The Wrong Mr. Darcy

by Evelyn Lozada

  Maybe she would eat first. A straight caffeine diet was not doing her any favors, even if Hara’s mother would beg to differ. Despite being closed out by Ms. Butler, and starving to death, she was excited about this chance to redeem herself, to really do something important. To prove she didn’t need her daddy to shape her world.

  * * *

  “Ms. Isari? We have a message for you. It was just dropped off,” said the clerk at the hotel’s front desk, catching her attention.

  Maybe it was Derek. A thrill went through her. She’d sent him a text hours ago, trying to sound casual, telling him where she was staying but with no pressure for him to get back to her.

  That’s what she’d written, anyway, but it was a lie. She did not feel casual. He hadn’t responded and it was making her stomach clench and her insecurities go into overdrive, mostly along the lines of who was she to think Derek Darcy was going to do anything more than get a piece of ass and then move on to the next woman? Hara had given him the freaking milk—he wasn’t going for the cow, especially not when he could easily get himself a unicorn.

  Breaking the seal on the heavy cream envelope bearing her name, she found a single sheet of paper.

  Ms. Isari,

  The organization paid your way to Boston and gave you an exclusive interview. I would appreciate your abeyance of our agreement and that you do not go outside the club. Mr. Butler’s family and friends wish to maintain their privacy. I’ve been informed the storm caused you to miss your return flight. Contact my assistant Madeline Bingley immediately if you are in need of a replacement airline ticket, or if my office can be of further service. Thank you for your respect and restraint in these matters.

  —C. O’Donnell

  Well, that was fast.

  How in the hell did Connor O’Donnell find out where she was staying? The only people she’d told in Boston were Derek and Naomi. Ms. Butler had obviously informed her son of Hara’s visit. Would the player be that put out over Hara talking to his mother? O’Donnell certainly was enflamed. Why would the owner care so much? And who was it that ratted out her location, Naomi or Derek?

  She didn’t feel very good. This was already going off the rails and she’d been investigating for maybe six hours.

  Her excitement waned. Abeyance. Who freakin’ says “abeyance”?

  * * *

  Derek stood in his bedroom, his nose buried in her bathrobe, inhaling her scent, wondering what he should do next. She’d texted where she was, but should he go? Or at least call?

  In the beginning, he’d had nothing but contempt for Hara, believing her to be an inept reporter and just another good-looking young woman in a push-up bra wanting to hook up with one of the big boys. Derek had no more faith in her being a good human than any other person he’d ever interacted with. But. But there was something about her that was different from other people. She was so much more. She was beautiful, obviously—a dusky-skinned goddess with translucent eyes and that long, silky hair he could run his fingers through all night. And her smell. Mmm. So heavenly. But it was her spark—her kind and charismatic soul—that made the blue of her eyes so piercing. Something deep in him had been triggered, a desire to be close to someone else. To let someone in. To be loved.

  He wasn’t thrilled she was a reporter; that for sure was confusing, knowing Hara’s job was to report on his every move. To judge and report.

  True, she had found out about Ms. Butler’s bad move and had agreed to not run a story. Not yet, anyway. He wasn’t 100 percent on trusting her, but … 80 percent? He really needed someone to talk to right now, about O’Donnell. Was 80 percent good enough?

  His doorbell rang, and then there was a loud banging. Someone was in his foyer, pummeling his front door. What the fuck? Was the doorman asleep at the switch?

  The security camera revealed his teammate pounding on the thick wood with one meaty hand, a case of beer in the other. Derek swung open the door and Charles stumbled in, drunk. It was only five in the afternoon.

  “The doorman just let you up here, without asking or even giving me a warning. That guy is so fired.”

  “Dude. He’s a fan. He’s seen me here before.” Charles swayed on his feet. “I brought beer.”

  They did need to talk. Beer was never a bad thing. “Do you want me to put those in the refrigerator?”

  “No. I plan on drinking them.”

