No such luck. Raymond stood on the other side.
Raymond glanced at his ankle. "I just saw Andy. He said you had a setback today. That's disappointing. When you first got hurt, I was hoping you would be healed enough to give a great stunt performance at the All-Star game, but I can see that won't be happening."
Liam let his injured foot rest lightly on the floor. "It's only a minor sprain, Ray. Probably only sets me back by a week. Training has been going really well. I'll be able to pick up where I left off." He had no idea if that was true, but he'd say whatever he needed to convince Ray.
"I hope that's all it is. We can only do the current set-up with Fin and Fiona for so long. We don't want the fans to tire of the bit."
Tire of it? Ray was crazy. The fans loved it. "I don't think they're tiring of it. The weekly videos are doing well. Attendance is up for those games because people want to see the next episode of Fin and Fiona before it airs on the web. It's exactly what you hoped would happen."
"Even so, we'll need to see a more mobile Fin out there soon. Andy said you might be ready by mid-August. If not, we'll need to discuss our options."
Liam's blood burned and his heart sank at the veiled threat. If he couldn't do the job, they'd find someone else who could. Or, they'd only keep Claire, either as Fiona, or as a smaller version of Fin. He wasn't sure how their relationship would change if he lost his job to her. Could he handle it, or would resentment build and fester like an infected wound?
As if Ray could read his mind, he asked, "Where is Claire?"
"On her way in. We're filming the videos that will be playing during All-Star weekend."
Ray arched a brow at Liam's crutches and bandaged ankle. "Sure you're up to that?"
"No problem at all. You know I'm always about putting the job first." Despite the throbbing pain. "Going back to my recovery, I've been doing great and progressing well with the therapy three times a week, and at home, I'm doing the stretches and exercises three times a day. I'll be ready before mid-August, Ray. You can count on it."
"All right, Liam. Keep me posted." With a brief wave, Ray walked away.
Liam locked the door, then leaned against it, surveying the room. He couldn't lose this. Not to Claire. Not to anyone.
CLAIRE
CLAIRE PLACED THE TWO pregnancy tests on the bathroom sink and then set the timer in her phone. She walked through her apartment, picking up and setting down books and pillows and rearranging the roses that Liam had given her a few days earlier.
Her period was never late.
Never.
Yet, over a week had passed and she still hadn't gotten it. And maybe the past few days of vomiting wasn't due to a stomach bug.
She couldn't be pregnant. Maybe stress was making her period late. Maybe the stomach virus had thrown her body off.
When she'd suggested that to Savanna, her friend had gently suggested she take a test, just to see.
A series of beeps rang from her phone.
Her heart rate ratcheted faster. The moment of truth. She silenced the alarm and shoved her phone into her pocket. Mouth gone dry, she peered at the results.
Two pink lines on the first test. The word pregnant across the display on the second test she'd bought for confirmation.
Her blood froze and her heart struggled to beat. All her muscles turned limp and she began to tremble. She sank onto the toilet lid and covered her face with her hands.
No. No. No. Not now. Not yet.
After being the caregiver for so many years, for keeping her sisters in line and out of harm's way, she deserved a chance to be just Claire.
In an instant, she felt her recently acquired freedom slip away and resentment slid in once more. She and Liam had always been careful and always used a condom, so how had this happened?
Of course, she wanted to have kids someday, but after she'd finally had some time to herself. Caring for her sisters had been hard enough. The heavy weight of responsibility would triple with her own child.
Life wasn't fair and she wasn't ready.
Her phone rang, vibrating in her pocket and jolting her off her feet. She scrabbled for it. Lauren's number. Calling again. If she'd hurt herself again...
She'd better answer.
"What's up?"
"Can you drive me to gymnastics? I need to be there in an hour."
Huffing a sigh, she dragged her hands over her face. So not what she needed right now. "Fine. But be ready to leave when I arrive. I have to go to work right after that and can't be late."
Great. Just great.
