by Ryanne Corey
“Well, so much for feminine intuition,” Natalie sighed. “I hate to tell you this, but I kind of thought you and he might…well, you know. I guess I was wrong.”
“I know the feeling,” Maxie said. She slashed at her tears with an impatient hand. It made her furious when she gave into self-pity like this. She reminded herself she wasn’t a victim any longer. In the great scheme of things, this was just a little bump in a long road. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m back to where I started a few days ago. No money. No mortgage loan. And no Con—” she caught herself at the last minute. “And no options.”
“Well,” Natalie said realistically, “be happy you aren’t in town. This place is positively infested with camera-carrying buttheads. And that’s exactly what I called them when they had the gall to pound on my door at the crack of dawn this morning.”
Despite her woes, Maxie giggled. “Good for you.”
“In fact, I think I’ll pack a bag and come and stay with you for a couple of days. If we’re going to be recluses for a while, we may as well be recluses together. I’ll stop and pick up some groceries on my way.”
“I’ll let the guards know you’re coming,” Maxie replied. “Don’t forget the SpaghettiOs. I’m out. And some chocolate. And some—”
“I get the picture. The cavalry is coming, sweetheart.”
Maxie hung up the phone, then walked back to her bedroom and curled up on the bed in a nice fetal position. It was supposed to be therapeutic, but she still felt caged. She felt oppressively exhausted, worn to her very soul. Hopelessness and helplessness washed over her like a crushing tide, stealing the breath from her body.
She missed him.
The first photographs in the scandal rags appeared the very next morning. Connor wanted to punch somebody when he saw them. Maxie was pictured in her boots and overalls, with various headlines. Glitter Baby Surfaces—As Old McDonald. Glitter Baby at the Fat Farm. And the most hurtful of all: Glitter Baby Tragedy. Details of a Nervous Breakdown.
And, of course, photographs of Connor wearing a frilly robe were right there alongside Maxie’s. According to the cutlines below the pictures, Connor was a “former football star turned reporter and cross-dresser.” Morris had been right. Pink really wasn’t his color. He supposed he might have found it funny under different circumstances. But nothing was funny about the terrible mess he’d created.
He was still at the Oakley Motel, crammed into a room with two double beds, members of the camera crew and Morris. He’d stopped trying to contact Maxie. Her phone had been off the hook since the day before. He didn’t really blame her for being angry, but he refused to give up before he had a chance to tell her his side of the story. His crew was getting antsy. When they asked him if they could go home, they got a flat no. When Morris started talking about Alan Greenspan again, he nearly got a lot more than a flat no. It was all Connor could do to keep his fist out of Morris’s face. In his calmer moments, he knew Morris had done nothing out of the ordinary. Sleight-of-hand tricks came along with the profession. They’d never bothered Connor before, but now he felt no better than the tabloid reporters gathered in the lobby downstairs. Just another member of the rat pack.
Around noon there was a knock at the door. Since there was a policeman stationed outside to turn away nosy reporters, Connor immediately thought it might be Maxie. He made it to the door at light speed.
But it wasn’t Maxie. Connor didn’t even try to hide the disappointment on his face when he saw Jacob Stephens.
“It’s you,” he said flatly.
Jacob lifted one gray eyebrow. He was a short man with a barrel chest and a soft-spoken demeanor that disguised a razor-sharp intellect. “It is,” he confirmed. “And judging from your reaction, you were hoping for someone else.”
Connor forced a tight smile as he ushered his godfather into the room. “Well, I’ve learned we don’t always get what we want.”
Jacob looked around the room, counting heads. “There are too many people in this room. Could you boys excuse us, please?”
Jacob was a mild-mannered man, but a shrewd and demanding boss who never gave orders twice. The room cleared in a heartbeat. Connor sat down on the edge of the bed, motioning for Jacob to take the only chair in the room. “Sorry the accommodations are so tight. There’s not a room to be found in this town.”