  Derek helped himself to a bottle from the case, which only had a few left. Bad sign. They cracked their drinks open at the same time, gulping in unison. Finally, Derek swiped at his mouth, put down the bottle. “Bro, you got some explainin’ to do.” He sat down at the kitchen table.

  Charles hung his head, dropped into a chair. “I know.”

  “O’Donnell is losing it, man. He told me I had to lay off. To not play so hard.” Derek jumped back up and started pacing. “To feed you the ball and not take so many shots. He said you”—he jammed a finger in his teammate’s face—“started the convo, Charles. That you told him I was hurting the team.”

  Charles huffed. “That fuckin’ guy. Not me. He is the one trying to control you. Just like he’s controlling me. Even Naomi. Do you know what he did to her? I was stupid enough to tell him she was pregnant, thinking maybe he’d get off my back, feel sorry for me. Nope. He sent his bitch to take a bite outta my woman. Tried to make her have an abortion.”

  “How can he make her do that?”

  “He’s a straight-up bully. He had Madeline tell Naomi that her next stop was Tina’s house, to tell her about the affair. Then Madeline told her I’d be fined most of a year’s pay if the papers made a big deal out of this. Maybe kick me off the team. They got her set up with an appointment, even though she still hurtin’ from last night.” He clasped his head in his hands, turning in a slow circle. “I told Naomi to do it, it would solve everything, but you should have seen her face. I had to go and told her I wouldn’t be able to see her anymore, at least not until everything settled down, and the bitch threw a glass at my head.”

  Derek just stood quietly, listening, trying to process the craziness.

  “And that stupid reporter! She’s trying to find a story. First she’s sticking her nose in Naomi’s business, getting her all wound up—”

  “That’s not exactly what happened.” Derek sat back down.

  “—and then she went to Ma’s house! I was good to her, why she gotta play me? Little uppity thing, she don’t know who she messin’ with.”

  Derek’s heart dropped. Hara wasn’t dicking around. “You gonna give her a beatdown before she finds out about your mom, is that it?”

  “Me?! Hell no. O’Donnell is the one she’s gotta watch out for.” Charles slammed his bottle on the table, waved his hands around wildly. “Everything is shit.”

  “It’s only going to get worse if you don’t take care of things. And the consequences are bigger than you. You know that, right?”

  “What can I do about it? Turn Ma in? She still doesn’t get it. But only a few people know, and I’m just lookin’ at it like no harm, no foul, at this point. O’Donnell will chase the reporter off; he can’t afford to have her around.” He slumped. “Like I said, O’Donnell has turned everything to shit. He’s ruined my life. My woman. My game.”

  “Bit of a stretch, eh, Chuck?” Derek was done listening. “First of all, just tell Naomi she can do what she wants to do, and that you’ll support her. They aren’t going to fire you. How many guys in the last five years had girlfriends get pregnant—ten? More? Second of all, if it does become some crazy big story, you can pay the fine. You can afford it.” Derek leaned back and put his hands behind his head, trying to project calmness. “I mean, the man can’t ruin your game. You’re lit. You’re always lit.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Charles gulped down the rest of his beer. “Naomi won’t talk to me. She gonna do what she wants. Fine. So there’s all that.” His eyes were swimming as he leaned forward. “I never ask you for no favors, man, not even when we was kids and you was gettin’
dropped off by your chauffeur and I was ridin’ the bus for an hour.” Without making eye contact, he opened another beer. “My life would be a lot easier if you could just do what O’Donnell asks. Dial it back a little.”

  Derek tried to understand what he was hearing. “Dial back what—my game? Seriously? You did talk to him, then. Dude, I just don’t get it. I’m playin’ my balls off, but we are better together than apart.” Derek slammed his beer down on the table. “That’s how we’ve always been. You helped get me onto this team. You’re my friend. Why are you trying to get me kicked out now?”

  “No, no, no. My brother, I don’t want to lose you. I just want you—need you—to calm down, stop going for the gold on your own.”

  Derek was done with this shit. “You’re drunk. Go home.”

