In direct contradiction to her poised answers, her unease grew by the minute. Anxiety radiated off her in waves. One thumbnail picked at the cuticles of her other hand, and every couple minutes her foot bobbed a few times, then halted.
Finally, he picked up her resume. Her foot twitched again. He read through it as if this were the first time seeing the damning evidence. Anger and disappointment fought for equal footing, but disappointment won. He didn’t really have a right to the anger anyway—she’d done nothing to him.
Except make you like her.
No. That was his own fault for opening up at Christmas and letting her see a part of him not even Janelle knew about. Lisa had simply offered soothing, silent understanding that crept into his conscious and refused to leave him alone.
He listened to the muted tick of his watch for one minute more. When he looked up, she stared at him, an expression of calm smoothed across her face, her foot still once more. “I can explain.”
He flipped to the last page of her resume and sat back in his chair. Unjustified though it may be, his anger rose again. “I think this does a pretty good job of that already.”
Her lips thinned at his sarcasm.
“What happened to all that stuff you talked about at the wedding?” he demanded. “Was it all lies?”
“No.” She shifted in her chair. “I did most of it. Just not recently, and…I exaggerated my job descriptions a little.”
He tossed her resume back on his desk. “Why? What the hell happened after you graduated college—with honors, if I remember the buzz correctly.”
“Nothing happened.”
He waited.
Her gaze slid to his but didn’t hold. She sighed. “Everything was going as planned, I worked my way up the political ladder, until…ah, until the candidate on my last campaign insisted we redefine my job using the Monica Lewinsky definition of intern.”
Derek’s entire body tensed at the scenario insisted implied. “Did he hurt you?”
She laughed, a brittle sound with no humor. “No. I broke his nose and then I quit.”
His brows rose in disbelief, but she kept talking.
“Only problem is, politics is a small world. Word got around—my word against his. Since I couldn’t prove anything, no one would hire me after that, so I was kinda stuck with whatever job I could find. And then, I wasn’t so sure I wanted back in anyway.” She glanced at her resume and attempted a grin that ended up crooked. “I’m still looking for something else I like.”
“I see that.” She’d held seven less than impressive jobs in the past three years. “Why didn’t you come home?”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “Me, living and working in Pulaski. How would that have looked?”
There’s the Lisa he remembered from high school. Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Lisa. Tell me, how does it look?”
The foot in her mouth didn’t appear to taste very good. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s fine for you, but—”
Her abrupt silence only magnified the unspoken words in the air between them. Derek sat forward again. “Go ahead. Keep digging.”
Lisa stood. “You know what, forget it. Obviously, I’m not going to get the job, so I won’t waste any more of your time.” She turned for the door.
“Running away works for you, doesn’t it?”
A quick spin brought her back around. When she slammed a hand on his desk, Derek flinched before he could control the reaction. Lisa fisted her resume in her hand, straightened, and swept from the room.
He caught up to her by the administrative offices. One glance at the interested gazes trained on them through the glass windows, and he silently accompanied her outside into a gentle snowfall. The cold air wove through the fabric of his dress shirt as Lisa kept walking.
“Wait.”
She lifted her chin and ignored him. Derek moved in front of her and scooted backwards, hands held out in front of him. “Come on, Lisa, please. I’m sorry. That was a low blow.”
Finally she slowed, then stopped. Her gray eyes locked on his. “You pushed me all through high school. That first time I beat you and brought home an A, my parents were thrilled.”
Derek frowned, not sure where this was going.
“Not because of you—they didn’t know about any of that, but they were happy because I’d actually taken an interest in my grades. Do you know I almost had to repeat eighth grade?”
“You?”
“The only class I wasn’t failing was gym. My parents got me a tutor for the summer and I barely squeaked by.”
She was serious. “Wow,” Derek said. “I never would’ve guessed that in a million years.”
“Anyway, that one taste of success became addictive. The more you tried to shove past me, the harder I worked to stay ahead, and the happier my parents became. They were so proud. Before I knew it, I’d created a monster, and I couldn’t fail.”
“You were pretty intense back then.”
“No, I mean failure was not an option, and then add the pressure of not disappointing them. In college, I didn’t have you, but I’d conditioned myself enough that it didn’t matter. I graduated fully prepared to take on the world.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, partly to ward of the winter chill and partly because something still didn’t add up. “So why come back now?” Her gaze slipped again. He dipped his chin, willing her to look him in the eye. “What’s different now compared to three years ago when that slime bag blackballed you?”
Her jaw tightened and her eyes grew bright. “I have nothing left—no job, no money—nothing. Are you happy now? I had to quit my last damn job just to come home for Mark and Janelle’s wedding.” She reached up a hand to swipe at one cheek. “The real world is not quite so enamored with has-been high school superstars.”
That last defeated sentence triggered a flood of understanding. He shifted and stuffed his hands in his pockets. She felt she’d failed.
Fire flared in her eyes, magnified by the moisture still pooled along her bottom lashes. She stepped forward and hit him in the chest. “Don’t.”
“Ow. What?”