“So you said when you called me last night.” Jacob sat down gingerly, smoothing the creases in his slacks. “Discovering Glitter Baby in Oakley was like discovering gold. Everyone wants their chance to try their luck.”
“Don’t call her Glitter Baby,” Connor said quietly. “She has a name—Maxie Calhoon.”
Jacob observed his star reporter with keen eyes. The changes in Connor in just a few days were remarkable. His carefree attitude had been replaced by exhaustion and strain. He hadn’t shaved, and his light blue shirt was wrinkled, as if he’d slept in it. “You don’t look well,” he offered mildly.
“I’m fine.”
“You have two different-colored socks on.”
Connor looked down at his feet. “So I do. Maybe I’ll start a new fad…one brown argyle, one white athletic sock.”
Jacob couldn’t quite discipline his smile. “Or pink bathrobes with ruffles. Very fetching, I must say.”
Connor rolled his eyes. “My old football buddies are going to get a kick out of that. I’ll never live it down. Jacob, I’m sorry I messed this thing up. I know you needed this interview.”
“We still have the interview,” Jacob replied.
Connor stared at him. He had to open his mouth two or three times before any sound came out. “What do you mean? Yesterday she tossed me out of her house.”
“All right, I’ll rephrase it. I have the interview. Maxie Calhoon got in touch with me late last night. She’s willing to go ahead with the interview as long as you’re not the one posing the questions.”
“I see.” It took Connor a moment to recover from that one. “I suppose I can’t blame her. Are you planning on doing it yourself?”
“That was what she suggested,” Jacob replied. “Rather firmly. She said she needed the money, but that wasn’t her whole motivation. Apparently there are a few things she would like to set straight.”
“I guess that’s that, then.” Connor’s jaw was clenched hard enough to crack a filling. “The lady knows what she wants.”
“Unlike most women.” Jacob’s brows drew together thoughtfully. He’d known Connor Garrett all his life, but this somber-faced man bore no resemblance to the brash, carefree spirit he was familiar with. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Connor in a blue funk. “Remember what I told you about never letting pleasure interfere with business?”
Connor colored hotly. “Yes.”
“Did you let pleasure interfere with business?”
Connor considered this thoughtfully. “Pleasure is too mild a word, I’m afraid. I let love interfere with business.”
Jacob gave a soft whistle, his eyes stretching. “Well, this is a surprise, I must say. I’d just about given up on you finding someone special. You never seemed to want it badly enough.”
“I can promise you,” Connor muttered softly, “I want Maxie Calhoon more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same way about me.”
Jacob stood up, wandering to the window. With his back turned to Connor, he said, “Are you sure?”
“She made it pretty damn clear,” Connor confirmed bleakly.
Jacob turned to look at Connor, an inscrutable expression on his face. “I had a little talk with Morris. I know pretty much everything. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
Connor felt like he was coming apart inside his skin. He stood up and started pacing, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “That’s where you’re wrong. I know how this business works, Jacob. I knew what would happen, but I didn’t want to face it. I was taking every opportunity to spend more time with her, regardless of the risks.
Now she’s the one paying for it.”
Jacob shook his head in bemusement. “Amazing. I’ve never seen you exhibit such remorse, particularly for something you didn’t do. It’s quite extraordinary.”
“Was I so bad?”
“Oh no, quite the contrary. You were always in good spirits. That’s why I worried about you. All your life, everything came so easily to you. I’m not sure you learned how to value anything. You never cared for anyone enough to stick your neck out and risk getting hurt. And without that vulnerability, love can’t exist.”
“Well, I sure as hell care now,” Connor muttered. “My neck is stuck out all the way to China, and I’m hurting like there’s no tomorrow. For all the good it’s doing me.”
“Would you rather we didn’t go ahead with the story?”
Connor scowled. He was still smarting from the knowledge Maxie wanted Jacob to conduct the interview. “It has nothing to do with me anymore. You make the call.”
