Winning Streak (23 page)

“Middle drawer to the right of the oven.” Saralynn grabbed the quarts and dropped onto the sofa in her living room, setting Allie's ice cream on the coffee table while her sister retrieved utensils and the bag of marshmallows.

They ate in silence for a few minutes with the Home Shopping Network on mute, though Allie kept side-glancing. “You're really not gonna talk, huh?”

“I was getting around to it.” Not really. She'd have gone the whole night without saying a word, relying on a sugar coma to usher her into an emotionless abyss. But that's not how Allie operated.

“Are you sure things are over between you two?”

Saralynn shrugged. “I haven't heard from him since he left. How much more over could they be?”

“Have you called or texted him?”

“Why would I do that?”

Allie stared for a solid ten seconds. “You're right. I can't think of a single reason. Oh, except to find out if you're still in a relationship?”

“Hey. Easy on the snarkasm. Brokenhearted bunny rabbit over here.” She pointed to herself with the spoon and pulled out the quivering lower lip.

“Right. If bunny rabbits had piranha teeth and puma claws.”

She let her mouth fall open and faked offense but didn't put a lot of effort into it. Allie was right. She normally had a pretty thick skin, and she'd gone to work every day like nothing was wrong. It was every minute outside of the arena when the teeth and claws morphed into tears and empty ice cream cartons.

“Okay, so I'm not helpless. But I am hurting, and that's not something I'd admit unless I had to. My eating habits have rapidly declined, and my metabolism won't last forever. I can't take the chance it'll go away before this awful feeling does. If it ever does. Does it?” Her voice went up at the end with a rush of anxiety.

“Okay, calm down. The awful feeling does go away eventually, but yours will hang around until you know for sure that it's time to move on. And you can't do that unless you talk to Madden.”

“Is that really necessary? I don't want to be one of those clingy girls who can't take a hint. I mean, not a word in two weeks. I know what that means. I'm not gonna send a dozen texts he'll never answer or call when I know he won't pick up. That's pathetic.” Her stomach sank, and her chest felt like there was a vise around it, squeezing tighter and tighter.

“Oh, bunny rabbit. We're in the process of ingesting three days' worth of calories in one night. We're like a half-block away from pathetic as it is. But seriously. You need to talk to him.”

She leaned her head back against the couch and groaned. “Is talking your answer to everything?”

“You know I'm a therapist, right?” Allie opened the marshmallow bag and held it out.

Saralynn took a few and dropped them in her rocky road. “Fine. I'll call him tomorrow. What do I say?”

“Tell him you just want to see how he's doing. Ask what he's been up to. When he plans to come back to Vegas. Fair warning: men are not good with context clues. So then, I'm afraid, you'll have to ask what he wants for the two of you. If you want, I can come back and be here when you call.”

The thought of flaying herself open and more or less begging for him to pour salt in her wounds was worth reconsidering the ostrich approach.
What I don't know can't hurt me.
Except it could. It was. And the only way to escape it was a direct confrontation. Why did Allie always have to be right? “That's okay. I need to do it on my own. No promises that I won't come over the minute I hang up, though.”

“Our door is always open.”

She took a big spoonful of chocolate courage. “You know, you're really good at this. People should pay you for it or something.”

“People who aren't my baby sis-in-law?”

“Yeah, those people.” Saralynn smiled and flipped channels until she landed on a romantic comedy. Maybe she'd crashed and burned in her first relationship test drive, but Jennifer Aniston seemed to have it all figured out. Tomorrow she'd face the smoking wreckage. Tonight she'd eat her weight in sugar and borrow some of Allie's bravery.

Saturday, April 26th

It felt surreal pulling into the horseshoe drive. Two weeks seemed more like two years. Cleveland might as well be a separate planet. The weird part was, both places felt like home now. He parked and pulled out his phone, replaying the voicemail he'd heard twenty times in the past four days:

Mr. Vaughn, this is Ryan Keller. You had a very strong interview, and your credentials are impressive. We think you'd be a good fit at our firm. Call me back to finalize the details. Beep.