“You know what,” she growled and stalked past him. Over her shoulder, she warned, “And if you even think about giving me the job because you feel sorry for me, I’ll hurt you.”
He rubbed his chest. Some disappointment lingered, but more for her than in her. Now he understood her reasons for the half-truths. She could’ve fudged her resume, padded it like her stories, instead she’d been brutally honest to her own detriment. Amazing how he’d learned more about her in one day than in all four years they’d been rivals.
Her vehicle took a couple tries to start and Derek could tell it needed work. Sounded like the alternator. And she needed a new muffler. Had she replaced the bald tires?
The tires spun in the snow before catching enough to inch the car from its parking spot. His fists and jaw clenched with the obvious answer. Stupid little prideful fool was going to get herself killed.
****
After lunch the next day, Derek eased his Chevy to a stop alongside a tow truck backed up to a familiar maroon four-door parked on East Pulaski Street. He flipped on his flashers so other cars would drive around and rolled down the passenger side window. “Hey, Chad, how’s it going?”
Chad Hansen glanced up through the falling snowflakes and gave a quick grin before concentrating back on his job. “Hey, Derek. I could complain about all this snow we’ve been getting lately, but the truth is, it’s good for business.”
“I bet. How’re Rebecca and the baby doing?”
“Rebecca’s good, but Amy’s got us both operating on a lot less sleep these days. Other than that, things are great. What about you—anything new?”
“Not really.”
The mention of Chad’s two-week old baby reminded Derek of how much fun he’d had playing with Eric and Marissa’s twins on Christmas day. Standing in their living room, gazing up at Evan’s dr
ooling, one-tooth smile, the fleeting wonder of what it would be like to hold his own child in his arms had startled his heartbeat into an unsteady rhythm. From the corner of his eye he’d caught Lisa’s smile toward him and the baby, and the pounding catapulted into overdrive.
His hands gripped the steering wheel. For crying out loud, he’d kissed the woman once under the mistletoe. Even a brief flash-thought of having babies with her was one hell of a colossal leap.
A wry smile tugged at his mouth, and he rubbed his chest. He could tell her exactly what he’d thought and never have to worry about it again. She’d deck him first and ask questions later—if she ever came back again.
Chad flipped the lever to raise the car’s front end off the ground and Derek gave himself a mental shake. He had other things to concentrate on besides Lisa Riley—like raising the most money and winning their competition.
“There is one thing new,” Derek said to Chad. “I’m fundraising for Janelle’s animal rescue—”
Chad held up a hand, his smile apologetic as he secured the vehicle for its ride. “You’re about fifteen minutes too late, buddy, I already donated to the lodge. Sorry.”
“Let me guess, Lisa Riley?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I recognize the car. Is she finally getting some new tires put on?”
“No, the alternator’s shot. I’m just towing it out to her dad’s place.” Chad bent to inspect the wheel closest to him. “Oh, yeah, with these tires I could be talking to her again before the end of the week.”
“She didn’t say anything about replacing them?”
“Nope.”
An idea formed in Derek’s mind as Chad glanced at his watch. “Listen, Rebecca’s parents are coming for dinner tonight, and I want to get home early in case I get any calls later. You’ll be at the New Year’s bash, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you there.” Derek drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, then leaned across the seat toward the open window. “Hey—hold up. You got time to take the car to the garage first and put on a new set of tires?”
Halfway into the driver’s seat, Chad turned and frowned back at him. “I can’t do something like that without her permission.”
“She’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”
“Right. Problem is, I’m not replacing a ten dollar set of windshield wipers.”
“I’ll cover ‘em. In fact, since it’s on your way home, throw a new alternator and a muffler in the back seat and tow it to my house after you’ve got the tires done.” Derek could help her out and do those repairs for free, but the main thing was, a day or two without her car would give him an advantage in the fundraising drive.
“You’re serious?”
He nodded.
A wide grin spread across Chad’s face. “Ah, I get it. Someone’s looking to be very much appreciated.”
“Shut up, man, it’s not like that.”
“Whatever you say. Have fun.”
Warmth spread up Derek’s neck into his face and he was thankful for the shadows in his truck. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Hansen.”
Chad’s chuckle cut off when he slammed the tow truck door, but he was still smiling as Derek pulled away. On the drive back to school, he realized his protest had been too strong. Then again, who cared what Chad thought? If hijacking her car helped him win the fundraiser challenge against Lisa, he had no problem dealing with Chad’s misconceptions later. A voice inside scoffed, yeah, sure, it’s all about the fundraiser.
By the end of the afternoon, Lisa still ruled his thoughts, but it had nothing to do with her car or the fundraiser. He’d conducted his last interview for the coaching job right after lunch and made his decision. While Lisa was adequately qualified, this last applicant had the necessary experience should Katherine Collett decide to confirm rumors she wouldn’t return after her surgery.
Much as he wanted to give Lisa the job, he had to make a professional decision based on what would be best for the team and the school. Only now he had to explain that to Lisa. It made sense, he knew, but when he practiced the words out loud, they ended up sounding like excuses. Knowing she needed the job made it even worse.
