Changing His Game (Entangled Brazen) (Gamers) (14 page)

So he nodded to Grant and ushered Sydney out the door, even though his broken heart was back there on the floor with Marley.

…

Marley drove home in the dark in a daze.

In fact, the whole last hour and a half felt like some sort of dream sequence. Or nightmare sequence. One of the two.

The man she’d been falling in love with was her boss. He owned the magazine she worked for. And not once had he thought to tell her that super-important bit of information.

And of course, she’d found out right before arguably the biggest interview of her career. An interview that she stammered and stumbled through. James had stared at her like she was ill, and Grant had spent the whole time frowning at her and then the door of his office, like Austin was going to magically appear.

If he had, she might have been hard pressed not to knee him in the balls.

He’d lied. Lies of omission were still lies. And he knew how much this job meant to her. He knew how important it was to her. He hadn’t said one word about how her paychecks came from his bank account.

What else had he lied about? Did he actually care about her? Maybe that whole story about his father had been a lie.

A voice in her head told her no, that he’d been honest about that. But the trust wasn’t there. He’d shattered it in an instant. She could still see his deer-in-headlights look when he turned around. But worse was when he quickly adopted a blank expression, like he’d wiped his memory card. Of the movie theater lobby, their date, breakfast in bed.

Everything just…back to blank. Default. Factory settings.

The tears did come then, in hot streaks down her face. She banged her hand on her steering wheel, glad for the cover of darkness as she cried on the way home from the office.

She wept for her fucked up interview. She wept for herself. She wept for Austin. And she sobbed for what they could have been together.

Chapter Thirteen

Austin hated his gas fireplace. He lay on his back on his living room floor, staring at the flames, wishing for the smell of wood burning.

His builder had said it was efficient and clean. And Austin had wanted nothing but the best, because when he was a kid, he hadn’t had anything close to the best.

But now, he wished for the old-fashioned brick fireplace he and his dad had had back in their small ranch house. He’d forgotten to close the flue one time and a bat had gotten into their house. Austin smiled a little at that memory, picturing his stoic dad roaring and swinging a broom wildly at the winged animal.

His back started to hurt, because there was only a thin rug separating him from his wood floor. It was not lost on him how pathetic this was. He hadn’t bothered to dress that morning and only wore a pair of pajama bottoms.

He’d never brought a woman here. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. He had no set rule of
No Women in the House
. But this was his place, his refuge. He had photos of his father and plaques about
Gamers
and
Aric’s Revenge
.

If anyone really wanted to know who he was, they only had to come here. It was all laid out.

With a sharp pang, he thought his one main regret with Marley was that he hadn’t brought her here. He hadn’t cooked for her. He hadn’t shown her who he was before he royally fucked up. He’d had so many opportunities to come clean, and he’d avoided them because he was selfish. And a coward. He’d known all along she was the one, hadn’t he? He’d known, and then, scared she’d leave him, he kept quiet. And his silence made that fear into a reality.

He was thirty-two years old and more fucked up than he wanted to admit.

He groaned and rolled to his side.

Stupid fucking fake fireplace.

A door opened, and the creaking signaled it was his front door, which needed some oil on its hinges. He tensed, knowing he’d locked it, and rolled onto his back.

The footfalls were familiar, though, and Austin relaxed when Grant sauntered into the room.

He stopped at Austin’s side, peering down at him as he took a large bite out of a breakfast burrito. He nudged Austin’s rib with his foot. “Looks like you’re handling this well.” His voice was muffled but still sarcastic through a mouthful of food.

Austin scowled. “Handling what well?”

Grant swallowed and cocked his head. “Heartbreak.”

Austin stared at him.

“Sydney told me you had a date. You’ve been distracted lately. Now you’re lying on your floor like a weirdo. I put it all together because I’m smart like that.”

Austin snorted and rolled onto his side, away from Grant, to stare once more into his fireplace. “How the hell did you get into my house?”

“Uh, a key.” Grant’s voice moved and the man came into his vision. He set a carrier with two steaming Styrofoam cups on the coffee table and sat down in a recliner. He propped his feet next to the drinks, which Austin could smell were full of coffee.

“A key.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t remember giving you a key to my house.”