  “Listen. This isn’t about you. O’Donnell needs to see I’m in charge on the floor. Otherwise … well, otherwise I’m in trouble.” He put up his hand to ward off Derek’s baffled response. “No offense, but that’s all I can tell you. I need you to trust me.”

  “No offense, but how do I trust you? I did trust you, up until a few days ago. Then I find out you’re cheating on Tina and your mom took money and you didn’t do anything about it. And I just can’t get over that O’Donnell knew!” He spit out his words.

  Charles reeled back dramatically, as if Derek had slapped him. “Of course O’Donnell knows, he always knows. That guy is the devil.”

  “What are you talking about? He found out about the college money and he brought you onto the team anyway. He protected you.”

  “He didn’t do it to protect me. He did it so he can hold me hostage, so he can make money. I do what he says or he hurts Ma and takes away my contract. He’s so far up my ass I’m gonna be in the shit forever. Or I’m gonna be in jail.”

  “Jail! You are not making sense.”

  He swayed in his seat. “You ain’t makin’ sense.”

  “Nice.”

  They drank quietly for a minute. Derek stared at Charles across the table. His teammate, a guy he thought he knew.

  The man’s eyelids were drooping like those of a small child in a high chair, drunk on milk. Eventually, his eyes shut and stayed shut and he dropped his head back, snoring.

  Derek pried the beer from Charles’s hands, looking down at him ruefully. I’d think the big fella was cute if I wasn’t so pissed at him right now. He half walked, half dragged Charles back to his room and dumped him on the bed. Removed his sneakers and threw a blanket over him. His friend might be fucking up at life, but Derek couldn’t just kick him out. Not like this. Instead, he put a bottle of water and some aspirin next to the bed and left him to sleep it off.

  Derek’s phone rang. It was Hara. His heart thumped. Perfect timing. She might be wrong for him, but she was only here for a little while. Parts of her were very right.

  “Hey. I’m in your lobby,” she said in her naturally sultry voice. “Can I come up? I’m not a stalker, I promise. But I need to talk to you about O’Donnell.”

  CHAPTER 17

  They parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never meeting again.

  —Pride and Prejudice

  The doorman smiled at Hara as he put her on Derek’s elevator and pressed the appropriate button. “Mr. Darcy must be having a party tonight.”

  Before she could ask what he meant, the door closed. Her nose wrinkled; beer tinged the air. Stepping into Derek’s private foyer and knocking on his door, Hara prayed she wasn’t actually walking into a party. Oh God. What if he had a girl in there? She should have thought this out.

  She was close to backpedaling into the elevator when the door opened. A blast of male energy poured over her, a sexual heat emanating from the man in front of her. “Hi.”

  Hara ducked her head shyly. Studying the floor, she expected the soundtrack to Sixteen Candles to start playing. She hadn’t felt this awkward since middle school.

  “Hara?” He put a light finger under her chin, pulling her face up. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.” Her pulse raced. She could feel it in her throat. “Are you mad at me?”

  He put his hands on her hips and his face close to hers, his breath on her cheek. Derek’s lips hovered but did not touch. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

  Hara met his mouth hungrily, her tongue sliding across his. The passion they’d shared the night before had not been spent, merely banked, the hot embers jumping now to full flame. Both his hands went into her hair, holding the back of her head. She meshed against him but, after a second, forced some light between their bodies, her hands on his chest no longer caressing, now pressing him away, just a little. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi,” he replied, flashing his white teeth in an honest smile. “Glad to see you.”

  She grinned back. Derek Darcy really did like her. “You, too.”

  There was a loud snort from down the hall. From Derek’s bedroom. There was another snort, which then fell into a full-blown snore.

  She took a step back and cocked an eyebrow at Derek. Hara was fairly sure that was not a girl. “The doorman said you were having a party.”

  “That’s Charles.” Derek smirked. “He’s passed out. I put him on my bed.”

  She felt her face flush, relieved Derek hadn’t been with someone else. “Does Charles know that I know about his mom?”

