The Real Deal

by Debbi Rawlins

  “Good, glad to hear it.” Tom motioned to the waitress for a coffee refill. “It’s not just his loss of salary, but the endorsements will shrivel up, and then where will he be?” Tom gave a self-deprecating snort that didn’t fool Emily or, she was certain, anyone else who’d paid attention. “Listen to me go on. Of course I don’t have to tell you all this.”

  Nick smiled with cool self-possession. “Don’t worry about Billy. He’s made a lot of money and invested well enough that his future security isn’t an issue. He’ll be living the high life ’til the day he dies.”

  Tom’s smug expression faltered. “That was very wise.”

  “Good for him,” Leslie said. “I hope he recovers quickly. And I hope our food is coming soon. I’m starving.”

  Emily let out a slow breath, but she was still seething. She knew Nick would say nothing more for the sake of keeping the peace. His mother and Leslie both looked relieved to see the waitress appear with the coffeepot. Silence fell as the woman refilled each cup and then promised to bring more hot chocolate for the kids.

  “What is it that you do, Emily?” Patrick Corrigan asked when the waitress left, and Emily couldn’t tell if he was purposely redirecting the conversation, or simply being politely curious.

  Emily told them, although she didn’t go into much detail. She was still a bit shaken from the previous conversation.

  Tom leaned back in his chair to look over his glasses at her. “Interesting,” he said. “That must necessitate some research.”

  “Best part of the job.”

  “What sort of degree does the position require?”

  Emily shrugged. “I don’t know that it does require one.”

  “Really? So you didn’t have to go to college?”

  “No, I didn’t have to go, but I did.”

  He smiled as if she were a recalcitrant child. “And your degree was in…?”

  “Linguistics, English lit, political science.” She smiled. “My mother was afraid I’d be a perpetual student with enormous student loans. Luckily, I had scholarships and finished my undergraduate studies in five years. And you? You’re a teacher, right?”

  He stared back at her, a slight frown of outrage drawing his brows together. “I’m a professor.”

  “Hey, I didn’t know you got promoted,” Nick said with a convincing sincerity she somehow doubted to be real. “Congratulations.”

  “Well, no, technically I’m still an associate professor,” Tom murmured, coloring slightly.

  “And what do you teach?” Emily asked.

  “Art history.”

  “Ah.” She took a considering sip of her fresh coffee, and then asked sweetly, “So if that fell apart and you aren’t tenured, I guess a job as a museum curator or docent would be your backup?”

  His lips parted in disbelief, the appalled expression on his face forcing her to look away or burst out laughing. Her eyes met Nick’s, which didn’t help because he was trying to hold back, too. Her gaze ended up on Ann’s blank face, and shame instantly filled Emily. She’d been an ass. This was Nick’s family, and he didn’t need her fighting his battles, anyway. So much for taking the high road.

  Then Ann gave her a private wink, and said, “Oh, good, here comes our food. I’m famished.”

  AFTER BRUNCH AND fifteen minutes of Ryan and Kevin begging Nick to stay another day, Tom took the boys to get in line for snowboarding, while Ann, Leslie and Lily walked Emily and Nick to the car.

  It was a tearful goodbye for Ann, and even his sister sniffed a few times, but they were able to get on the road by twelve-thirty. Neither woman seemed upset with Emily, for which she’d be eternally grateful. Nick, on the other hand, remained subdued as they drove out of the parking lot, making Emily wish with all her heart that she had kept her big mouth shut.

  About two miles down the highway, he said, “Why so quiet?”

  “I was waiting for you to tell me what a jerk I am and to mind my own business.”

  He seemed puzzled at first. “You mean Tom? Nah, he deserved it. I know I said he wasn’t that bad, but as long as we’re talking turkey, I never did understand what Leslie saw in him. I think my parents feel the same way, but they’d never say anything.”

  “Oh, but I know everyone for a whole twenty seconds, and I say plenty.”

