His smile fell. “I see.”
“You know, I’d trade you the check for a quick interview,” she said. He shook his head before she even finished, saying, “I could keep my job and buy my own outfit. Think of the money you’ll save.”
The conversation paused while the server placed their meals on the table.
His frown deepened as he sliced his steak and plopped a healthy piece into his mouth. Once he swallowed his food, he took a long drink from his glass and then wiped his mouth on the cloth napkin. “I don’t do interviews. I also don’t give out information that can be used for career-making stories.”
“I know,” she said before taking a bite of her food. If she wasn’t taken aback by the direction that this meeting had gone, she would take the time to savor each bite of the delicious meal. It had to be the best she’d ever eaten.
He picked up his fork again and motioned to her with it. “So, frankly, you’re wasting your time.” His eyebrows furrowed.
“You know, this is such a fine restaurant. Let’s not ruin it by talking about something that clearly upsets you. Since you don’t want to discuss anything in regard to yourself, feel free to pick the topic.”
His dark brown eyes staring at her made her squirm in her seat. He was quiet as he ate half of his lunch, never taking his gaze off of her. She tried sitting still under his attention but wanted to know what he was thinking. Why didn’t he just say what was on his mind? Did he want her to leave? To end lunch? Only a few more bites were left on her plate anyway. The end to this was coming soon.
“How did you get started in sports journalism?”
“My father inspired me. He actually retired from the position I’m trying to get.”
The hard stare softened. “I can completely understand what you mean. The whole following in your father’s footsteps thing.”
She nodded. “But it’s not going to happen. Anyway, I heard you train in Portland. Did you grow up there?”
“Nope.” He finished his water and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed across his beefy chest and the frown went flat. “Tell me about your father.”
“He lives in the same town as me, so I see him as often as possible. We are really close.” She told Rally about his fascination with sports and his success as a journalist. She described his current struggle with health issues and how he refused to give up. “I definitely look up to him and he holds the honor of being my best friend.”
Rally’s smile returned. “He sounds great,” he said, glancing down at his watch. A small diamond glittered right under the number three. His eyes widened. “Oh no. I’m late. My trainer is going to be so pissed.” His hand shot up in the air to signal for the server to bring the check.
“I’m sorry for keeping you so long,” she said as Rally scribbled his signature on the receipt the server handed him.
He glanced up at her and held her gaze in his for a bit. “I’ve actually enjoyed myself. Too bad this wasn’t under different circumstances.”
She slid away from the table and stood. “Yes, too bad. Thank you for everything. You went well above what was warranted.” She shook his hand and then placed her business card in his palm. “If you ever change your mind or ever want to talk, give me a call. My cell is on there.”
His sexy smile made her heart melt. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
*****
Grunts of hard work and desperation filled the boxing gym. Some boxers were putting in their best work in preparation for a fight while others wanted to reach the next level. Rally should’ve been home, enjoying his first day back and lounging in his flannel pj’s in front of the big screen, but no. He wouldn’t have won the champion position if he’d lacked the dedication and drive for success. And that’s why he wore his workout clothes and was ready to give one hundred percent.
“Hey, Brewer,” Felix called from his position alongside the ring. Trent, who also flew home yesterday, bounced around the ring. “You had a lazy day yesterday. Get out and hit the streets. Three miles.”
“Sure thing.” He did some quick stretches and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler before heading out. From the street, his gym looked like a parking garage with a rolling metal door. Void of a sign advertising the place, only the locals in the boxing field and the neighbors knew where to look. He jogged down Washington Avenue and made a left. If only this place wasn’t smack in the middle of downtown Portland, his run would be more beneficial. A few more blocks and he’d be at the park. The big, open space allowed him to pick up his pace and made his pulse race.
As he jogged down the city street, a woman with the same shade of blonde hair as Grace walked toward him. It wasn’t her though. He’d noticed Grace right away in the crowd outside of the ring two nights ago. Her smile had captured him then and hadn’t let him go yet. He’d hurt her, making him obligated to do something nice to make it up to her. Sure, most guys would’ve asked for her address to mail her a check. Not Rally.
He stopped at the street light and waited for the sign to flicker to the walk symbol. Just be like every other guy, he always told himself. Not too nice and it’s okay to ignore people on occasion. He’d also told himself that she shouldn’t have been so close to the door and the accident wouldn’t have happened. But his good sense refused to forget the incident. So he’d found himself sitting across the table from her, admiring the glint of hope in her light blue eyes and the hint of humor playing at the corners of her lips. And the tenderness she had for her father! Damn, Rally was such a sucker for family life. He shook his head. Such a fool.
Last time he’d been to Las Vegas for a fight, he’d met Stella Angeline. At that time, he didn’t even know if that was her real name or one she’d made up to whisper to her one-night-stand quests. He realized now what he’d always been to her but that wasn’t what he had intended on when meeting her. A bar was involved in their meeting. She’d been drunk, him sober. He’d been drawn to her by her eyes first, then her soft hair, and finally, her ass smashed into an itty-bitty skirt with a thong underneath meant for clubbing. That thing with Stella had meant much more to him than he had to her. On the second night in Vegas, they’d had a hot night of toe-curling sex without further contact between them until she waited for him at another boxing match months later. Pregnant! Out of obligation he moved the Las Vegas native in with him. Six months to fall in love with her, to find out she didn’t love him back, and have a baby. Remembering her left a sour taste in his mouth.