It would be a job. A normal job out of the media spotlight and scrutiny. Away from the tempting, neon pull of Vegas. Away from Saralynn. That thought stopped him just like it did every time he played the message. He hadn't talked to her since that last conversation in the elevator. Every time he'd picked up the phone and started to dial, his lack of answers stopped him. She would have had questions, hard ones, and he hadn't known what to say. He did now.

He owed her more than this. And the thought of leaving her for good kept him awake at night. But he needed to make a drastic change, and working at Keller's firm would accomplish that. He just couldn't get excited about a life without that frustrating, stubborn, beautiful, loyal woman in it.

Before he could get out of the car, Jacey pulled in behind him. Noon on the dot. Even pregnant and puking three hours a day, his sister was perfectly punctual. He hopped out and opened her door for her. “Hey, sis.” Her forehead was clammy when he kissed it, and he tried not to make a face. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“You said it was important.”

“It is. How 'bout we get out of the sun?” He gestured toward the double front doors and walked with a hand on her back. Surprisingly, she didn't bat him away and insist she was pregnant not an invalid. Either she needed the proximity or knew that he did. The living room might have been more comfortable, but they'd always had their heart-to-hearts in the kitchen, so he led the way and pulled out a stool for her before sitting on the edge of one himself.

“Well, you already quit, and I know
you're
not pregnant. What's the big news?” She met his eyes and appeared calm, but there was the slightest waver in her voice that he heard only because he'd become so attuned to it.

“I got a job at an accounting firm in Cleveland.”

The unshakable Jacquelyn Celia Phlynn, a woman with one of the best poker faces he'd ever seen, stared at him in absolute shock. Her eyes grew to the size of quarters, and she almost fell off the stool. “You what?”

“I'm not taking it.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “You couldn't have led with that? You want to give a pregnant woman a heart attack?”

“I was trying to build up to something, but you're right. I could have framed it better.”

“You're not moving back to Cleveland, are you? Maddie, if this is about what I said before, that's not how I feel. I was overwhelmed by how much my life was changing. I was afraid that you were falling into your old habits, and I panicked. But I know the truth now, and I should have known it all along.”

“It wasn't your fault. I understood where you were coming from. But that's not it. Honestly, I considered moving back, taking the job. At least I'm qualified for it.”

“Accounting isn't the only thing you're qualified for. You gave up stock trading for something more exciting when you moved here. You can't tell me you get goose bumps at the idea of living in a cloud-covered city and working at a random, bland firm where every day will be the same. You say you want to find your own way. I can already guarantee you that's not it. Isn't there something you really
want
to do? Something that would make you look forward to getting out of bed in the morning?”

“Hey, slow down. I'm
not
moving. I thought about all that, and … do you think it'd be crazy if I opened my own business?”

“I assume you don't mean the trampoline water park laser tag.”

“I was twelve when I came up with that idea. I still maintain it could have legs if managed properly. But no. I now know better than to ask for your thoughts on Wet and Wild Frontier Bounce Town.”

“Good. Because the liability alone—”

“Jace. I got it. You set me straight fifteen years ago with your dream-smashing graphs and pie charts. I'm serious. Would it be realistic to start a debt consulting business? It wouldn't just be that. I'd help people consolidate, set up budgets, offer day-to-day counseling, and help set them up for the future. And if gambling paid a part in their circumstances, who better to offer advice?”

The excited, confident expression on her face was a lot more encouraging than the patronizing one she'd given his preteen self. “Literally no one better. Maddie, I think that's a
great
idea. You have money for the start-up, and if you ever had to, you could always go back to straight accounting, but I don't think that'll be a problem.”

The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't wait to get started. “And Vegas would be the best place for something like this.”

“Absolutely. And not for nothing … ” She set a hand on her stomach. “Little Peanut here's going to need a fun uncle. Seeing as his mother lacks the gene.”

