his face. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. He’s been my friend for a long time. I know him. Tom Walden doesn’t
let things go
. He’ll go all honorable and dig in until he has his answers. When he has them, a lot of people I care about will be hurt!”
Pain flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t back down. Her chin bumped up a notch and she spaced out her words. “This. Isn’t. My. Fault.”
Beyond furious, he saw red. If she’d only trusted him, he could’ve handled this in a way where Sharon and the boys weren’t dragged into any fallout. “You should’ve told me!”
She shouted back. “I did tell you. I told you to drop it!”
Someone pounded on the door at his back. He jammed a hand through his hair. “What a complete cluster fuck.” He sighed and glanced around the room. Maybe he could still salvage the situation. If he could get her out of here before the shit hit the fan. Tom would have questions. They’d figure out how to handle this fucking mess together. “Let’s go.”
She didn’t move, except to cross her arms. “I don’t happen to like you much at the moment. I’d rather not go anywhere with you, thank you very much.”
The pugnacious twist of her lips only added fuel to the fire of his anger.
He couldn’t help the sneer in his voice. “Yeah, well, ditto to that, lady. Unfortunately, neither of us has a choice in the matter. Not for the next forty-eight hours anyway.”
He refused to feel guilty when she flinched. Damn it, she should’ve trusted him. What did she think he’d do if he found out Tom was her father, narc his best friend out to the press?
Disgusted, he straightened away from the door, turned, and yanked it open. The simultaneous flash of numerous cameras made him blink. Dina Sutton fronted a half dozen members of the press. Her snapping green eyes broadcast her almost manic glee at snagging such a juicy story. She held out a tape recorder and tossed out the first question. “Is it true you’re Tom Walden’s daughter, Ms. Gable?”
The excited gasps and murmurs of several of her colleagues filled the hallway. Unlike Dina, the others had obviously come late to the party and hadn’t yet realized the blockbuster story they’d accidently tripped on to. Jake whipped his head around. Dark eyes wide and full of dread, Gracie’s face was as pale as the white tile walls behind her.
“No comment.” Jake spoke before turning around. When he did, he strung together several lurid curses as more than one reporter peeled off from the group to race down the hall. He didn’t have to guess where they were headed. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he hit speed dial and held up his hand to block his face when the remaining cameras continued to flash. Tom answered on the third ring. “Get Sharon out of there. Now! I’ll explain later.”
Wearing a triumphant smile, Dina Sutton snapped one last picture over Jake’s shoulder, spun around and, along with the remaining reporters, broke into a run.
* * * *
Too numb to put up a fight, Gracie nearly broke an ankle staggering on her heels behind Jake as he raced after the fleeing press. He gave her no time to examine the wide fissure splitting her heart in two. She had no opportunity to mourn the fact he didn’t include her amongst those he cared about who would be hurt by the revealing of Tom Walden’s secret.
The lack of reflection was a blessing. Her heart had taken enough damaging blows tonight.
Dragging her along at a swift clip, he rounded a corner. The breath left her in a whoosh when he stopped short and she slammed into his broad back. Breathing became even more difficult when she peeked around his shoulder. A band of horror squeezed her lungs. Geez, did members of the press have some kind of telepathic intercom system allowing them to shoot one another silent messages whenever a juicy story reared its head?
She sucked air through her teeth in a wheezing gasp. Menacing. Frightening. The quietly serene, sophisticated atmosphere of the elite fund-raiser had degenerated into the harsh din of a frenzied lynch mob. Several yards away, nearly two dozen reporters competed for answers, surrounding Tom and Sharon Walden like a human noose.
Sober and tense, deep grooves bracketed her father’s tightened lips as he pushed forward toward the front entrance of the building, one arm raised to shield his pale wife from the cameras and tape recorders thrust at them. Scanning the crowd, his gaze sliced past Gracie and immediately whipped back. For several long seconds, their gazes fused. The glittering recognition in his eyes left no doubt he’d discerned her secret.
The world stopped, along with her heart. The crowd disappeared. There was no Jake. No angry accusations. No light or sound. No lingering sense of menace. Only she and her father existed in that moment. Like an old eight millimeter movie scrolling through her mind, the lonely moments of her life flashed through her head. Her mother’s sudden death. The countless nights Sarah left Gracie alone in their small apartment because she had no choice. Receiving the news of Sarah’s diagnosis and standing in the chill wind as Sarah’s body was lowered into the ground.