  “Skipping the small talk, then.” He sighed, motioned her to follow him to the kitchen table, which held a number of empty beer bottles. “He knows that you went to see her, that you are at least looking for a story beyond your interview with him. He’s pretty mad. But the real problem is that I think Charles told O’Donnell about it. He’s the one I worry about. I should never have told you. I probably shouldn’t ask, it’s none of my business, but did she say anything?”

  “She didn’t talk to me.”

  “I don’t know about you digging into this story, Hara.”

  My friend, there’s only so many people who are going to make decisions for me. No matter how great you are in bed, you are not one of them. Nor is O’Donnell. She shuddered. She did not want to think about that creepy bastard in bed.

  “I told you,” she said, aloof. “I’ll research it, but I’m not going to print anything unless it’s substantial and corroborated. I’ve still got plenty of people to talk to.”

  “I know what you said. But I’m worried about you, at this point, as well as Charles. He said O’Donnell is involved. And he’s angry.”

  “Funny you should say that.” Hara took the letter from her pocket and gave it to him. “This came to my hotel.”

  As Derek read the letter, his face remained emotionless. But when he handed it back to Hara, his eyes were stormy. “Not tough to read between the lines here.”

  Hara, trying to remain emotionless herself and not come off as defensive, said, “Did you tell him where I’m staying?”

  “No!” he said quickly, then dropped his voice. “I saw O’Donnell this morning. He didn’t ask about you.”

  Naomi had to have told Charles, then. But why would Charles tell O’Donnell? Why did he care? She knew sports reporting would have its downfalls, but having guys actively working against her didn’t feel good. Then again, now that Charles knew she’d gone to his mom, he must think she was actively working against him. Hara guessed the goodwill was gone. She couldn’t be a reporter and be everyone’s friend.

  Derek continued, “I don’t like him, Hara. Maybe you should get some distance from the O’Donnells.”

  Her stomach twisted. Something else occurred to her. “You know what? I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to get you in trouble, too. They’ve already warned you away from me once, that night in their kitchen.”

  “I may be a rule follower, but I’m not going to be their lap dog. If O’Donnell was playing by the rules, he wouldn’t be worried about you. He certainly wouldn’t be chasing you away, or giving me lectures.”

  “He lectured you? What do you mean?”

/>   A grimace turned down his lips. “O’Donnell is going to bench me again unless I start being a ‘team player.’ He says my job is to feed the ball to Charles. That’s it.” He rubbed his forehead, like he had a headache. “You might be right. It might be best that you aren’t here. I can’t be talking to you about team business like this.”

  “You just said—”

  “I am an idiot.” He sighed. “And you are a reporter. I love Charles, I love my team, I want to be loyal. It’s a big deal to me that I prove myself this season. I don’t think you’re a bad person, but it is your job to uncover dirt and tell the world. You could conceivably ruin this season for my team.”

  Yep, she couldn’t be everyone’s friend. And this guy was all about himself. “I’m not a ‘gotcha’ reporter!” She stood up, fiercely holding back tears. “You know that!”

  “I’m just trying to get a handle on things, that’s all. Come on, I’ll give you a ride back to your hotel.”

  “No need.” She hated roller coasters, and this was the worst. Her pulse raced again, this time out of frustration and anxiety. And rejection.

  A cell phone rang, breaking the tension.

  It was on the kitchen island, next to Derek. “That’s Charles’s phone.” He peered at the screen. “Naomi is calling, should I answer it?”

  “Yes!”

  He pushed the button. “Hello?” He paused. “No, this is Derek Darcy.” Pause. “I know, this is his phone but he’s not available right now. Can I give him a message?” Another pause; this time he frowned. “You’re sure? Is there anything I can do?” He stared at Hara, concern etched on his face. “Okay, yes, I understand. I’ll tell him.” He hung up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That was Naomi’s father. I guess Naomi told him Charles was her boyfriend, and he thought Charles might want to know…” He cleared his throat. “Naomi miscarried. They’ve had to sedate her.”