“What do you mean, it has nothing to do with you? You’ve been on this story from the beginning.”
“I’m quitting,” Connor said abruptly. “I’m going to take care of the lien on Maxie’s house, then I’m going home. I have no idea what I’m going to do, but it’s not going to be in front of a camera. I’m sorry if this puts you in a bad position, Jacob. You’ve always believed in me, and I appreciate it more than I can say. I’d do anything for you, but I just can’t go on like nothing’s happened.”
Jacob put his hand on Connor’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m not worried about doing the interview, son. I was a reporter for twenty years, so I figure I can handle myself.”
“Good,” Connor said in a hollow voice. “Everything’s settled then.”
“I’d like you to do me one favor, however. Stick around until we have the interview wrapped. You’re the expert, and I’d like you around for backup. I’m bound to be a bit rusty. I’m sure I’m going to need all the help I can get. After that, I’ll accept your resignation and wish you the best.”
Connor smiled faintly, not at all fooled by Jacob’s humble demeanor. “You won’t need me, Jacob. You’re a professional.”
“Humor me.”
Connor shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. “Fine. Whatever. After all you’ve done for me, I suppose that’s the least I can do. But I warn you, Maxie is not going to like it. The last thing she said to me was—and I quote—don’t ever come back.”
“Really?” Jacob looked amused. “Another first. As a rule, women seem to be quite…cooperative…where you’re concerned. Confidentially, I always thought if I’d been born looking more like you—a little more hair, a few more inches—I wouldn’t have ended up as a lonely bachelor at fifty-three. This girl of yours must be something quite special.”
“This girl of mine…” Connor said softly, a flicker of pain contorting his face. He closed his eyes, seeing her image burning brightly on his retinas. “I don’t know how to stop caring. I don’t want to stop caring. She’s one of a kind, Jacob.”
“I’ve never met her, but after listening to you, I’m inclined to agree.” Jacob’s brown-eyed gaze was infinitely kind. “Don’t despair, dear boy. We never know what fate has in store for us. Why, that’s half the joy of living, waiting to see what happens next.”
“Half the joy,” Connor muttered, “or half the pain?”
“Gracious, she’s turned you into a cynic in a few short days. I must meet her immediately. Take a shower, round up the crew and meet me downstairs in one hour. She’s expecting me at noon.”
“Expecting you,” Connor said darkly. “I’m going to be a surprise.”
“Indeed you are.” Smiling, Jacob headed for the door. “This should be highly entertaining.”
Ten
Maxie knew there had been some horrible cosmic error in her life, a tragedy of major proportions. Not only was she walking around with a wounded heart, but—horror of horrors—she’d lost her appetite, as well.
“Force yourself,” Natalie said sternly, facing her daughter across the kitchen table. “I made you chicken noodle soup, which cures everything. But it isn’t going to help a darn bit unless you eat it.”
“It’s not going to cure what ails me,” Maxie mumbled, stirring circles in the soup with her spoon. “I’m permanently damaged.”
Natalie sighed heavily, knowing her daughter’s predilection for high drama. “Dear hart, you’re much stronger than you think. If you don’t want your soup, eat some chocolate. Chocolate always makes you feel better.”
“I know,” Maxie replied in a soggy voice. “It’s really making me mad. That damn man has ruined chocolate for me.”
“He’s an absolute monster, dear. If he were here right now, I would deck him.”
Maxie blinked. “Deck him? Mother—”
“To mislead you like that, to trick you into letting your guard down, to take advantage of your friendship. Well, there are no words for men like him. And to think, he seems so personable and trustworthy, like a Boy Scout. Aren’t you grateful he’s out of the picture once and for all?”
“Ecstatic.”
“If I were you,” Natalie continued, warming to her subject, “I would sue the man. I would press charges. I would—”
“Mother, you’re getting worked up.” For some obscure reason, Maxie felt obliged to set the record straight. “It’s not like he kidnapped me. He just…tricked me. Sort of.”
