Game Changer

by Stewart, Sylvie

  But she doesn’t look like a woman who’ll take no for an answer, and all my past experience only reaffirms it.

  I paste on a weak smile and go join her, sitting on my hands so I don’t start biting my nails.

  “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” She brings the floral-patterned cup to her lips. She’s not putting out her usual hyper vibe so the caffeine must not have kicked in yet.

  Come on, Bunny. Seriously? The weather? I hum my agreement while my smile struggles to stay put.

  “You know, I can’t tell you how lucky I am to have a boy like Bobby Lee for a son.”

  Here we go. “Yes, well, we’re all awfully fond of him.”

  “So many sons fly from the nest and never come back, but not my Bobby Lee.” She puts a hand to her ample bosom.

  It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. Instead, I glance toward the kitchen. Where is Cookie? Can’t she take over for me?

  “No, he loves his mama,” she continues, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “And not a secret out there he can keep from me.”

  I freeze in my seat. Well, shit. This is about to get messy, I can just tell.

  But she surprises me by abandoning the topic and starting on a new tangent.

  “You know, back in the day, I was quite the catch. I don’t like to brag, but there were some summers when I had a line of suitors going out the door and down my daddy’s front walk.” She smooths a hand over her giant hair and my smile threatens to crack—along with my sanity.

  “There was this one. A fellow by the name of Daniel. His family was from up north and used to summer down here. They were quite well-to-do and I must say my daddy was impressed with him. He had gumption, like my daddy used to say—aspirations in the shipping industry and, for a minute there, I admit I was charmed enough to consider him. A kind man—dashing too, with the loveliest pair of brown eyes.”

  My throat goes dry and, suddenly, I’m not in such a hurry to get off this sofa.

  She waves her free hand. “Oh, but he wanted to take me up to Boston and I just couldn’t leave Savannah. You know how firmly my roots are planted. We kept in touch over the years, though.” She tilts her head down and arches her eyebrows at me for a second. “Still do, in fact.”

  Holy shit.

  My vision narrows and my foot starts a beat on the floor while she calmly sips her coffee again.

  “I eventually met Vernon and never once regretted my choice, especially once God finally saw fit to bless us with Bobby Lee. But, as you know, keeping up relationships with old friends and family is important. And I dare say, Daniel Tenneson never did quite get over me.”

  I know my eyes are huge by this point.

  “He even told me as much when I was on the phone with him just the other night. Cheeky man.”

  Bunny wears a small smile until her eyes finally come to rest on my face and her expression turns soft and a bit sad. “Shame how his family has all but crumbled around him. But I reminded him it’s never too late when it comes to family—or setting things right.”

  Holy freakin’ plot twist, Batman.

  “Bunny?”

  She looks away again and takes a dainty sip of her coffee.

  “What did you do?”

  Thirty-Two

  “So long as you can look yourself in the mirror, you’re doin’ just fine.”

  – Cookie Rutledge

  “Not those!”

  “Yes, those!” I throw my red boots on top of the three other pairs I just shoved in my suitcase.

  “But I’ve been wearing them and they’re so comfy,” Iris whines.

  “They’ll still be so comfy in New York when they’re on my feet then.”

  “Greedy.”

  I hip check her on my way to grab more of my clothes.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t burned that suitcase by now.” Iris flips up the cover of the big black case to reveal the hideous confederate flag and I swat it out of her hand. The duct tape I used to cover the flag has all but come off but I can’t worry about that now.

  “Come on, you said you’d help me!” I need to catch the first flight back to New York and go find Mac.

  Bunny’s story is still swirling in my head, but I believe I have her to thank for Margaret Tennison-Pile’s arrest, as crazy as that may be! I need more details and I’m not getting them here in Savannah. Then I have to find a way to get rid of Elle once and for all and hold Mac’s hand while all the dust settles. Although, it sounds like his grandfather might be willing to help cushion the blow. I’ll have to wait and see.

