The Devil in Denim (24 page)

The fizz of happiness in her stomach went abruptly flat.

“What’re you watching?” she asked.

He flicked a glance upward, then his gaze returned to the screen. “Sutter’s announced a rival bid for the Saints.”

“He’s what?” She moved so she could see what was on the screen. Sure enough, Will Sutter stood behind a podium, looking slickly confident as he answered questions from a shouting room of reporters. The banner cycling across the screen confirmed Alex’s statement. Shit.

“Can he afford it?”

“You know him better than me,” Alex said.

“Hardly. I hadn’t seen him in years until your party.” The prick. He’d been all smiling and smarmy last night. Pleased with himself. Because he knew he’d been about to do this.

Alex turned toward her, eyes sharp. “What did you two talk about yesterday?”

Maggie rubbed her temple, where a drumbeat of panic was starting to throb. “Nothing much. And no, he didn’t mention the fact he was going to do this. I would have told you. So, can he afford it?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Dad won’t want to sell to him,” Maggie said. “He sacked him once, he isn’t going to hand the team over to him.”

“Your father doesn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. If we don’t get the numbers in the vote, then Tom still needs to sell. And I can’t see too many other people stepping up to the plate to buy the Saints.”

“You three did.”

“Yeah, but we’re a little bit crazy.”

“You think he’ll want to move the team.” Maggie’s skin went cold. The Saints. Moving. To Texas? Or wherever the hell else Sutter thought he could get a good deal from a city who wanted a new sports franchise.

“Who knows? Maybe. It’s what I’d do if I had an oil conglomerate to manage.”

It’s what someone who really wanted to get back at the man who’d fired him would do, Maggie realized. Even worse than having to sell the team to someone he didn’t respect would be the knowledge that his legacy had been uprooted—even renamed—and taken out of his reach forever. That would kill her father.

“Well, we need to make sure we have the numbers, don’t we?” Maggie asked. “Sutter can’t simply outbid you. Not if Dad wants to sell to you. So we need to get out there.”

“We need him to help,” Alex said. “His support will carry a lot of weight with the other owners. There are a few teams who won’t be for us regardless … the Yankees and the Mets would be more than happy for there not to be another team in the city cutting into their TV and gate takings. I called Tom not long ago but there was no answer.”

“I’ll go talk to him,” Maggie offered.

“Thanks. But this is something that Mal and Lucas and I need to do.”

The quick rejection of her offer stung. A little too much. But there wasn’t time for emotion. They needed an action plan. Logic. “He’s my dad. He’ll listen to me.” The question was, would Alex?

He grimaced. “I appreciate the offer. And I’m not trying to cut you out. But this is about the deal. My deal. You can come with us when we do go see Tom but we’ll do the talking.” He stopped, paused, scrubbed his hands through his hair, making it spike up even more. “Shit. Sorry. This is not how I wanted this morning to be.” He leaned toward her, kissed her quick.

Quick was still enough to make her pulse bounce and her stomach tighten in pleased remembrance.

“I know we have things to talk about but I need to get to work. Lucas and Mal are coming to my apartment to talk about things and then we’ll try your dad again. I’ll call you once I have a better idea what’s going on.” He stood and looked around the room. “I really need to find my shirt.”

Maggie bit her lip, torn between anger and feeling helpless. She wasn’t the boss’s daughter anymore. And sleeping with Alex didn’t mean he was going to include her in anything he didn’t want to. That much was becoming clear.

“I could come with you, to your apartment. I could be useful.”

Alex shook his head. “I’ll need you later, I’m sure, but right now, I need Mal and Lucas.”

She fought down the stab of envy. She’d only known Alex for a few weeks. Mal and Lucas had been his friends for years. They were the inner circle. Not her. She hadn’t earned that yet. At work or elsewhere.

Damn.

She watched as Alex found his shirt and his shoes and jacket, dressing on autopilot, his eyes returning to the TV screen where the presenters were having a field day recapping the press conference. She listened as well but couldn’t concentrate. She wanted to make him stop. Make him see her for a moment. Make him let her help.

But she couldn’t think how, other than by doing something overly dramatic like bursting into tears. And there could be no tears, no matter how she felt. She’d slept with her boss. Which meant, when he was in boss mode, she needed to keep things strictly professional no matter how she felt about it.

