“But, this isn’t ‘just anything’. This is an opportunity to honor the daughter of one of the town’s founding members as well as a Redemption philanthropist.” And, make up for something Rachel could never change.
“Rachel, Coach Hastings’s concerns are valid. Homecoming falls during the height of football season. We can’t authorize an event that will interfere with the football program.”
Rachel turned her attention to Logan. Coach Hastings. Of course. No wonder he was all puffed up over her request. If she wasn’t in fighting-mode, she might have smiled. That role suited him. But no smiles until she claimed victory.
She returned her attention to the council members.
They were each paired off, whispering and conferring. There was head shaking and frowning. She could almost feel Logan smirking behind her. Time to pull out her ace.
“Nana left money for Redemption. In her will.”
Seven heads shot up. They were silent and so was the man behind her. Rachel could feel the force of Logan’s gaze on her back. The skin at her nape actually tingled.
The president pushed his glasses up his nose.
“That’s right. As the executer of her will, I’m authorized to release these funds.”
The president coughed, adjusted his tie, and reached for his water glass. He took a sip of water and swallowed, then leaned over and conferred with the board member nearest him.
Rachel waited, watching the exchange, holding her breath.
At last the president said, “I think the council can probably accommodate this request.” He cast a glance to the other board members. His counterparts nodded and murmured assent. “Logan, what do you say?”
Rachel gaped at them. Why did they have to consult him?
“I say no way in hell! Preparing for this event and the event itself will interfere with practices and games. Not going to happen. My team and staff don’t need the distraction.”
Rachel turned her attention back to Logan, ready to appeal for her cause, and met Logan’s icy blue eyes. He’d probably stared down defensive lineman using that glare. Well, it wasn’t going to work on her. Her confidence was restored now that she had the board’s backing. Plus, she’d survived medical school, internship, and residency. She’d held her own against the toughest professors and even tougher attending physicians. Granted, none of them had been as big or as mouth-wateringly yummy as Logan. And she’d never had lustful thoughts for any of them.
Rachel drew in a steadying breath, bringing her back to the matter at hand.
There had to be a compromise. Something that allowed her to use the gymnasium and at Homecoming. She decided the compromise would have to be all Logan’s.
“What do you propose, Logan?” the president asked.
“That she use another place?”
“Impossible.” Rachel folded her arms across her chest.
“What about the rec center?” Logan suggested.
Rachel shook her head. “It has to be the high school. And, it has to be during Homecoming. That was Nana’s wish.” Because Nana was eccentric and, for her, once a homecoming queen, always a homecoming queen.
“What did your Nana have against the rec center?”
“Nothing. She liked the rec center.”
“Perfect. It’s settled then.”
“Nope. It has to be the high school. Non-negotiable.”
The president rapped the gavel.
Rachel held Logan’s gaze a moment longer. They were locked in battle. Goose flesh broke over her skin. In high school, if he knew she existed he’d never let on. Older and running with a different crowd their paths rarely crossed, but that hadn’t mattered. One glimpse of him during passing period or during practices and games would send tingly shivers along her nerve endings. And, it seemed her body still responded to him in a way that said, “It’d be okay if we got naked together.” She staunchly ignored her body’s traitorous response. Winning the board’s approval was all that mattered.
“Let’s see if we can find a solution that works for both parties.” The president cast a glance to his colleagues, who nodded but appeared to be enjoying the conflict. Maybe this skirmish was a meeting highlight. Maybe they’d vote in her favor simply because she’d brought a little entertainment to an otherwise uneventful discussion. She didn’t care how she got their votes, just that she got them. She was going to see to it this event happened, one way or another. No matter who she had to go through.
The president continued. “Logan, the board is leaning in favor of allowing this—”
Rachel beamed.
Logan growled.
“However, we fully recognize the imposition this may pose to the football team and to your staff.” The president cleared his throat. “But, the fact remains that Gloria Rose was a dear and valued member of our society, if not a little unconventional. And, as such, we are obligated—honored—to allow this tribute to take place. Rachel, we trust that you will take responsibility for all the planning.”
Rachel nodded. Her arm twitched to pump the air. She was so close! “Absolutely! I’ve already contacted a company—”
The older councilwoman raised a bony finger, capturing the president’s attention. The two of them put their gray heads together. Uh-oh. The president nodded. “Right, right. Yes. That makes sense.” Then he turned to Rachel, and she could tell by the way he didn’t quite meet her eyes that she wasn’t going to like what he said next. “No. I’m sorry. No outside company. If this is going to take place in our town and at our children’s school, we require the oversight by someone who knows Redemption. One of our own.”
The other council members nodded.
“I can assure you the company is reputable and professional.”
“We’re sure you can. But in this case, given the compromise and imposition for Coach Hastings, it would be better to have this handled by a local.”
Rachel gave an inward grown. She should have anticipated this. Redemption was a tight-knit community. Of course they’d want a local to handle this event. Okay. She could live with that.
“Rachel?”
“Yes?” She brought her head up. She’d been mentally cataloging who she still knew from Redemption that could successfully plan the event. With only two months left in her pediatric fellowship, she could only be in Redemption weekends and for the event itself.