  Smiling, he reached over to stroke her thigh. “It was nice that you defended me. He knows I’m touchy about dropping out of college and he goes right for the jugular every time.”

  “Because he’s jealous.” She frowned, then studied his profile as he concentrated on the road. No question he wanted the subject dropped, judging by the firm set of his jaw and the way his mouth had pulled into a thin line. “So you’ve decided to go see Billy.”

  That didn’t help. If he’d tensed before, now he seemed drained, as if she’d just zapped all his energy. But she knew he was still bothered by the brunch conversation. After their talk yesterday, he’d seemed to feel better, so if she could lend an ear…

  “We don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want,” she said, leaning over to massage the back of his neck.

  “Uh, that feels too good, and I didn’t have enough sleep.” He moved his head, evading her touch.

  “Ah, right, maybe I should drive.”

  “No, I’m okay.”

  She folded her hands in her lap, a sudden unidentifiable fear squeezing her heart. Silly, because he wasn’t pulling away from her. He had a perfectly reasonable explanation for not wanting to be touched.

  She let silence lapse for a few minutes, then suggested, “Maybe in a couple of hours, after we get away from the ski areas, we could look for another inn and spend the night. Neither one of us should be driving while we’re tired.”

  “No way. I want to get back to the city and sleep in my own bed tonight.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Anyway, what makes you think we’d get enough sleep?”

  At his suggestive tone, her pulse raced and her heart fluttered. More than anything, though, she was relieved. He wasn’t angry, and he wasn’t trying to push her away. “Good point. I can’t believe I have only two days left. Technically, one and a half.”

  He frowned. “What time is your flight on Sunday?”

  “Two-thirty. I probably ought to get to the airport by noon.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  She hated herself for wanting more reaction, any sign that he’d be sorry to see her go. But she had no right to expect anything from him. Understanding that truth didn’t ease the lump that lodged in her throat. She wondered if he’d even take the time to go with her to the airport. Or simply stick her in the Town Car or a cab.

  God, this was crazy. She could not start projecting and ruin the time they had left. She wouldn’t. No way. Not her style. She was stronger and prouder than to silently whimper and cower and wilt with yearning. She had no illusions that he’d broken a few hearts, and that there had been tears and maybe even some tantrums, but she seriously doubted he’d ever made promises that he hadn’t intended to keep. That wasn’t his style.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked finally.

  “Dinner.”

  Chuckling, he briefly looked over at her. “You just ate.”

  “I know, but I only have two more dinners in Manhattan and I want to make them count.” She gritted her teeth. It sounded as if she were baiting him by driving in the reminder she’d be gone soon. Which, to her horror, she realized was exactly what she was doing.

  “True,” he said thoughtfully, though clearly unmoved. “We’ll have to really think about where we want to go.”

  As if she’d have any appetite, she thought wryly. She stared ahead at the road, trying to think of something clever, or at least neutral, to say, but not a damn thing came to mind.

  For the rest of the drive, they listened to music, reminisced a bit about holiday traditions when they were kids, but he never mentioned Billy again, and that bothered her.

  Insecurities seeped back into her consciou
sness. Deep down she had the sick feeling that she’d somehow crossed the line, and when she left to go home, she had no doubt she’d spend countless days, maybe even weeks, replaying this trip to Vermont in her head. Plenty of time for self-recrimination then. For now, she had to keep it together, stay cool and never let him see that she’d foolishly allowed herself to care too much. That she’d become no better than hundreds of groupies pining away for him.

  That last idea disgusted her to the tips of her toes. But she couldn’t seem to do a damn thing about it.

  16

  EMILY ROLLED OVER and, without opening her eyes, knew that she was alone in Nick’s bed. She reached across to his side, noticed that the sheets were cool, and a feeling of betrayal needled her. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw her suitcase. Last night he had lifted it onto his dresser so she could pack this morning. A thoughtful gesture, she reminded herself. It wasn’t that he was anxious for her to leave, right? They’d had a wonderful day yesterday, making the most of every minute. So where was he?