She swept the tests into the trash.
Queasiness interfered with her concentration on the road. When she pulled up in front of the family home, she blinked at the number of cars in the driveway—Amanda's Escalade, Jen's Jeep, Krissy's Fiat, Ginger's Corvette, and Dad's Range Rover.
Lauren dashed out the front door with her gym bag thrown over her shoulder and a bright smile on her face. She tugged the passenger door open. "Hi."
"Hold up. Why did you call me? Everyone is home."
Her sister shrugged. "What's the big deal? When you lived here, you used to drive me all the time."
Damn it. Annoyance sizzling through her muscles, Claire squeezed the steering wheel. "Yeah. When I lived here. I don't anymore. I haven't for a few months. You have five people who are capable of driving you. There was no reason to call me."
"We should get going. Coach doesn't like it when we're late." Lauren climbed into the seat and turned on the radio.
Claire switched it off. "Does everyone else know that you called me?"
"Not Dad. He's still asleep. He got home pretty late last night."
"Did you ask the others to drive you before calling me?"
"They were arguing about who was supposed to do it, so I said I'd call you and they stopped."
Claire turned off the engine. "Let's go. We're having a family meeting."
"But I'm gonna be late."
"Too damn bad." She slammed her door shut and stalked up the path. No freaking way would she let herself be walked on any longer.
Her sisters were sprawled across the living room and kitchen. The rooms were a mess once again. Claire strode to the center of the living room as the front door slammed.
Lauren bolted past her, shoving into the kitchen. She dropped her bag onto the floor, seething. "Someone better drive me to the gym."
Krissy raised her gaze from her phone. "I thought Claire was doing it."
"I'm not doing it." Rolling her eyes, Claire turned to address all of her sisters. "She shouldn't have called me and you shouldn't have let her. You're all sitting around here. There's no reason one of you can't drive her."
Amanda and Jen opened their mouths, but Claire cut them off with a wave of her hand. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but before I moved out we all had a talk about how you guys would have to work together to handle chores and schedules and driving Lauren around. In the three months that I've been gone, you've called me a ton of times asking for my help with things that I later learned you all could have and should have handled. I don't expect you to track chores and schedules the way I did, but you have to do better than this."
Stony silence settled over the rooms. Five glares met her. Then Amanda stood. "We don't need you lecturing us. You're not our mother."
She stiffened. Justified heat bloomed from her chest and raced to the ends of every limb. Amanda was right. She wasn't their mother and trying to fill that hole stopped right now. "I've always tried to make up for Mom not being here, but you're right, I'm not her. You guys want to live in chaos, fighting, casting blame and shirking responsibilities, so go ahead. But from now on, don't call me unless one of you is bleeding, and even then, only if you can't get a hold of each other or Dad."
She let herself out of the house, blinking away tears as she hurried to her car.
Halfway to the ballpark, her stomach heaved once, twice, again. Oh, no. Claire jerked the car into a shopping center parking
lot and thrust her door open just in time to avoid creating a mess in her car.
Wiping her hand across her mouth, she sagged against the seat. She'd better do some research on handling morning sickness.
Her phone pinged with a text alert. She lifted it slowly, steeling herself for a message from one of her sisters. Liam's name, instead, made her smile.
Liam: Hope you're feeling better today. If you're not, just call. We can film the video later this week. See you soon.
He thought she had a stomach bug. In all the drama with her sisters, she hadn't thought past the shock of the pregnancy to the fact that it affected him too.
She hadn't a clue how to tell him the news when she could barely believe it herself.
CLAIRE WANDERED THROUGH the crowd of All-Star fans at the ballpark. Hot dogs, nachos, and fried foods scented the air and kept her in a permanent state of nausea. In the week since she'd learned of the pregnancy, working every night at the park, being bombarded by those scents, had taken its toll. Throwing up three to five times a day wasn't any fun and the home remedies for morning sickness weren't working. She needed to call her doctor.