  “Poppy!” Cookie’s voice comes up the old staircase.

  I turn to Iris who’s still eyeing my red boots. “Can you tell her I’ll be down in just a minute?”

  Iris hops off the bed and I can hear her feet pounding down the stairs. Then they’re pounding right back up again and she’s standing there panting in my doorway.

  “Poppy!”

  I shake my head at her. “What’s the matter?”

  “He’s here.” Her eyes are about to pop out of her damn head.

  When I just look at her like she’s crazy, she finally exclaims, “Mac! He’s downstairs sitting on Cookie’s settee looking like he’s about to bust the thing in two.”

  “What?!” I drop the stack of jeans from my hand and follow Iris as fast as my bare feet can take me. I skip the last two steps and I’m turning the corner to the parlor before I can even give the first thought as to what I’ll say to Mac.

  And there he is. His hair is a messy tangle like it hasn’t seen a comb in a year and his dark scruff has grown into almost a full-on beard in just two days. He’s stiff as a board where his fine ass is perched on Cookie’s early twentieth-century embroidered settee and when his eyes find me from across the room, I see an entire world looking back at me.

  I couldn’t stop my feet if I tried, and I have no desire to try. I all but launch myself at him, and thank God he stands before he catches me or that settee would be history and I’d never hear the end of it.

  Mac’s arms come around me and he’s crushing me to him, whispering words in my ear I can’t even make out because I’m so consumed with relief and happiness at seeing him and feeling him against me.

  I don’t even realize I’m crying until he pulls back and is wiping the tears away with his thumbs while his eyes travel every millimeter of my face.

  “You’re here,” I finally eek out through my tight throat.

  “I’m here,” he agrees. “And I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head as I make sure nothing else on his face has altered in the last few days. “It doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry too. I never meant—”

  He cuts me off, his thumbs coming to rest on my cheeks while his fingers gently hold my jaw. “I know. It was Elle.”

  I nod and then I can’t help myself. My lips are on his in a hard kiss, trying to tell him everything that needs to be said with just the press of my lips.

  A throat clears and I pull back, a goofy smile forming on my face. Mac raises that eyebrow and tucks me under his arm.

  “There are other people present, Poppy, if you haven’t noticed,” Cookie gently reprimands. “And the man just walked in the door. You can give him a moment before you attack him like a wild animal.” The words are disapproving but her tone hides a smile.

  Iris goes to stand beside Cookie. “Hey, Mac. Good to see you.” Her grin is way too naughty.

  “Iris,” Mac responds with a nod, but I can still feel his eyes on me.

  “All right, Iris. Let’s go fix some tea and give these two a few minutes of privacy.”

  Cookie marches Iris out of the room with both hands on her shoulders and I turn right back into Mac’s arms.

  “You met Cookie.” I, again, point out the obvious.

  He nods and responds in his familiar gravelly timbre, “Wasn’t sure if she was going to let me in at first.”

  I shrug and grin up at him. “She’s a tad protective.”

  “I’m glad,” he say
s, his tone turning serious. “I just wish you hadn’t needed protecting from me. I was an asshole.”

  I grip his arm. “No, you weren’t. You were hurt.”

  “Doesn’t excuse it. I’m sorry for what I said and I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

  “Elle made it hard. She takes evil to the next level.” I frown and Mac tries smoothing the lines in my forehead with a finger.

  “Well, she won’t be a problem anymore. In fact, I’m pretty sure her lawyer has forbidden her from talking to anyone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m suing her for breach of contract, among other things. Well, technically, Jonathan is suing her, but it’s all in my name.”

  “Seriously? Jonathan?”

  Mac nods. “He’s been onto her from the beginning, apparently. Turns out he doesn’t trust anybody—just like you said—luckily for me. Said he had a hell of a time holding you at bay while he tried catching her at her game.”

  “Oh. My. God.” I drop both arms from Mac as I let that settle. Then I pull back because I can’t concentrate when he’s touching me. He catches my hand in his, though, and doesn’t let me stray far.