“We’d like for you to personally oversee the planning, here in Redemption.”
“I’m sorry?” No way she heard that correctly. She couldn’t plan an event of this size, especially right now. She was a physician not an event planner.
“Yes,” the councilman continued. “It makes perfect sense. Rachel, you plan this event.”
Oh God. She had heard them correctly. How could she tell them she couldn’t and still have the event take place? By their faces, this was a done deal. The event could happen, but Rachel needed to be involved. Majorly involved. Exactly how she was going to be in two places at once, she had no idea. But she’d have to figure that out later. For now, she was inclined to agree to whatever conditions they had. She was so close to realizing her dream for Nana.
The councilman spoke again. “Logan, you will help, too. This way you’ll both have a say.”
Rachel’s head swung around to gape at Logan. He was, as she expected, not happy. His grim expression and the vein pulsing in his neck sort of gave that away. He shot daggers at her as if he helping had been her idea. Hah! As if.
Then he focused his glare at the board and said, “I don’t have time for that.”
His expression fairly shouted that he didn’t relish working with her. That makes two of us, buddy.
Rachel jumped in. “Really, Sir, Logan’s help isn’t necessary.”
The president ignored them both. He checked with the other board members who nodded. “Yes, appears the board is in agreement. Wonderful. Glad that’s settled.”
“Wait!”
“Hold up, Sir.”
“This isn’t going to work.”
“It’s settled then.” The president clapped his gavel on the table. “Meeting adjourned.”
Chapter 2
Logan’s fingers itched to plow into a punching bag, a defensive back, anything. How in the hell had a trip to a town council meeting in an attempt to up the support for the athletic department ended with him on a freaking planning committee for a tribute dinner that was going to screw with his football season?
He stood just outside the municipal building, frustration and disbelief coursing through his veins. And when in the hell had Rachel Delaney-Tolbert returned to Redemption?
She’d starred in most of his wet dreams since he’d hit puberty, even after the disastrous night that had changed his life forever.
He’d grown up on one side of the tracks and she the other. Her tracks had been lined with gold and privilege and fulfilled dreams. His had been anything but, more like ashtrays, beer bottles, and debris.
That was all past-tense. Ancient history. Dead and buried.
He was back in Redemption, making a home for himself. He had money. He’d had both respectable college and NFL careers, nothing to sneer at. People no longer stared at him with pity or sympathy just because he was the unfortunate offspring of Mean Gene Hastings.
He’d started coaching last year and they’d finished the season evenly split. This year would be different. He was going to lead his team to a winning season.
No matter what Miss High-and-Mighty-I-Have-All-The-Money had up her sleeves.
Come to think of it, her shirt hadn’t had any sleeves. Just her bare skin, tanned and smooth. She’d looked like she’d dug her clothes out of the dirty hamper and thrown them on, though.
Shit. No way was he going to plan this thing. It wasn’t going to happen.
He groaned in frustration, running his hand through his hair. It was just like growing up. People always listened to the ones with money. No matter if what they had to say wasn’t worth the time it took to say it.
Logan’s head dropped back on his shoulders and he stared at the cloudless sky. He’d stormed out of the meeting room, in search of fresh air and to get control of his temper. Now he needed to figure out what he was going to do.
Because for damn sure, this event was not taking place anywhere near the gym during football season.
The nearest exit door opened and Rachel walked out. Her long hair hung down her back, tied with a band. He’d often wondered what it’d be like to run his rough hands through her silky hair, feel it against his bare chest. There’d been a few times in high school when she’d been close enough for him to sample her sweet scent. But then she’d realize he was near and dart off . . .
A high-pitched electronic beep drew him out of the past to where Rachel stood a few feet away checking something on her phone.
Logan stepped toward her and her head snapped up.
He smiled inwardly at the way her eyes narrowed, her shoulders squared. “Well, look who’s back in town. Did living the high life get boring? Needed a little variety to spice things up?”
Rachel shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. He didn’t miss how her arms lifted her chest, which, thanks to whatever fate had soaked her blouse, left very little to the imagination. “Actually—”
“—I know your type, Rachel. Takes a lot of money to keep you happy.” He gazed pointedly at the shiny watch hanging loosely around her smooth wrist. He knew a Patek Philip when he saw one.
Rachel cast a glance at her watch. “I don’t think—”
Logan chuckled without humor. “No, I don’t suppose you do.”
A slow smile curved her lips. Somehow Logan sincerely doubted she was amused. He waited for her to speak. This ought to be good.
“Yes, of course. Us “rich girls” are always on the prowl for the next thing to satisfy our lust for haute couture. I was just passing through Redemption, three hours outside of Denver, to do a little shopping.” She cast a look to her feet. “Oh you know a girl can never have too many Jimmy Choos. And, of course, every girl needs this season’s Fendi.” She twisted slightly showing him her shoulder bag.
Okay, so she’d lost him at haute, which he was pretty sure wasn’t the same hot he was used to. He crossed his arms, leaning back on his heels. “Takes a princess to know one.”