  “Hey.” He came through the door holding a tray, wearing no shirt, only a pair of drawstring brown pajama pants he favored. “I wanted to get back before you woke up.” He sat on the edge of the bed on her side, awkwardly trying to balance the tray with one hand and plumping one of her pillows against the headboard.

  She eyed the croissants, orange marmalade and whipped butter as he set the tray on the nightstand. What really got to her was the single rose he’d placed in a small water glass. “Up early and energetic. A girl might think you were anxious to get rid of her.”

  He hesitated, avoiding her gaze long enough for her to regret her words. “The phone woke me,” he said. “I’m glad it didn’t disturb you.” He met her eyes. “It was Billy.”

  She breathed in slowly. “Everything all right?”

  Nick nodded. “He sounded even better than when I talked to him just after Thanksgiving.”

  Nick studied her for a moment, and then hung his head and stared at the hand he’d splayed on the sheet. “See that scar?”

  She found the thin white line near his thumb, about an inch long, yet barely visible. “It looks old.”

  “I cut myself about nine years ago. The knife went deep and nicked a tendon. I hadn’t been playing in the majors for very long, and I was devastated. Even though I did everything the doctors told me to do, I couldn’t throw a ball or hold a bat for the longest time. I was convinced my career was over.”

  “Yet here you are.”

  He snorted. “Yep, I was lucky. Billy won’t be. He doesn’t believe that, though.”

  “But you do?”

  “He was torn up pretty badly. It’s going to be a long and painful process just to get him walking. If he plays again, it probably won’t be for the majors.”

  “Is that what you’re going to tell him?” she asked, her insides quivering at the sight of Nick’s suddenly lifeless eyes, his face pale from internalizing his friend’s emotional pain.

  “No,” Nick replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “Hell, who knows, maybe he’ll beat all the odds. But I’m going there as his friend, not his teammate. We’ll talk.”

  She folded a hand around his cold one, pleased that he didn’t draw back from her.

  “He’s a real family man, with lots of relatives who spent Thanksgiving at their home so he had company over the holidays. He’s got two great kids that he adores. Liz, his wife, has always been a churchgoing woman and they have a lot of support. This morning he sounded calm about the whole thing.” With a helpless shrug, he added, “But I should have been there, too. I’ve dragged my feet long enough.”

  He darted her an embarrassed look that gave her the distinct impression he wished he hadn’t said that out loud.

  In that instant, so much about the last six days made sense to Emily. Something she should have realized on the drive to Vermont. Even from that first night. She’d been a distraction for him. The absolute perfect distraction. She had nothing whatsoever to do with his world. With her, he could forget about baseball and Billy and very likely any fears he suffered about his own career. By not having a famous model or actress on his arm, he’d even been able to avoid the media. No wonder he’d been hesitant to discuss Billy.

  A dark cloud of hurt descended on Emily. Yet she had no right to feel anything but pleased. All she’d been seeking was a brief vacation fling and she’d hit the veritable jackpot. She would’ve been okay with a good-looking pizza delivery guy. Because it was never supposed to be about anything but no-strings sex. How dare she change the rules at the end of the game?

  Even if she could change things, it wouldn’t matter. She couldn’t change herself. This week had been a fabulous adventure, but to be part of his life? She couldn’t see it. Fans, mobs, crowds, photographers. Not only would she be incredibly uncomfortable, but she also knew full well that he would forever be apologizing, making concessions, cheating his fans and himself to accommodate her. Sweet, yes, but so unfair. Nick was in his prime, and he deserved his place in the sun.

  She cleared her throat, horribly afraid her voice might give her away. She could lecture herself until the cows came home but it wouldn’t change one stupid thing. In a few hours, she’d say goodbye to him and it would hurt like hell and there was no rationalization that would spare her. “You know, I’d better start packing,” she said, and scooted back to the other edge of the bed. “How long is the ride to the airport?”

