Max had seen them just a few weeks ago but they’d gone through hell together after his dad died and he missed them when they weren’t around. Conversation was always very easy with his little family and they were staying two weeks this time. It was a little vacation before Scott started his pediatric residency.
His brother looked like their mom, dark hair and blue eyes, smaller frame. Max looked exactly like their father; big with light hair and brown eyes. Fortunately, Scott had grown substantially taller than Annabelle’s five-two height.
They got back to his place, and he glanced toward the rear of the buildings on the first floor. The owner…Josie…was outside on her cell phone. She looked upset. She was lean, cute butt, small breasts, and had long legs for her small build. Her hair was still in pigtails and she wore a pink apron over a thin t-shirt and khaki capris. There were running shoes on her feet.
As he watched, she gave a fantastic yell of fury. Okay, odd. Then she jumped up, caught the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder, and started knocking out chin-ups.
Well, fuck me. She dropped into a powerful swing, back and forth several times, finally dismounting with a small flip and a spike landing. Hell-o. She shook herself out, rubbed her temples, and went back inside.
“Friend of yours?” his mom asked beside him.
“She is totally hot and athletic. Please don’t tell me you have dibs,” Scott sighed.
Max shook his head in the negative and replied firmly, “Yeah, I got dibs, bro.” What the hell?
To his mom, he said, “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you over dinner if you don’t yell at me or try to ground me.” Her look of surprise made him smile.
Upstairs they settled in, unpacked, and caught up on the latest details about the looming football season. They ate stuffed chicken breasts, salad, and low-carb pasta Patty prepared for them. All of them were in paradise after the first bite.
Annabelle and Scott begged her to eat with them and she finally consented, fussing over Scott and pinching his cheeks. A boisterous, happy woman, Patty was always a great addition to conversation. They sat talking for almost two hours and she insisted on cleaning up before she left for home.
They watched “The Replacements” and it had them all laughing like the first time they’d seen it. Annabelle fell asleep on the couch and she laughed when her oldest son picked her up and carried her to the guest room.
Max set her on the bench at the end of the bed and kissed her forehead. “See you in the morning, Mom.” She patted his cheek and told him how much she loved him.
He went back to the living room and Scott stretched out to chat. Dropping into one of the recliners, Max sat and they talked for a long time about everything and nothing. Unlike many siblings, the brothers had always gotten along well. They were so different that Scott liked to say they complemented one another’s strengths and weaknesses.
When the younger man drifted off to sleep during a lull in the conversation, Max grabbed a throw blanket from the closet and covered him up. He ruffled his hair like he’d done when they were kids and thought about what a great doctor Scott was going to be. Kids adored him. They always had.
All through elementary and middle school, his little brother had volunteered for Max’s team. During his senior year, one of the guys on defense had ripped open his calf when he hit another player’s cleat during a pileup. Scott remained calm, stopped the bleeding, and tended to the wound until the paramedics arrived.
He’d wanted to be a doctor ever since.
He shut off the lights and locked up. Staring out at the great view from his bedroom, he sighed happily to have his family with him. He got lonely sometimes without them close. Exhausted, he stripped and climbed in his huge bed.
His thoughts drifted to a woman with pink in her hair as he fell asleep.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Max woke to the smell of bacon frying and women laughing. He got up, pulled on jeans, and padded to the kitchen in bare feet.
Scott was sitting at the bar, smiling at a young woman with blonde hair and pink highlights. A big bakery box sat on the counter. Annabelle and Patty were hysterical at something the woman had said.
“Good morning, everyone,” Max said groggily.
The blonde turned and jumped, staggered back, and knocked a vase off the bar that shattered into a thousand pieces. Her face was frozen in fear and Max had no idea how to react.
She looked at Scott with narrowed eyes. “Is this a setup?”
Scott shook his head in confusion; a look shared by all of them. She’d gone from laughing to terrified in a single moment.
She turned back to Max who had his hands up in a non-threatening position, palms out. He’d read once that frightened animals needed space so he backed up a bit to give her room.
“You don’t recognize me?” she asked Max coldly. Before he could answer, shocked at the vehemence of her words, she took one step toward him. Her intense violet eyes bored into his.
“Take a close look, Mr. Grant.” He shook his head slowly.
Then suddenly he did know her.
In an instant, her story poured into his head and everything made sense from the moment he’d met her. The first year he’d come to Pittsburgh, her face had been all over the news.
Back then, she was a waitress at a local sports bar. She was an aspiring ballerina and a genuinely nice person according to everyone who worked with her.
One night at work, a rookie for the Steelers and two of his friends had cornered her in the alley behind the bar. She was beaten and sexually assaulted because she wouldn’t give them what they wanted.
The owner of the place noticed her absence and went looking. She was already unconscious on the ground but her attackers still wouldn’t let her go.
According to his statement, the rookie told him, “You don’t want none of this old man. We’re just having a little fun.”
The big bartender didn’t take no for an answer and refused to walk away. The baseball bat he kept behind the bar to keep the peace forever ended the career of the player. He kneecapped him and kept his fellow teammates at bay while he called 911.