“You didn’t.” Grant said casually, tearing off a piece of tortilla and tossing it into his mouth.

“Then how the hell did you get one?”

Grant shrugged. “You have a key to my house. I figured I should have one to yours. I made a copy from your keychain.”

His friend was infuriating. “I have a key to your house because sometimes I help with Sydney. There’s no need for you to have one for my house.” He paused and then muttered, “I don’t even have a cat.”

“You could at least get a fish tank.”

“I don’t want a fish tank.”

“Or, like, a gecko.”

“Grant—”

“Did you know they sell hedgehogs now? Pet hedgehogs.”

“Who’s
they
?”

Grant ignored him. “I kind of want one, but Sydney said no. She doesn’t trust me to take care of it. She ruins all my fun.”

Austin squeezed the bridge of his nose as a headache began to blossom between his eyes. Which wasn’t unusual around Grant. “Did you come here to talk about pets?”

Grant gestured to another foil-covered package on the coffee table. “I brought you breakfast.”

Austin rolled to his stomach and then pushed up to standing. He sat down hard on the couch and stared at what he assumed was another breakfast burrito. His favorite coffee shop made these, and Grant knew it. It was also not on the way to his house from Grant’s, so his friend had to drive out of the way to get it.

Which made Austin feel like shit to say, “I’m not really hungry.”

Grant kept chewing and didn’t respond.

Austin didn’t really want to talk. He’d been enjoying staring into the fire, wallowing in his thoughts.

He grabbed one of the Styrofoam cups and lifted off the lid. He took a sip of the bitter black coffee.

It burned his mouth and throat and he coughed. “So, I’ve been seeing Marley Lake.”

Grant’s jaw dropped, open mouth full of burrito. “Well, shit.”

Austin nodded, eyes on his hands. “Yup.”

“I thought there was something going on between you when she showed up in my office while you were there. And then her interview…”

Austin jerked his head up. “What about it?” he demanded.

Grant winced. “Oh man.”

Austin leaned forward. “What. Happened?”

“Calm down. Look, it just didn’t go well, okay? She was a wreck. She seemed distracted and unsure of herself. I’d never seen her like that. James didn’t know what had gotten into her.”

Austin jumped to his feet and began pacing in front of the fireplace. “This is all my fault. Fuck!” he shouted, slamming his hand down on the mantel. He turned to Grant and held his palms together. “Please give her another interview. Please.”

Grant cocked his head. “How about you start from the beginning.”

So Austin did. He left out some of the more…dirty details. He told Grant about how she wanted to stay away from him at first because she was focused on her job. He talked about her ambition. How well they fit and how she made him laugh. He explained that he deceived her—deceived was a bitter word in his mouth, but there was no other word for it, really. He’d lied to her about his position at
Gamers
, because he was a selfish, distrustful bastard, and so she wouldn’t refuse to see him.

“So she didn’t know, Grant. She had no idea until she saw me in your office and Sydney said I owned it.”

Grant leaned back on the couch and blew out a breath as he combed his fingers through his hair. “Wow, no wonder she was a mess in the interview.”

“I know that I never get involved in the editorial aspects of the magazine but—”

“And you think now is a good time?” Grant’s jaw ticked. “She got where she is because of herself. Not a man. And this right here is exactly what she was worried about. That you’d show her favoritism. That her colleagues would think less of her.”

Austin felt helpless. “But—”

“I’m sorry, Austin. Once all the candidates have interviewed, James will pick his top choice and let me know. And that’s all I’m going to do.”

“But—”

“Quit saying
but
. You know I’m right. We’re conducting interviews with members of her team about her leadership skills. It’s not all about the interview. Which is good for Marley.” Grant’s eyes narrowed. “You believe in her?”

Austin bit his lip. Then he nodded. “And I…love her.”

For the first time that day, surprise flitted over Grant’s face. “Then she’ll prove herself. One bad interview won’t break her.”

Austin’s chest constricted. An interview might not break her, but had he?

“You need to talk to her, Austin. Do you want to be with her?”

He held his hands in front of him in a pleading gesture. “Of course, but how’s she ever going to trust me again after this?”

Grant laughed bitterly. “That’s rich coming from you. You want her to trust you when you don’t trust her?”