How many times had he told her, “You're no fun”? Probably more than she deserved. Though teasing, her sentiment made him beam from the inside out. “Aw, you're fun. The kid'll need someone to show him how to check out books from the library.”

She wrinkled her nose and kicked him in the shin just hard enough to sting. Then her gaze turned thoughtful. Uh-oh. Serious sisterly advice ahoy. “Have you talked to Saralynn? She asked about you.”

The murky regret returned, but it was accompanied by a mirage of hope. “She did?”

“I guess that answers my question. Of course she did. You two were … well, I don't know what you were, but it obviously meant a lot to both of you. I know in the past I've stayed out of your relationships except for Linden, and that one was against my will. But I like Saralynn. I like her for you. I've seen her do everything in her power to fight for you and look out for you even at risk to herself. She's a good one.”

“I know. She's why I can't leave.” Over and over Saralynn had proven she deserved his trust and honestly cared. Even when he didn't earn it.

“You should tell her that.”

Saturday Night

Apparently, heartsick felt the same as the flu. Saralynn pulled a blanket around her shoulders while shivering through a cold sweat. If this was love, maybe she'd had it right before. Keeping people at arm's length lowered the risk of anxiety-puking on your new Coach tennis shoes. She had to call him. She'd promised Allie. Pinkie swears aside, she had to know. If the only way to get past this horrible feeling and come out the other side was to trudge through it, then damn it, she'd trudge.

She wiped her palms on her jeans, tucked her legs up on the couch, and picked up her phone. She actually had to scroll through her call log. Not too long ago, he'd been right at the top.
No more wallowing thoughts
. Before she could come up with another reason to wait, she closed her eyes and pressed “Call.”

It rang once. Twice. Then someone knocked on her door. She shrieked and jumped, and her phone flew halfway across the room. A slow breath steadied her nerves just enough to answer the door. Madden stood on the other side, Sinatra crooning in his hip pocket. He gave her a half-smile and pulled out his phone, swiping his thumb across the screen to silence Frank.

“Hi.”

There was a response to that, right? There had to be. There was something simple she should say back, but her mind went totally blank. He looked incredible in the way that only he could. Designer denim that was most likely new but looked relaxed and lived-in. A faded T-shirt that hugged his torso. Clean-shaven with slightly rumpled strawberry blond hair that looked like he'd run his hands through it several times. His heady cologne almost pulled her closer with its tempting notes of ocean and citrus. Almost.

“Can I come in?”

She wanted to say no. She wanted to stay fuming and tell him off. But he was looking at her with those Madden eyes, so earnest and open. Ironically, it was when he turned off the charm that he was at his most charming. She still couldn't settle on a verbal response, but she stepped out of the way so he could get past her.

He stood just inside the living room, like he didn't feel entitled to go any farther, and she kind of agreed with that, but it hurt too much to hold the grudge. She resumed her spot on the sofa and gestured to the chair catty-corner to it.

Madden sat but leaned his forearms on his thighs, hands loosely folded. “I owe you a really big apology.”

“For what?”
That's it. Play it cool.
She'd had a lot of practice. Except that was with guys she honestly hadn't cared about. Playing it cool then hadn't been a strategy, just a state of being. Not so easy now.
Okay, forget cool. Just don't cry.

“What I
don't
owe you an apology for might be a shorter list. But for leaving like that. Not calling or texting. I left you hanging, and I'm sorry. That wasn't right or fair. I wanted to so many times, but I didn't know what to say. I pushed you away, and I didn't mean to do that.”

It's okay
wasn't a good reply because he'd just admitted that it wasn't okay. Still, she had to acknowledge the apology, so she bobbed her head. The subtle anxiety she'd been battling for two weeks started to subside, but it didn't vanish completely. He'd said he was sorry. He didn't say he still wanted to be with her.
Painful process. Happy ending.
Allie's words gave her the courage to finally say something. “I thought you might move back to Cleveland.”