The reporters had shown up at the same time the ambulance did.
Pictures of the waitress being lifted into the ambulance hit the morning paper. She was beaten and her clothing was torn. All three men had taken turns fondling her. Their intended rape had been interrupted by her boss.
The trial had been brutal. She’d been the one treated like a criminal.
The defense trying to say she’d invited the player and his friends to the alley for a good time then tried to rob them. They’d only been defending themselves. Their attorney brought up every boyfriend she’d ever had and found one willing to say she was a gold-digging slut.
The fact that she barely weighed a hundred pounds and her three attackers had all been huge men who each weighed more than two-fifty hadn’t sat well with the jury and they’d convicted on all counts.
The tide of public opinion had quickly turned against the victim. Discussions about her “motives” for pursuing justice, the “promise” of the players who’d attacked her, and the “backlash” the team would experience because of their loss was suddenly far more important than the fact that she’d gone to work as usual and left in an ambulance.
When the season started a few weeks after the players’ convictions, the hate mail from outraged fans began. It became apparent that a woman’s safety was not nearly as important as the career of an up-and-coming running back they’d traded two of their seasoned veterans for.
Her own dreams of professional ballet were destroyed due to the injuries she sustained during her attack but no one talked about that. She returned to the bar after her doctors cleared her. Despite her co-workers’ support, she was harassed nightly. There were reports that friends and family had abandoned her. She was stalked by sickos turned on by what she’d gone through.
Then one day, a year after the trial, she quit her job and d
isappeared.
Max studied her carefully. She’d cut her long hair and dyed it. She now wore contacts instead of the reading glasses he remembered during the trial. She dressed and moved differently.
“You’re Jocelyn Channing.” He heard his mother and brother gasp behind her.
She nodded. “Which says it all, don’t you agree? I go by Josie now. I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.” Josie turned to the others who were unable to hide their shock.
Max had talked at length with his family about the situation in Pittsburgh during the trial. They’d been as disgusted by the behavior of the defense attorney and the public as he was.
“It was a pleasure to meet you. I’m very sorry about the vase. Excuse me. I need to go.” Then she was in the elevator and gone.
Max moved to follow and Patty put a restraining hand on his forearm. “Watch the glass, honey. Your feet are bare.” He nodded and leaned against the bar on the other side of his brother while Patty went to get a broom and dustpan.
“What was she doing here?” He buried his face in his hands. The thought of what the woman had gone through, what she’d had to experience during and after her attack, made him so much more ashamed at the way he’d met her.
It was no wonder she kept fit, wore running shoes, and carried a gun. She was always prepared for someone to hurt her again.
“Mom and I went to get coffee and doughnuts. She was delivering two orders in the building when we were coming back up. We invited her in for a cup of coffee. I didn’t know, Max. I’m sorry. I guess I’m less…intimidating to her. I didn’t recognize her.”
Annabelle came around the bar and put her hand on Max’s shoulder. “Honey, you just startled her, being who and what you are. You can’t blame her but you can’t blame yourself either.”
“I’ve never had anyone look at me like that before, Mom. I’ve never seen someone…especially a woman…so afraid of me. I’d never hurt a woman. Ever. She really did go through hell; I didn’t mean to make it worse.” He took a deep breath and told them about walking into Josie’s bakery before dawn and scaring her to death.
“Oh, Max,” his mother scolded gently.
He closed his eyes. “I know. Her reaction makes so much more sense now. I’m a fucking idiot. I have to fix this. Help me fix it, Mom.”
Annabelle hugged her eldest son and stroked his hair. “Okay, Max. We’ll fix it.” Leaning back, she patted his cheek. “Have some coffee and I’ll think on it with Patty.”
He sat there for a long time, sipping his coffee, and lost in thought.
When the cup was empty, Max stood and went into his bedroom. A few minutes later, he came out fully dressed. He picked up his wallet and sunglasses and left without a word.
The others shared a look as the door closed behind him. They all knew exactly where he was going.
Chapter Four
When he opened the door of Josie’s Java Joint, the patrons inside went completely still and silent.
O-kay. Not the entrance he’d been hoping for. He was trying for subtle and discreet. Fuck.
He gave the other customers a smile and approached the counter. Josie stood on the other side, her palms flat on the counter, her look resigned.
“What can I get you?” she asked him with a sigh.
He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head. “Two minutes of your time. Have a cup of coffee with me. Just one. Lots of people around. Not that you’d need it, I would never hurt a woman. I wasn’t raised like that.” He was rambling, talking too fast, and stopped. Taking a deep breath, he started over. “Please. Have a cup of coffee with me?”
Her expression was wary but she nodded.
Turning to the young girl behind the counter, she said, “Trish, be right back.” She came out from behind the counter and walked past him, careful to avoid brushing against him.
It made his heart hurt to understand why she was so cautious. She was a little taller than his mom, slim, and very pretty.
Josie chose a table and sat with her back to the wall. She used her foot to push a chair out for him. Max turned it around and straddled the seat, putting an extra barrier between them.
She smiled as if she knew exactly what he was doing.