“I trust her.”

“Yeah? I get that you were hesitant to tell her about
Gamers
, but why didn’t you tell her about
Aric’s Revenge
, huh? Why’d you let her keep thinking you worked in the damn IT department?”

Austin’s face prickled as the blood drained from it. “Because you know how I am. I have a hard time trusting anyone—”

“Do you trust me?” Grant’s chin was raised defiantly.

“Of course I trust you.”

Grant picked up the wrapped burrito from the coffee table and chucked it at Austin’s head. He ducked at the last minute so it hit the mantel, knocking off one of his Aric figurines. “Hey, that was a first edition—”

“I don’t give a fuck. You can get another one,” Grant said, on his feet now, jovial expression gone. “And really? You trust me? You rarely put me in the position to prove to you that I can be trusted. Austin, you wrote into our
Gamers
contract that you must sign off on all major financial decisions. Then, you tell me you want to sell. I find you a buyer that I believe in, and you drag your feet, acting like we gotta waterboard Ethan or make him pay a dowry or some shit. If you trusted me, you’d quit hemming and hawing and fucking sell it!”

Grant was out of breath when he was finished shouting.

Austin swore he’d just been transplanted to another planet. He hadn’t realized Grant felt like that. Not at all, and the whole thing was making him sick to his stomach. “I just want to make sure you’re okay going forward—”

Grant ran his fingers through his hair and then down his face. “I know, Austin. I’m sorry for yelling but damn, you can be frustrating as hell, you know that? Jesus Christ.”

Austin did know that. Which was why he held on to Grant maybe a little too hard. Grant put up with him. And Marley had, too.

Dammit.

Grant stepped forward. “I know your intentions are good, but at the end of the day, you have to trust me that I know what’s right for my business. That I chose a good partner to take
Gamers
to the next level. Put a little faith in me, Austin.”

He could trust Grant. He could sell
Gamers
and somehow try to get Marley back, since he’d no longer be her boss. It’d take one word, wouldn’t it? One word, a signature, and a handshake.

Even if he couldn’t get Marley back, he owed Grant. So with sweating palms and a shaky voice, he held out his hand. “Let’s call Ethan.”

…

Marley swiped the crumbs off of her desk into her trash can. She’d now had approximately three doughnuts today. Okay, three and a quarter if that doughnut hole counted. Which it probably did.

Owen had sensed her mood like some weird psychic and had been plying her with doughnuts all week. Which was awesome for the twenty seconds it took her to eat the doughnut, but not for the hour of self-loathing afterward.

This stupid heartbreak was going to be hell on her waistline.

She eyed the doughnut box on Owen’s desk. He held it up, an eyebrow raised, and she glared at him.

She needed water. Or maybe a juice cleanse.

Marley stood up and grabbed the dusty water bottle on her desk. On the way to the lunchroom, a deep voice stopped her. “Marley.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That was Grant’s voice. Which, other than Austin’s, was the last one she wanted to hear. Not after she’d humiliated herself in that mess of an interview.

She turned around slowly and met Grant’s blue eyes. He stared at her for a moment, and for the first time ever, she thought he looked nervous. “Uh, could I have a word with you in my office?”

The way he said it sent a chill down her spine. He’d found out. He’d found out about her and Austin and here was the old heave-ho. The
we’re letting you go
. The
we decided to go in another direction
.

She glanced nervously at her desk, but no one was discretely shoving her things into a box. She really, really wished she had water right now because her mouth was as dry as the Sahara.

She exhaled and then straightened her spine. She’d do this with dignity. Grant gestured to his office and she walked ahead of him, head high, white fingers clutching her water bottle.

He motioned to the chair across from his desk and the click of his door shutting was like a bullet into her ribs.

Grant sat in the chair behind his desk. He picked up a pen on top of his desk calendar and tapped it lightly, eyes focusing anywhere but her.

Awkward.

Finally Grant cleared his throat. “Look, Marley, I’m going to be honest and quick about this and let you know that I had a talk with Austin.”

She felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Her whole body shook, and she cursed all the doughnuts she’d eaten because right now her blood sugar was crashing. She hadn’t talked to Austin for a week, even though he’d called. And left messages. And emails.