He jogged through the park entrance and increased his speed, pumping his legs faster. Heat pulsated his cheeks when the sweat dripped down his face. He kept running as fast as he could, his heart pounding against his rib cage. Stella’s face flashed in his mind again. Yeah, he’d been in love with her and the attraction in the beginning shot him in the gut like when he’d just met Grace at the boxing arena. Not good. He didn’t need another Stella incident, giving his heart away and all of that bullshit. The only good part from his former situation was Addison. He didn’t want to-no-he couldn’t let himself walk down Heartbreak Lane again. He, along with his career, barely made it through the crushing aftermath of Stella Angeline.
He needed to wrap up his concern over Grace’s injury. Still feeling the slam of the guilt the accident had issued, he wondered if she was still in a lot of pain. Damn, she’d looked like hell over lunch. Her nose had swelled two sizes bigger and the yellow, purple, and brown swirls across the injured area made his own eyes water when he’d stared at it. He knew first-hand how bad a broken nose felt, having suffered the injury a few times in the ring.
*****
With defeat filling her heart, she called Ray as soon as she left the airport. She didn’t go into details about her trip but set up a time to meet up at the office even though it was normally closed on Saturdays. The happiness in his voice didn’t do anything to make her feel better. She’d lost and he knew it. He’d wanted her to fail right from the start and she did. Now what?
She parked her old Buick in her
spot at her dad’s house. He wasn’t expecting her, but she didn’t worry. The screen door flew open and the tall, white-haired man stepped outside. No sooner than she opened the door and stood, he was down the steps and wrapping her in a hug.
“Grace, I didn’t expect you so soon.” Without waiting for a response, he held her at arm’s length. He squinted through his glasses as he looked closer. “What the hell happened to your nose? Did you see a doctor about that?”
She nodded. “Kind of. I saw Rally Brewer’s medic. She said it’s probably fractured but didn’t need to have it reset. It’ll heal on its own.”
“She was probably pretty accurate on her assessment. Want something to eat? Drink?”
“I’m fine, Dad. I haven’t even been home yet.”
“You must’ve gotten your article since you’re home.”
“I didn’t get it, so I set up an appointment with Ray tomorrow.” Sadness sank into her heart. She hated having Ray as her boss but enjoyed everyone else at the magazine. Saying goodbye to her goals bothered her even more. Ray won this fight.
“This looks like a situation that calls for some putting on the green.” He motioned toward the locked shed next to where his golf cart was parked on the carport. “Grab our bags while I slip into my shoes.”
She laughed as she went over to the shed. Her father was ready to golf any moment of the day. While most people talked over coffee, her father discussed serious topics over a tee. As she put each of their bags into the back of the cart, she wondered if Rally golfed and imagined him on the green with a club in his hand. The screen door squeaked open and then shut again.
“Look at you, staring off into space. You usually are ready to go by now. Where’s your shoes?” her dad asked, snapping her attention back to the preparation for the golf course.
She gave a small laugh as her cheeks flushed with heat. She turned grabbed her golfing shoes that she kept on the shelf in the shed and put them on. She didn’t particularly like to golf but since her father did, participating gave her extra time with him.
“Sorry, Pops,” she said. Once her shoes were tied, she climbed into the passenger side of the golf cart. She offered him a smile as she said, “Let’s go.”
His mouth spread into a grin. “You haven’t called me Pops since you were little.” He gunned the engine and managed to get them to top speed… a whopping twenty miles an hour, and an elderly gentleman yelled for Dad to slow down as they whipped around the corner. “So tell me what happened. All of it.”
She slowly inhaled and then exhaled before she let the truth tumble out. He listened to everything she had to say, about thinking Rally had invited her back for an interview and then him smacking her in the face. She even declared that they’d had a great lunch and got along nicely, but to have to give up her job in the morning. What she didn’t tell her father was the way she felt around Rally and how his deep chuckle made her stomach turn to jelly. How she hadn’t wanted the lunch to end or to say goodbye. That she felt like she could talk to him forever and not ever grow bored or run out of things to say. Those truths stayed hidden in her heart.
“So tell me about this meeting with Ray.”
“You see,” she said, “I failed. Maybe this job isn’t right for me.”
“Did I ever tell you that I had dinner with Rally Brewer once?” He nodded before she had a chance to answer. “Yes, ma’am, I did. Well, we weren’t having dinner together, but at the same dinner party. I sat right across from him. It was at a sponsor’s house, and being well-known in the industry, I received an invite.” He grinned with pride. “See, your pops knew his stuff.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why didn’t you me any of that? Why didn’t you? You knew I was going to try for an interview with Rally Brewer.”