“Like I said, a monster. Any man who would lie like a rug just to get close to a woman because she was famous—”
“I never said he actually lied. He just didn’t tell me the truth.”
“The truth about what, dear?” Natalie stared at her daughter expectantly.
“Well…” Maxie’s mind went blank. Feeling more frustrated by the minute, she stood up and carried her dishes to the sink. “Never mind. I know what he did and he knows what he did. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m going to change my clothes. Jacob Stephens should be here with the television crew any minute.”
“What are you going to wear?”
Maxie shrugged, not really caring one way or the other. “Jeans, I suppose. I’m not Glitter Baby anymore. I don’t need to worry about making an impression.”
“You might,” Natalie suggested helpfully, “want to do your hair up in a little French twist or—”
“I’m not going to worry about my hair.” Maxie wasn’t trying to be difficult. She simply couldn’t summon any interest in her appearance. When it came right down to it, she couldn’t summon much interest in anything. “I’m sorry, really. I know I’m not much fun right now. I just want this interview done with.”
“You’re quite amazing, honey,” Natalie said softly. “You have remarkable courage.”
“I’m not amazing at all. It’s like you said. I’ve become ordinary. I just need to let the rest of the world in on that fact and maybe they’ll leave me alone.” Her eyes misted over with tears, her shoulders bowed like a tired child’s. “I don’t know what’s happening in me. I’m a mess. I’m afraid it’s going to hurt like this forever. I thought I’d paid my dues, figured I had put Glitter Baby behind me once and for all. And then, then when I finally find someone…”
She cried then, and not for the first time that day. Natalie held her daughter in her arms just as she had the first day Maxie had returned to Wyoming to begin healing. “You’re far stronger than you think, Maxie,” she whispered. “The rest of your life begins today. Trust me when I tell you everything is going to be all right.”
“I was so sure,” Maxie choked out. “I thought he looked at me and saw me. And now…now all I feel is this terrible emptiness.”
Natalie stroked her daughter’s hair, waiting until the shudders that coursed through her body subsided. “Unfortunately, you’re going to look a little puffy around the eyes if you don’t stop crying. What with the interview and everything,” Natalie glanced over Maxie’s shoulder at the kitchen window and froze. “Uh-oh. Oh, dear. This
is bad.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Still rubbing her eyes, Maxie turned and glanced out the window. Her eyes widened and her pity-fest immediately turned into a dry, flat panic. Two television vans were parked in her driveway…right behind a yellow compact rental car. A distinguished-looking, balding fellow in a tweed jacket was striding towards the house, right beside a very tall man with rainbow-brown hair and a tense expression on his face.
“I told him never to come back,” Maxie said fiercely. “I said never.”
“It appears he didn’t listen.” Natalie sighed and looked her daughter up and down. “You’re a little splotchy, honey. You might want to do some salvage work before you face him. Then again, this would certainly be a good opportunity to show him you truly don’t care a lick how you—”
“Keep them busy,” Maxie told her, already halfway to the bedroom. “Tell them I just came in from milking. Buy me some time.”
“I thought you didn’t care how you looked?” Natalie called after her daughter.
“I don’t. I don’t give a damn.”
Natalie heard the bedroom door slam shut. At almost the same instant, the doorbell rang. “This should be interesting,” she murmured, a tiny smile playing with the corner of her lips as she went to answer the door. “Who said life in the country was dull?”
Connor was a bundle of raw nerves. He wanted to see Maxie in the worst way, but not like this. Not with his boss and her mother looking on. Not with a television crew waiting outside and Maxie apparently locked in her bedroom again. This was not a good situation, and he very much regretted letting Jacob talk him into coming.
“Do you think your daughter will be long?” Jacob inquired of Natalie. “I’d like to do the outside shots while we have good light.”
“She just came in from milking,” Natalie lied obediently. “She’s cleaning up a bit. You know, Mr. Stephens, you’re not at all what I expected.”