  “I saw your mother got arrested. And her husband.”

  Mac takes a deep breath and lets it out with a disbelieving shake of his head. “Yeah.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure it’s sunk in yet.”

  “I’m glad your pops is finally going to get justice,” I venture, telling him the truth.

  “Me too. I guess I made peace a while back that it was never going to happen. I just went to live my life and keep my head down. Now that my grandfather has come forward as an eyewitness, I don’t know…” He shrugs.

  “Have you talked to him?” Bunny told me Dan Tennison intended to try mending fences and get to know his grandson, but I can’t see Mac just opening the door and letting him waltz right in.

  Mac shakes his head. “Not yet. He called. Left a message. Let me know he wasn’t going to protect my mother anymore.”

  I squeeze his hand, knowing there must be a lot of emotions in there and even more forgiveness to earn. But from the minute I talked to Bunny this morning I had a glimmer of hope that maybe Mac hadn’t lost all his family after all.

  “Are you gonna be okay with your name being in the papers?”

  He looks down at our joined hands, my normal-sized one in his giant Mac-sized one.

  “That depends. You gonna be with me?”

  My mouth turns up and I try to give him my best “you’re an idiot” look.

  His lips twitch in response. “Then, yeah, I’ll be okay.”

  “You guys are so stinkin’ cute!” Iris struts in the room without making a single noise of warning first. She’s got a tray of sweet tea and four glasses filled with ice.

  Cookie trails in after her with a plate of shortbread, her hair freshly primped, and a coat of her signature red lipstick. She’s not fooling me.

  “Everybody sit,” she orders and we all obey, this time Mac and I taking the sturdier sofa while Iris snatches a shortbread and drops on the settee. Cookie makes herself comfortable in a chair.

  She leans forward to pour the tea and Mac whispers in my ear.

  “She’s gonna make me drink that awful shit, isn’t she?”

  I hide my smile with a hand in front of my mouth, saving my lecture about the wonders of sweet tea for another time. “Allow me to introduce you to Southern manners, Mac. Just hold your nose and think of England.”

  I get a good glower at that and can’t help but snicker.

  Cookie ignores my noises and hands a full glass over to Mac who takes it with a thank you. Once she’s done passing the glasses, she settles back and focuses all her attention on Mac.

  “Now, Angus, tell me, what are your feelings on gluten?”

  Aaaand, we’re off.

  A half hour later, Mac’s tea glass sits on the tray still half full and Cookie has quizzed him on everything from his preference in biscuit toppings to whether or not the Braves will have a chance at next year’s World Series.

  He’s taken it all in stride in his quiet Mac way and I can see Cookie is a bit smitten, even if she doesn’t come right out and say it.

  Meanwhile, Iris has earned several annoyed looks from me and even a balled-up napkin to the forehead while Cookie went to replenish the shortbread.

  But that’s what she gets for not letting things go when Mac politely tells her for the third time that, no, he can’t make her her own Iron Throne.

  By the time we get another moment alone, it’s late afternoon and we escape the inn and its oversolicitous occupants for a walk. It’s so quiet compared to Manhattan, and I catch Mac turning a three-sixty more than once as he scans the nearly empty sidewalks surrounding us.

  I have to grab his arm a few times to warn him to duck so his head doesn’t brush the Spanish moss hanging from the oak trees. After the fourth time, I tell him he’s gonna get chiggers if he doesn’t watch himself, and he’s careful after that.

  We walk to Lafayette Square, one of the twenty-two beautiful town squares of Savannah, and stand in front of the ornate green fountain in its center.

  “This fountain was given to the city by the Colonial Dames of America to celebrate Savannah’s two-hundred-fiftieth anniversary,” I tell him, ever the responsible hometown tour guide.

  He steps around it, undoubtedly checking it out from his blacksmithing and design perspective. “Pretty.”