When his grandpa showed up after the boys’ basketball practice and suggested a game of one on one, Derek jumped at the chance for a physical outlet to release his tension. He spent the next hour getting his butt beat by a sixty-three year old man.
Butch slipped by and lined up another shot. Swish. “Come on, son, wake up!”
“Sorry, Grandpa, my mind’s not really in the game.”
“Ya don’t say.” Butch dribbled the ball in front of Derek, switching from one hand to the other with practiced ease. He flicked a glance beyond Derek, smiled, then bent low as if preparing to make a play. “What’s got yer head in the clouds?”
“It’s not—”
“Derek Walsh.”
Derek spun around and received a basketball right in the gut. “Oof!” He made a reflex grab for the ball. Half doubled over, he stared at Lisa’s furious expression. Shit. Somehow she’d found out she hadn’t gotten the job before he could call her—
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
He straightened carefully, holding the ball in front of him for protection. “Let me explain—”
Her glare threatened to cut him in half. “I don’t want your explanation, and I certainly don’t want your damn tires!”
This was about her car? Damn. That meant he still had to tell her about the job.
“I am not some charity case in need of your donations.”
This time a virtual hard ball smacked him upside the head. Of course! After telling him not to give her the job out of pity, he should’ve realized she’d go through the roof when she found out about her car.
“It had nothing to do with charity.”
“Save it. You had no right to do what you did without asking me first. I want my car back and my old tires!”
He lowered the ball a few inches. “For someone as smart as you, driving around on snow and ice with bald tires is just plain stupid.”
Her fists clenched at her sides. “Bite me.”
The taunt hung between them. Her unflinching gaze dared him to follow through with the threat he’d made at the wedding. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do a darn thing with his grandpa watching, and she knew it.
Butch cleared his throat. “I’m gonna get goin’ home fer supper. Good game, Derek—better luck next time.”
Derek gave Lisa a predatory smile. “Night, Grandpa.”
“G’night, Ms. Riley.”
She glanced toward his grandpa, and Derek loved the fact that her smile wobbled.
“Good night, Mr. Walsh.”
Accompanied by a merry little whistle, Butch’s footsteps squeaked across the floor, paused when he picked up his gym bag, and continued to the door. Derek bounced the ball back and forth much like his grandpa had, staring Lisa down the entire time, remembering the mistletoe kiss.
The moment the door clicked shut, he caught the ball in both hands. “The tires are to keep you safe, nothing else.”
Liar, his conscience whispered. But some truth in his spoken words resonated in his chest. Her safety was at the heart of this, and his thoughts concerning the fundraising challenge had been a convenient way to camouflage his concern and justify his actions.
Lisa snorted in disbelief. “Cut the crap—as if you care so much.”
“Aw, but I do,” he joked to hide his unsettling revelation. “Without you around, I have no one to drive me crazy.”
Her eyes narrowed a split second before she snatched the ball from his grasp. Dodging left, she took a shot but didn’t wait to see if she’d made it before facing him. “I am not—” swish “—keeping the tires.”
“Not even as a loan?”
“Nope.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll buy my own when I’ve saved enough money. Which reminds me—any word on the job yet?”
Shit. H
is gaze slid to where the ball came to a rest against the bleachers. “I was going to call you…”
“I didn’t get the job.”
The disappointment in her voice made it difficult to force his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry, but we needed someone with experience. Katherine’s been talking about retiring, and—”
“You don’t have to explain your decision to me. From the players’ side, believe me, I understand. No big deal—it was a long shot anyway.” A hard swallow contradicted the careless statement, but she faced him head on. “I don’t want your pity or your charity, not even in the form of a loan. I can take care of myself.”
Good for her, but no way he’d return the old tires. He’d rather have her pissed off and safe, than hurt and her pride intact. He brushed past to retrieve the basketball. “You’re a stubborn fool.”
He bent to pick up the ball and heard her footsteps head for the opposite doors leading to the parking lot. Her desire to prove she could handle things on her own would be admirable if the way she went about it wasn’t so…stupid.
His splayed fingers tightened on the basketball when inspiration struck. “I’ll play you for them.”
When she looked back, he aimed and shot from beyond the three point line. Her gaze followed the ball all the way through the net before returning to Derek. Ah hah—he had her attention.
“Why would I play you for tires I don’t want?” she asked.
“You win, I’ll have Chad put your old ones back on. I win, you keep the new ones.” He scooped up the ball and walked toward her. A quick pass caught her slightly off guard. “No skin off my back—unless you don’t think you can beat me, Big Shot.”
She balanced the ball against her side, between her hip and forearm. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Then shut me up.” Palms up, he crooked his fingers and grinned. “Come on, baby, show me what you got.”
She rolled her eyes again, but this time a reluctant laugh escaped. “Oh, God, stop.”
Hands on his hips, he advanced on her. “Alright, then, let me put it to you this way—you play…or I bite.” He won that one either way.
Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3) Page 5