  His gaze followed her movements, his expression one of confusion. “It’s still early.”

  “I know, but I’d rather be ready and not running around at the last minute wondering what I’ve forgotten.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly, the word drawn out as if he didn’t believe the reason for her sudden burst of energy. “Can I help?”

  “No, not really.”

  “You sure?” He stretched out on the bed, gave her that totally unfair sexy smile and patted the mattress beside him. “The sooner you’re done, the more time we’ll have left for extracurricular activities.”

  “You dog.”

  He laughed and clasped his hands behind his head. “Not the reaction I was looking for.”

  Nevertheless, he’d gotten her attention. She quickly gathered up the trinkets she’d bought for her mom, sisters and nieces, and tried shoving them in the outside zippered portion of the suitcase. Only the pocket was too full. Funny, she didn’t remember putting anything in there. She pulled out the one bag she’d managed to stuff inside and saw the box of condoms. She recalled then, at the hotel, when she’d packed before the Vermont trip in order to check out.

  She casually withdrew the box, aware that he was still watching her. “Guess I won’t be needing these back home,” she said, forcing a laugh that came out high and tinny. “You might as well keep them. I’m sure you’ll put them to good use.”

  What an idiot she was. She hoped she didn’t sound as pathetic to him as she did to herself. She waited, imploring him with her gaze to say something to ease her discomfort. He could make a joke, lie, she didn’t care. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know there would be more women for him.

  His answer was to settle his head more comfortably on his arms and close his eyes.

  HE SHOULD’VE KNOWN IT would be a problem dating someone like Emily. She wasn’t the type to have a casual affair. What did she expect him to say? There had been no promises made. None should have been expected, that was for sure. He thought they’d been clear on that.

  After all, she was the one who bought the damn condoms. Bought the damn pink book and damn sexy lingerie. She’d admitted that she’d come to New York for some action, to dabble in some anonymous sex, no harm, no foul. Well, she got what she wanted.

  Shit.

  He abruptly sat up and, coward that he was, was relieved to find that she had her back to him. “I can move that suitcase to the bed if you think that’ll be easier.”

  “No, it’s okay. This won’t take long.” She laid a pair of jeans on the dresser, an
d then placed a pink bra and panties on top. “As soon as I find a clean sweater I’m going to take a shower.”

  His gut knotted. She had no intention of coming back to bed with him. The thought almost made him sick. It wasn’t about the sex. Not even a little. She was going to be gone in a few hours. Out of his apartment. Out of the city. How could that seem weird? He didn’t know her well enough.

  Off to the side, at the edge of the dresser where she’d placed the box of condoms, she set down the pink book.

  He silently cleared his throat. “Want me to scrub your back?”

  She laughed. “Like we’ll ever get out of here on time if you start that.”

  “We have a few hours,” he murmured. Maybe he was wrong about her getting all sentimental. She sounded normal. Damn, he wished she’d turn around so he could see her face. “I’ll even set the alarm.”

  She laughed again and briefly threw a look over her shoulder. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

  He silently cursed and scrubbed at his face. This was his fault. He should’ve made a joke about the condoms. Or never have slept with her at all. Hell, he’d taken her to Vermont. She’d met his family….

  “Look.” She turned around to face him, taking a quick swipe at her eyes. “Don’t get the wrong idea. If I seem a bit emotional, this has nothing to do with you. I cried when I had to leave my pink fuzzy slippers and old gray sweatpants at home, okay?”

  Nick got off the bed and walked toward her.

  “Oh, no.” She backed into the dresser. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I just want to hold you,” he said, catching her arm when she tried to rush past him to the bathroom. “That’s all.”

  “Stupid. Very stupid.”

  “Emily.”

  “Don’t ‘Emily’ me,” she said, trying to twist away from him and keeping her face averted. “At least leave me a modicum of dignity.”