This was exactly why office relationships were a bad idea. It was the worst of both worlds.

But she’d done it and she’d known what she was doing.

Now, as she watched Alex pull the door shut behind him as he walked away without even another kiss, she just had to work out how to live with it.

*   *   *

Thank God for coffee. Maggie swallowed down the remains of her second cup and eyed her iPhone as it vibrated on the counter. The number on the screen wasn’t one she recognized so she, like she had with the twenty or so calls she’d received in the forty-five minutes since Alex had left, let it go through to voice mail. Press, no doubt.

One call had been from Ollie but she hadn’t felt like dealing with him right now. She wasn’t ready to hear what the team felt about Sutter’s announcement; she was too busy working out how she felt about it. She’d replayed her conversation with Will at the game last night over and over, searching her memory for hints that she should’ve picked up. But no, nothing. Sutter wouldn’t have wanted to tip his hand. Not if he was doing this for revenge. He’d want her shell-shocked, like her dad. She hadn’t known him well but that seemed to fit.

Get his pound of flesh.

God. He couldn’t get the Saints.

Problem was, she could see that he might hold some appeal to the other teams’ owners. He had, on the face of it, better baseball credentials than Alex, Mal, and Lucas, and his pockets were just as deep. She’d done some quick Googling. The Sutter companies had taken a bit of a hit along with the rest of the economy, but the oil was standing them in good stead and, from what she could find on such short notice, it looked like his finances were doing just fine.

Which was more than she could say for her stomach.

It protested, curling greasily, as she forced down a piece of toast to avoid the caffeine shredding her stomach. Between not getting to talk to Alex about last night and now this, her nerves had turned to a mass of twisting, turning, acid-coated worms. Five minutes of scalding hot water blasting on her head in the shower hadn’t helped, and the coffee, though it had temporarily burned away her sleep-deprivation brain fog, definitely hadn’t eased her stomach.

The phone jiggled into life again. This time, Hana’s name flashed on the screen and Maggie reached for the phone. Alex had abandoned her and she needed to talk to someone.

“Maggie, where are you?” Hana said.

“At home.”

“Have you seen the news?”

“Yes.” There wasn’t much more to say.

“Brett is going nuts. The whole team is going nuts.”

“Good nuts or bad nuts?”

Hana paused. “Define good and bad.”

“Do they like Sutter or the terrible trio?”

“I don’t know. Brett likes Alex, I know that much.”

“Sutter’s a jerk. He’ll move the team.”

“He’s offering more money,” Hana said. “Ramona already called Brett and said Sutter would up his salary. A lot.”

Shit. Ramona. Maggie hadn’t even thought about Ramona. So that was what Sutter was doing cozying up to her. Trying to get some of the players on his side. Crap.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Brett put her on speakerphone. We’re talking a
lot
of money, Maggie.”

“Brett loves it here.”

“So do I. I do not want to end up living in Texas, Maggie. It’s way too hot. And full of cows.”

“Sutter lives in Dallas. I doubt there are many cows roaming the streets of Dallas.”

“I don’t care. I don’t like cows.”

“Well, it’s not up to the players. It’s up to the owners.” They’re the ones who have to vote for the deal.

“Yeah, well, the players will be interested if Sutter starts offering deals. And they will talk. I don’t know if the other team owners voting will care what the team thinks, but if they do, then you’ve got trouble,” Hana said. “You’ve got to stop this.”

“It’s hardly up to me.”

“You’ve gotta help the terrible trio then. They’ve got to lock in their votes. They need Saint Maggie to be on their team.”

She hadn’t been so saintly last night. She bit her lip again. Now wasn’t the time to spring that news on Hana. Nope, because Hana was right. Saint Maggie was needed and Saint Maggie wouldn’t be sleeping with her brand-new only-met-a-few-weeks-ago boss. There were some conservative types among the team owners. They might frown at that. Hell, they might frown at Alex for seducing her, even if they didn’t care about the fact that he was her boss and they’d only just met. Nope. This needed to be kept deep under the radar.

“Maggie? Are you there?”

“Yes. Sorry, thinking. Don’t worry, I’m on their team.”

“Sutter. Tom sacked him, yes?”