“Because there isn’t much to tell. I can give you details like what the man ate or wore to dinner, but you already found that out on your own. You see, Rally didn’t really talk to anyone. When he did, he discussed a fight or signing with a new sponsor-that sort of deal. Nothing about his private life. Nothing at all. His date did a lot of chatting about herself. I tried inviting him for drinks because I wanted to get the story on him just like every reporter did. He declined, of course.”
“So you’re saying there is no hope.” She sighed and fought back the frustration that demanded to be released in the form of tears.
“Not at all. I’m saying that you were able to get a lot further with that guy than anyone I know. I was at an event and I watched Rally refuse to shake a reporter’s hand. On another occasion a reporter was eavesdropping on Rally’s conversation and Rally snatched that recorder from her hand and smashed it on the ground. He has a very short temper when it comes to reporters stealing information about him. You have your foot in the door, sweetheart, just get in there.”
They slowed the cart to a stop by the first putting green. She followed him over the lush grass and waited until they were pulling their first clubs out before she spoke. “But how do I get that door open?”
“He obviously finds you attractive.”
Rally thought she was attractive? Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought. “How do you know that?”
Her father chuckled. “Because I’m a guy. I might be old now, but I’ve been around the block a few times, sweetheart.” He pointed the rounded part of the club toward her before turning to his tee. “You were taught to use all the tools in your writer toolbox, correct?”
She nodded.
“And the fact that he finds you attractive is a tool you can use to your advantage. Go there and hang around his gym. You have-what-two weeks to get the story turned in to Ray?” He hit the ball with very little effort, sending the little white ball sailing through the air and over a small patch of trees downhill from them, inches from the hole. No doubt about it, her father could still kick her butt at golf. “Two weeks is enough time.”
She groaned at the reminder of her deadline. “I can’t get another ticket. I should’ve followed him instead of coming home.” Her turn up at the tee. One swing. Miss. Another stroke. She took a chunk of sod up with her club. On the third swing she hit the ball, sending it rolling down the hill but not enough to make it to its designated spot beyond the trees. They moved down the course.
“So drive up there. Gas is nowhere near the price of a plane ticket and it’ll only take a day or so. If you need cash, just say the word. I might have a little bit of something tucked away for a rainy day.” Instead of going down to their balls, he turned back to the pavement.
“Where are we going, Dad?”
They started down the street in the direction of his house. “I’m taking you back to your car, but first I’m fixing you up a lunch for the road. Promise me that you’ll stop at a hotel if you get too tired. No sleeping in your car. That’s too dangerous. Got it?”
They pulled into his carport and he turned his raised dad-says-so eyebrow at her. “Well?”
“Yes, Pops.”
His laugh came out in a burst as he pulled her into a hug. “I love you, doll. Let’s get you some food, so you can get your story.”
Thirty minutes later, she was back behind the wheel with a large sack of food her father insisted she take on her journey. This time though, she was headed to rainy, cold Oregon… an unfamiliar state in another attempt to find and interview Rally Brewer. Before she left her dad’s neighborhood, she called Ray again.
“Hello, Ray,” she greeted and didn’t let him respond. Nerves gripped her insides, forcing each word to bubble from her lips. “I’m out of town again for the Rally Brewer interview and won’t make our meeting tomorrow.” Now she paused to hear what he had to say.
“Who is this?” The question bit at her, considering there were only two female employees.
She sighed. “Cut the crap, Ray. I’ve worked for you for two years.”
He chuckled. “Right. You were my assistant and attempting to be a reporter.”
She didn’t hide the hurt from her voice th
is time and wondered if her boss picked up on it as she said, “Exactly. Anyway, I’m just letting you know that I will have the story about Rally Brewer with me when I return.”
Another chuckle. “So you say, Grace.” And then the line went dead.
She squeezed the steering wheel with frustration as she turned on I-5, the freeway that connected California to Oregon. One straight shot up that freeway and she’d be in Portland. And hopefully where Rally had flown to.
The question remained: why was Grace so driven to work for a complete asshole? Because her father had. And she admired Dad with every part of her heart and mind. She pressed on the accelerator and merged with the heavy traffic. She admitted to herself, and to anyone who cared to know, that Ray treated her like complete shit. Who knew, maybe she needed to be hired on for this position as a way to achieve that goal before moving on? And it didn’t hurt to be required to interview men like Rally Brewer.
Chapter Three
The following morning, Rally wiped the last bit of shaving cream from his chin before making his way down the hall and into the kitchen. He bent to kiss his daughter, Addison, on the cheek and gave Nanny Fern a grin.
“How are you this morning, Fern?”
She spooned milk-sogged Cheerios into the opened mouth of Addison. “Just fine,” she said. “We have play group this morning and then I’d like to take her to the library for Tot’s Time. You know, that craft and story hour for the toddlers.”
He glanced at the fridge covered in Addison’s art that she did nearly every day with Fern. The nineteen-year-old came from England as a foreign exchange student to his buddy and decided to return as Rally’s nanny when she’d turned eighteen. And Rally couldn’t have asked for a better one. The best part was that Fern loved to travel with them and made sure nobody connected his daughter to him while they were on the road. Fern was never too shy to pretend his little girl belonged to her. “Sounds like a great day.”
Passionate Kisses 2 Boxed Set: Love in Bloom Page 14