She ducked through the door leading to the quiet inner hallways and breathed in deep to expel the offending odors from her nose and lungs.
Raymond had asked her to stop by his office after she'd completed her hour of posing for pictures with the fans. Perhaps he'd realized that she'd scaled back her on-field routine this week. She hadn't had a choice. Cartwheels and flips were difficult when her body was exhausted and drained and queasy all the time. She needed to get her nausea under control, otherwise she might not be able to perform the stunts at all.
But she couldn't share the real reason with him. Not when Liam didn't know yet.
Between his upset over the setback of the sprained ankle, the preparations for the All-Star game, and their increased appearances for the influx of press, media, and fans, she hadn't found the right time to tell him. She couldn't exactly blurt out "hey, we're having a baby" the same way she'd tell him that they needed to head to the field.
She stopped in her office, striped off her costume, and left a message for her doctor. On her way to Ray's office, she sipped a can of ginger ale Liam had found at a specialty store. He thought she still had a stomach bug.
They needed to talk. After tonight's game, they had two days off. She'd find a way to tell him tomorrow.
She stopped in front of Ray's open door and he waved her in. "Claire, have a seat. If you don't mind, please close the door behind you."
If Ray mentioned her lackluster performances, she'd blame the stomach bug. The scent of his cologne wasn't doing anything to help her nausea. Hopefully, the meeting would be quick.
He offered her a warm smile. "We're very pleased with your performance so far, and the fans love you."
Oh, good. Her tightened stomach eased. "Thanks, Ray. I'm really enjoying being here."
"You were hired as a temporary employee but we'd like to make you a permanent part of the talent roster. And raise your salary to be more commensurate with your popularity and level of success."
"Wow. That's great. Thank you." Tears threatened to form and she bit the inside of her cheek until the urge passed. Crazy hormones. If her doctor was right about her due date, she'd deliver in mid-February. She might have to miss part of Spring Training, but she'd work it out then.
"That brings me to the other reason I wanted to talk to you. We want a fully functioning mascot team. Does your old gymnastics coach have any students that are close to Liam's height and build?"
"I don't know. Why?" Her stomach sank as the reason for his question sank in.
"We can only play the Fin and Fiona videos and have Fin riding around in a golf cart for so long. The fans want to see Fin doing the flips and stunts. We need him back."
"Liam said he should be ready before mid-August."
"If so, that's great, but that's a month away and he's not even back at physical therapy yet. I can't wait until the last minute to replace him again, so I'm beginning to look for a potential candidate now. I'd appreciate if you can ask your coach to keep an eye out for someone along his size. The costumes set us back about ten grand so I'd like to keep using Liam's as long as I can."
"If Liam loses this job, it'll crush him."
"Claire, I don't feel happy about this either, but I need to look at the bottom line." Ray shuffled papers on his desk and avoided eye contact. "If we can't find anyone else, we could try the guy who took part in the audition who was close to Liam's build. You said you used to coach gymnastics. Maybe you could work with him on his mechanics."
"I..." She stalled. Oh no. No way. She didn't want any parts in any plans to replace Liam. "He looked like a total beginner. Expecting him to reach Liam's level of capability in a manner of days or weeks isn't reasonable."
"But you are willing to help train him if we can't find someone more suitable?" He looked at her expectantly.
Feeling every bit the traitor, without a choice she nodded. Her stomach quivered, only this time it wasn't morning sickness. "I'll help."
"Excellent. We highly value employees who are committed to helping the organization. Let me know what your coach says. I'll check in with that prospect. I'll need you involved in making the selection."
If Liam lost his job as Fin and learned she had a hand in it—they'd be through. Her heart would break. And her baby would grow up in a broken home. Just like her. Totally unacceptable. She squeezed her hands together, ready to plead for him. "But, you won't actually give anyone the job of Fin as long as Liam is able to come back in a month?"