  “Mama applied to be a Dame but she got turned down when some truly scandalous behavior by my great-great-great-granddaddy was uncovered.” I shake my head in feigned disgrace.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Mac comes back to my side.

  I scrunch my nose and shrug. “We’re not exactly a squeaky-clean bunch.”

  “You’re happy here.”

  “I am, but I think it’s because I’m finally feeling like myself again.”

  “But you don’t in New York.”

  I twist my lips to the side as I think on it. “With you, I do. But I’ve got some serious rethinking to do as far as my professional persona.”

  “Ah.” He leans in and mock whispers. “The shark.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Know-it-all.”

  His lips twitch. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve been doing some rethinking too.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I lean in, mimicking his move. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that you voluntarily gave another interview?” I tease him about his comments on the website with Naveed.

  “You saw that, did you?”

  “I did.” I turn fully to him and put my hands on his pectorals before going on my tiptoes to drop a kiss on his cheek. My fingers flex over his shirt. God, he’s firm. I’d almost forgotten how built he is under those t-shirts. It makes me want to grab his ass to remind myself exactly how perfect it is.

  “Decided my pops would probably consider what I’ve been doing these past few years as hiding. And he was no coward.”

  “That’s the last word I’d use to describe you, Mac. Your pops would be proud of you.”

  He gives me one of those half-shrugs. “Maybe, but I can do more. Gonna get the smithing apprenticeship program back up and running.”

  “Really?” I go back on my heels.

  He nods absently and brings a thumb to my chin like he likes to do.

  “And how about you? What are you gonna do?”

  “Besides come back to New York with you?”

  His lips turn up at that and he rubs the spot on my chin like it’s his lucky charm.

  “I’m not sure.” I drop my eyes to the bricks at our feet. “I resigned from my job.”

  His thumb slides down so he can prop my chin back up and I have to look him in the face.

  “I’m sorry, Poppy. I wish you hadn’t done that. Not for me.”

  “I didn’t.” I shake my head. “Okay, I did, but that wasn’t all. I was going about it a
ll the wrong way.”

  “You lost yourself.” His raspy tone caresses me.

  “Didn’t I already warn you about being a know-it-all?”

  He grins and it’s a big one. It’s downright magical. I watch him as the mini parrots start chattering again, fighting over which one of them is gonna take him home. I tell them all to shut the hell up because Mac is mine, dammit, and that’s all there is to it.

  “Nobody ever asked me to be someone I’m not. I did that all on my own.” It’s time I remember I got that job in New York as a result of hard work, hours of dedication, and by trusting my gut these last ten years to put my best work forward.

  I deserve that job, and I shouldn’t be giving it away just like that.

  “When I think about it, the only one in that damn city I’ve been my true self around is you. I’ve been pretending to be some well-bred, designer-wearing, no-nonsense boss at work; I’ve been lying to one of my oldest friends; and, until a couple days ago, was avoiding a new one just so I wouldn’t have to lie.”

  “Sounds like you know what you need to do.”

  “Yup.” I smile up at him for another second and then a thought occurs to me. “Now I just have to figure out how to explain to everyone in my department why I suddenly have a Southern accent.”

  A rumbling laugh sounds from Mac’s chest and, after drinking in the wonderful things it does to his smile, I press myself to him in a hug so I can feel its warm, beautiful energy flow through my entire body.

  * * *

  The next afternoon, I walk through the art department toward the center of the room. I’ve got on my favorite boots and a matching dress Iris shoved at me when I was on the way out the door this morning with Mac.

  He slept in the green bedroom because, well, we were at Cookie’s and, even though she’s a smart lady who knows how the world works, it’s still her inn and her rules. If I snuck in to make out with Mac after midnight, that’ll be our secret to keep.

  Mama, Iris, Bunny, and Cookie all hugged us goodbye at the door before we took off for the airport with my ridiculous suitcase in tow. But before she let Mac go, Cookie took a good long minute holding his cheeks in her hands and checking him over before she nodded her head and said, “You’ll do nicely.”