Hanapedia would remember that detail. Maggie couldn’t remember if Brett had already joined the Saints or not back when Sutter was involved. “Yes. He was a bit too ambitious for Dad’s liking. Kept overstepping the mark and then he screwed up a couple of things because of it. Is Brett talking with the other guys?”

“The phone hasn’t stopped ringing. I think they’re going to have a team meeting today.”

“Okay. Can you keep me posted on what happens … and let me know if anyone else is being offered deals?”

“They’re going to do their man thing and clam up.”

“Hana, you are the queen of sneaky and the queen of getting men to do what you want. I’m counting on you. The more we know the better.” Particularly if Alex didn’t have to go in and play hardball to get the info out of the players. They didn’t need any more tension than there was already going to be.

“Okay,” Hana said. She sighed, a tight, nervous sigh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks. Now, I have to go. Alex is going to call me when they go see Dad.”

“They’re getting Tom to help?” Hana sounded relieved.

“That’s the plan.”

“Good. He’ll know what to do.”

Maggie hoped so. She wasn’t so sure. Tom had cut his ties and wasn’t going to appreciate being dragged back into a mess. “Yes. He will. So keep me updated and I’ll call you when I can, okay?”

Chapter Fourteen

It was several hours before Alex called and asked Maggie to meet them at Tom’s. His voice was all business, the conversation short. She told herself not to read anything into the tone. Just as she made herself ignore his distracted greeting when they pulled up in front of Tom’s house at the same time.

Veronica answered the door, her blue eyes as cool as the silver wool suit she wore, as she invited them in. Maggie let the terrible trio go first, wanting a moment to make sure she had her business face on before she joined them.

Veronica caught her arm as she moved to follow Alex and the others. “I want to talk to you.”

Maggie shook her off. “We’re kind of busy right now.”

Veronica’s lips pressed together, thin and disapproving. “Don’t pull him back into this.” She flapped a hand in the direction the men had gone.

“No one pulls Dad into anything,” Maggie said.

“He’ll do it for you,” Veronica said. “And he’ll break his heart all over again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Letting go of the Saints has been hard on him. He doesn’t like to fail.”

“He didn’t fail,” Maggie said.

“Yes he did. In his eyes, anyway. But he’s been happier these last few weeks than I’ve seen him in a long time. He’s free. Don’t let them pull him back in. It’ll hurt him and he doesn’t need that.”

“Dad loves baseball.”

“He’s been killing himself for years with that stupid team,” Veronica hissed. “I know you don’t like me very much, Maggie, and I know in his eyes I’ll never be your mother, but I do love your father. And I want what’s best for him.”

“Isn’t he the best judge of that? You don’t like baseball, you don’t understand.”

“I understand that he’s nearly sixty-five and he’s been working seventy-hour weeks. He can’t do it forever. He needs a rest.”

Maggie’s conscience twinged. “Is he sick? He told me he was fine.”

Veronica shook her head. “He’s not sick exactly, but his last physical wasn’t the greatest thing ever. His cholesterol was sky-high. So was his blood pressure. Marcus Donahue told him to start cutting things down two years ago.”

“He never told me that.”

“He wouldn’t. He does all this for you, after all. He’s always done it all for you. Wanted you to be safe. Taken care of. Because your mother isn’t here to do it.”

“Mom’s death had nothing to do with Dad.”

“I know that. But I’m not sure he does. And he loves you more than anything else, regardless.”

Loved her but hadn’t backed her when it counted. “This will only be for a few weeks. After the vote is over, it will be decided one way or another.”

Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “He was just starting to relax. This will bring it all up again.”

“I’m sorry, Veronica. I know you love Dad. But if this deal falls through a lot of people he cares about are going to be hurt.”

“A bunch of overpaid athletes. They’ll survive.”

And that sentence pretty much summed up why Maggie didn’t like Veronica. Why she’d never understood what Tom saw in her. Veronica looked at the world through the filter of “what’s best for me.” She squared her shoulders. “The Saints are more than that. There are a whole lot of people who work for us, who depend on us. And they love the Saints. Besides,” she added, “the players could be a lot more overpaid if they went elsewhere. They stay because it means something to them. We owe it to them to try and make this work.”