"Right. I have a progress meeting scheduled with Andy and Liam on August eighteenth. If Liam is good to go, we'll continue with him as Fin. If he's not, then the new Fin will take the field at the next home game the following week."
A bout of nausea hit out of nowhere. Claire quickly rose and shook Ray's hand, again promising to help, and then bolted out of the room and to the nearest restroom.
If she didn't help out, Ray might choose to replace her too. After all, there were several gymnasts of her size and now, Ray knew who to contact.
If she couldn't get a handle on her nausea, they could let her go for not being able to perform the duties she'd been hired to do. They were ready to replace Liam and he'd been there for years. They would have even less loyalty to her, as new as she was. If she lost this job, she wouldn’t be able to handle a full-time gymnastics gig as her pregnancy progressed. And even if she landed an office job, she’d feel guilty about taking maternity leave only a few months after starting. What if she had to move home? Return to her selfish sisters and all their whining.
It was best to go along and do whatever Ray wanted her to do. She couldn't let anything jeopardize her position. Not now. Not when she wasn't the only one depending on her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SLADE
SLADE WOKE UP TO EARLY afternoon sunlight streaming in the bedroom window and a note from Savanna propped against a bottle of water.
Drink me. Rehydrate. xo, Savanna.
Not a bad idea after a long night out celebrating his All-Star appearance. He rolled out of bed, stretched his muscles, and turned on the TV. The baseball channel played highlights from the previous night's All-Star game. He pulled on clothes and chugged the bottle, automatically critiquing himself when his image and stats flashed onto the screen.
He'd more than made up for his abysmal performance in front of his parents. During the Home Run Derby, he'd launched ball after ball into the stands, winning the event, and had scored two runs in the All-Star game, helping his team to a win. James and Tiffany had been in the stands for both events.
Savanna had too. And even though she'd stayed out late with Liam and Dom and him, she'd had to get up early for work. He grabbed his phone to text her a thanks for the water and found one from Dom, checking in and making plans for dinner, and one from Tiffany, asking if he could meet her later at her home.
He f
ired off responses, sent the text to Savanna, and wandered into the kitchen.
Liam sat at the counter, devouring half of a huge submarine sandwich. Mouth full, he raised his brows at Slade and pushed over the other half.
"Thanks." Slade popped a coffee pod into the single-cup brewer and then tugged the plate closer.
"Dom sent a text. Dinner tonight." Liam waved his phone in the air. "I'm meeting with Andy soon so he can check my ankle. If he pronounces it healed, I'll get cleared to return to PT. I think he will. It doesn't hurt anymore."
"I'll buy the first round tonight to celebrate." Grinning at his friend, Slade twisted to grab his coffee. "Tiffany wants me to stop by this afternoon."
"Did she say why?"
He shook his head and bit into his sandwich. Maybe his bio mom wanted to chat because they hadn't had a chance to talk after the game. Or maybe she was trying to start a ritual, an afternoon coffee visit much like Savanna's Sunday lunches with her parents. That was fine with him.
Maybe he needed to start one with Liam. With both of them in relationships, they didn't spend as much one-on-one time as before, and he missed his buddy. Kicking back, he enjoyed his breakfast with Liam and the easy friendship that had been a constant in his life for so long.
After Liam left for his appointment, Slade headed out. The weather was gorgeous, so he opted for the Harley.
He was riding high when he knocked on Tiffany's door, ready to spend some time with her.
When she answered the door, he could see the tension in her pale face. Shoulders hunched and wringing her hands, she led him to the sun room. "Thanks for coming over."
"Sure. Is anyone else home?"
"James took the kids to the beach. I told him I wanted to do this alone."
Slade lowered himself onto a small wooden chair. She looked too tense. "So..."
Tiffany sat on the middle couch cushion. Close but not too close. She pressed her lips together and then let out a low, slow breath. "There's something I need to tell you. I've wrestled with whether I should, but I feel guilty, and I don't want there to be any secrets between us. Because if it ever did come out, I want you to hear it from me."
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