“Well, Logan, since you have it all figured out, guess there’s not much more to be said.” She made a show of checking her watch, then turned and strode away from him.
He watched her long, slender legs eat up the pavement. The woman had a body, no doubt about it. Curvy, made to make men salivate, and she acted like she had no clue. But he knew better.
She climbed into a blue Volvo, something far more understated than he would have pegged her for, and drove out of the parking lot.
Well, hell. That conversation hadn’t gone well.
Rachel drove with shaky hands directly to Fancy Pants, her best friend’s clothing boutique. After the town council meeting and the ensuing run-in with Logan, she needed a friendly face, a sounding board, and a place to catch her breath. It wasn’t every day you had a face-to-face conversation with someone who seemed to literally hate your guts. While she hadn’t gotten along with everyone she’d ever met, the majority of them liked her just fine.
Rachel parked along the street, then bolted up the sidewalk and into the store.
Instead of a normal ding-dong chime, or even a real bell above the door, a melodious quartet of horns and strings filled the air.
“Jeez, Molly!” Rachel said over the resounding orchestra, her hand over her heart. “That’s quite a welcome.”
Molly sat at the counter, her bare legs crossed at the knee, a lime green heeled sandal dangling from one foot. The black halter top tunic dress she wore stylishly showcasing her best assets.
Molly’s short black hair skimmed her jaw as she shook her head. “Please tell me you didn’t wear that to see the town council?”
Rachel groaned. “It’s a long story. But yes. Although, it honestly didn’t start out like this.”
Molly raised a brow. Well, not everyone could have the fashion sense that Molly did. Some of the mortals made bad fashion decisions. Like linen in this late summer heat.
“So, tell me. How’d the meeting go? Did they say yes?”
Rachel slumped onto the stool opposite Molly and dropped her head onto her folded arms. “They agreed.”
“And this is a bad thing . . .?”
“They put me in charge of planning the event.”
“Really? That’s great news!”
“No. It’s not.” Rachel raised her head off her arms. “I know nothing about planning an event like this. Besides, this is the end of my fellowship. I can’t be away from the clinic for the entire month. I’ll have to drive back and forth.”
“So, okay, you’ll be logging some miles on your car. But, still, they said yes. That’s huge! Your Nana is smiling from above, hon. This is exactly what she wanted. What? Oh no, there’s something else, isn’t there?”
Rachel’s head dropped back onto her arms. “Logan Hastings.”
“Logan? The Logan?”
Rachel’s head snapped up. “He’s not the Logan.”
Of course Molly, like everyone else in town, probably thought he was God’s gift. Not everyone was privy to the jerky-side of Logan like Rachel. No, somehow she’d scored that honor all on her own. He’d been a jerk today. Evidently, adulthood hadn’t changed him. “But, yes, that Logan.”
“What does he have to do with this? Oh, wait . . . oh. . . it’s using the gym, isn’t it?”
Rachel dropped her head back onto her arms. “Yes.” Then she propped her heavy head on her fist and said, “Coach Hastings was at the meeting—God only knows why—and he had plenty to say about the event. He flat out opposed it. Loudly. Openly. He even cussed.”
“At the board?” Molly gaped.
“Well, he said ‘hell’.”
Molly laughed. “I don’t thi
nk that counts. Not in
Redemption. That’s just plain old talking, hon. You should know that. Just because you have to watch your mouth around your little patients doesn’t mean everyone else does.”
“Well, whatever, he was seriously opposed.” And, pissed. Rachel told Molly about his reservations which led to the icing on the cake. “So then the president of the board said, not only do I need to plan this event—something about wanting a local, which is crazy—I don’t even live here anymore—but, since Logan was so worried about his precious gym and football program, he should work with me. That way he’ll have a say in the planning.”
Molly’s face split into a wide grin.
Rachel scowled.
Molly pressed her lips together.
“I don’t see any humor in this at all.” Rachel groaned. “This is a disaster.”
“Why? He’s like royalty in Redemption. Former high school football star, former NFL star. And, the guy is gorgeous. Seriously, beautiful. Like Tom Brady-hot.”
Molly was right. Logan was famous stuff in Redemption.
And, yeah, he maybe sort of resembled Tom Brady or Ryan Reynolds.
“Why don’t you have the planning hired out?”
“Can’t. I offered that. They said I had to do it myself. Well, with Logan’s help.” Her head fell back onto her arms.
“Well,” Molly said, rising from her stool, “at least you’re going to look great in the black dress I sold you.”
When Rachel had told Molly about her idea to salute Nana, Molly hadn’t any doubt the board would go for it. She’d insisted on selling her a dress for the event. “Only if I lose ten pounds.” Rachel had been too busy with work lately to get in her daily runs. With work stress and losing Nana, she’d been medicating her anxiety with chocolate. Maybe a little too much chocolate.
Molly waved a hand at her. “Please. You’re beautiful. Curves on you work. They’re sexy.”
“Soft.”
“Hush. Do you think Scarlett Johansson’s agent tells her she needs to lose ten pounds?”
“I’m hardly Scarlett Johansson.”
Rachel's Redemption Page 2