“I’m sorry I scared you. That was, without a doubt, the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I’m sorry I scared you again this morning. I heard my mom and brother, my housekeeper Patty. I wouldn’t have come out without a shirt if I’d known someone was in the apartment. I didn’t mean to sneak up behind you.”
He cleared his throat. “With that said, now that I do know who you are, I find myself being eaten up with guilt for something I didn’t do, would never do, as a person…as a man.” He kept his arms on the back of the chair but met her gaze directly. “I don’t know how to fix this and I want to fix it very badly. What can I do? Please tell me what I can do.”
“Why do you care?”
For a long moment, he didn’t know what to say. Then he thought about his mom. “Because I should. What happened to you was awful, and the punishment wasn’t enough as far as I’m concerned.”
“Thank you for that.”
“Despite appearances, I don’t normally break into bakeries to steal doughnuts. I was driven out of my mind. Nothing but chicken and broccoli for weeks and the smell of those fresh-baked doughnuts had my mouth watering so bad…I can’t explain.”
He rubbed his hands down his face, suddenly embarrassed. “I’d actually hoped some would be in the back so I could grab them like a greedy little fat kid and scarf them down. No matter what, I was going to leave money for them.” He shook his head.
“I don’t think I’m entitled, because of who I am or the job I do, to just take what I want. It was out of the norm for me, as my mother can tell you. I want you to forgive me. I’d like you to trust me as someone who would never hurt you.”
She leaned forward and crossed her arms on the table. “For what purpose? Your reputation with women is legendary, Mr. Grant. I’m something of a football fan, at least I used to be. I followed the game and many of the players for years until I had the joy of it beaten out of me in an alley.”
He flinched as if she’d slapped him. “I call it like it is. I don’t sugarcoat it to myself or anyone else. With that said, you have plenty of female attention, all you could possibly want, without worrying about what some damaged bakery owner thinks about you. What do you want, Mr. Grant?”
“I’d like you to call me Max. I want us to be friends, Josie.”
That earned him a delicate snort of disbelief. “Really? Max, tell me…have you ever, since puberty, had a female around your age in your life that you called a friend? You’re thirty-one, have had more…let’s call them relationships…than most women have in their entire life. Why should I trust you to be my friend?”
Careful thought revealed she was right. He decided to be completely honest. “No. I’ve never had a female friend. You’d be my first, Josie. You can trust me, because if I ever were to make a pass at you, if you said no, that would be the end of it. I’ve never so much as coerced a woman in my life.” He smiled. “I’m happy to provide references.”
“You cannot possibly remember all those names and numbers.”
One delicate brow lifted in light mockery and he laughed loudly, drawing attention to them. “Guilty but it doesn’t make me a bad person, Josie. I admit I’ve been promiscuous but I’ve always treated my partners with respect. I adore women.”
She sat back and crossed her hands in her lap, thinking for a long time before she spoke. “Alright, Max. We’ll try being friends. What would be your first suggestion, as friends, for us to do?”
He seemed to consider the question seriously, “Well, with my guy friends, I usually go to games…basketball, baseball, hockey…and so on. We go to movies, the more action the better. We work out together and go running. Have crappy food we’re not supposed to be eating. None of that artsy-fartsy crap like museums and stuff.” He tilted his head.
<
br /> “What do you do with your female friends?”
“I don’t have any female friends anymore, Max.”
“I’m sorry.”
Josie shrugged. “The few I had felt I blew things out of proportion when the DA gave me the option to drop the charges and I refused. Apparently, when hot athletes proposition you with two hundred dollars, you’re supposed to take it, and check your self-respect at the door.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry.”
She looked away for a moment. “When I did have female friends, we went to movies. They preferred romance, I preferred anything with Dwayne Johnson or Bruce Willis in it. I went to the ballet a lot. Before…everything…when I was still a dancer.”
After a long pause, she lifted her leg and rolled up her capris. There was a long surgical scar around her knee. “I hit my knees pretty hard that night. It isn’t strong enough for non-stop jumps anymore. I run and work out to strengthen it now. It will never be strong enough to dance professionally again.” She dropped her leg and took in the pained look on his face.
“Still want to be my friend, Max?” He nodded his head slowly. “I used to go to a lot of games and had season tickets for all the local teams. I’ve let those lapse, naturally.” He watched her take a deep breath. “My parents left me a cabin. I go hiking and camping, do a little fishing. I go to the gun range and take martial arts three times a week.”
“You’re like a small, pretty guy.”
Her soft chuckle made him want to hear her laugh. A big, loud one. “I guess you could look at it like that, Max. If that makes me being a chick who isn’t fucking you easier to handle.”
“We’ll get along great. I’m taking my family to dinner tonight. Why don’t you join us? No pressure. They feel terrible about this morning, my little brother especially. He’s a pediatrician, very non-threatening. My mom will kick my ass if I exhibit one second of bad behavior. What do you say?”
Josie took a long time to answer. “I guess that would be fine.”
“Great. Meet here, my place, or have us pick you up? Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Love of the Game - The Complete Collection (Box Set) Page 20