To Win Her Smile

by Mackenzie Crowne

  Snapping her eyes open, she shoved aside the memory and drew the camera to her eye. She clicked several dozen photos before she got the shot she wanted. Studying the camera’s screen, she returned inside and slid the balcony door shut against the chilly breeze.

  This was what she needed. To be productive again. As much as she loved the manor, Moira was right when she’d commented that there were other things Piper would rather do with her life than play the proper baroness for their guests.

  Like her heart, Piper’s creativity had been locked away for three long years. Her heart had taken a beating at being released, but her artist’s eye gloried in the ability to wander free once again.

  She’d had no plan after signing her deal with Broderick and settling things with Abigail, other than to go where the wind blew. Surprisingly, the chilling breeze had blown her straight back to Manhattan. Temporarily, anyway. Although the impulse was probably childish and had definitely been rash, the instinct had been a good one. She’d needed closure, but she’d also needed to attend the Marauders’ game that first Sunday and every Sunday thereafter.

  Her photograph might have been the vehicle, but money was the driving force behind Abigail’s heartless actions. Money had ripped apart the world Piper had only just begun to believe in and caused the man she’d fallen in love with to turn his back on her. It was a matter of principle she earn every bloody shilling Wyatt had paid her, even if he was never aware of the fact. While there was nothing she could do about the calendar project, she could fulfill the promise to see the season through.

  As it turned out, someone else quickly became aware of her efforts.

  It seemed Karma enjoyed an occasional bit of mischief. Choosing a seat as far from the field as possible hadn’t produced the results Piper had hoped. But really, what were the odds several high rows of the middle balcony section of the stadium would be set aside for family and friends of the team’s volunteers? Or that Kip would stop by to visit with his father, sitting four rows below Piper, before the game?

  Concerned the young man would blab to Wyatt about her presence when that was the last thing she wanted, she’d asked Kip to meet her after the game. Over a slice of decadent cheesecake while awaiting his train back to Boston in Penn Station, she’d explained her convoluted reasoning for being at the game. She’d expected him to run straight to Wyatt and spill the beans. Instead, Kip had understood. He’d surprised her by insisting she make use of his season seat for the next game since his father wasn’t able to attend and it would be empty.

  The pattern repeated itself the following week. Two hours before kickoff, she found Kip waiting at the Will Call window to see her to her seat. With seven days before the next game, she’d flown back to Europe and spent the week wandering aimlessly with nothing but her camera for company. Two days in Amsterdam, the next in Paris. A stopover in Barcelona, then it was back to the States and Houston for the Marauders’ next gridiron battle.

  The next two and a half months had passed in a haze of football and constant travel. In the process, she was close to fulfilling her lucky charm promise and had produced what she hoped to form into a sort of photographic journey across the world. And she knew exactly who she wanted to help her promote it.

  She dialed CC’s number before she could change her mind.

  “Piper!” Her friend answered on the second ring. “Oh my God. Where have you been? Are you okay? Wyatt’s been...”

  “I love you, dearest, but before you say another word, I want your promise you won’t bring up his name.”

  “But...”

  “I mean it, CC. I’ve finally gotten to a place where I’m not constantly fantasizing about hiring a hitman to…take him out. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  CC surprised her by laughing, but then sighed. “Okay, whatever you want. How are you? Where are you? I’ve tried to call and so has Wy—er… Hmm. How are you?”

  So had Wyatt is what CC had been about to say. Piper didn’t need to be reminded. His first call had come the day after she’d sold the cliffs. She hadn’t answered, of course. As far as she was concerned, anything he had to say could be relayed through her attorney. She’d done nothing wrong. It might have taken her a while to get over the hurt, but she had eventually and what had been left behind was anger. Anger that he would think such a thing of her in the first place. That he’d refused to listen when she’d tried to explain.

  But what really made her mad was that he’d believed the word of the rag newspaper who’d printed the photograph over hers. She’d considered hiring that hitman for real after listening to Wyatt’s message saying he’d spoken to a contact at the Bugle and was sorrier than he could express. He’d screwed up, he’d said, should have trusted her, and could they talk.

  She’d changed her phone number that very day.

  Gritting her teeth, she dragged in several calming breaths and shoved Wyatt, the bloody wanker, to the back of her mind.

  “I’m doing quite well, actually. I’ve been working again. Really working, and it feels fabulous.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Piper,” CC said softly.

  Piper had to clear her throat. “Which is the reason for my call.” She explained her idea for a traveling display featuring her photographs and asked if a show of its type was something CC would welcome in her gallery.

  “Are you kidding? I’d love it. What’s more, I know quite a few gallery owners who might be interested in such a project.”

  Excitement danced up Piper’s spine. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “How soon can we meet so I can take a look at the work?”

  The dancing tingle in Piper’s spine screeched to a halt like someone had switched off the music. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friend, but CC loved her husband, and Tuck was one of Wyatt’s best friends. Piper would rather avoid any accidental-on-purpose chance meetings if she could.

  “I’m afraid meeting physically will be impossible as I’ll be on another continent for the next little while. However, I can e-mail the files directly to you so you can check them out.” She bit her tongue at the flat-out lie, and shot a silent prayer for forgiveness toward heaven. Christmas and the New Year had come and gone, but for those who followed football, the true holiday season was about to begin. She’d be in Manhattan for the divisional round game next weekend and, hopefully, the conference championship the week after that.

  “That’s fine, of course, but…” CC’s disappointment was evident in her tone, and it wasn’t in her to hedge. She normally spoke her mind. The fact that she would hesitate now was enough to put Piper on edge.

  “What is it you aren’t saying, CC?”

  “You told me not to bring up his name.”

  Piper slid her eyelids shut. This was the reason she’d been reluctant to speak to CC all these past months. They’d known each other since they were little girls, when CC had arrived in Italy timid and skittish after she’d been kidnapped and her father had used the notoriety of the abduction to jumpstart his lagging rock ‘n’ roll career.

  Despite her youth, Piper had recognized the fragility of the friend she’d met on the beach. She liked to believe she’d played a small role in CC’s recovery but, the truth was, the skinny girl with haunted eyes was one of the strongest people Piper had ever met. CC had managed to claw her way back from the horror she’d survived with little help from others. That kind of strength was rare in this world, and Piper had never been able to deny her anything.

  “What’s on your mind, dearest?”

  “You,” CC said softly. “And Wyatt. You know I love you, but this situation has hurt you both.”

  Piper somehow contained the gasp that wanted to come and clamped down on the angry tears stinging the back of her nose and throat. “Situation? CC, what he accused me of was filthy and unforgiveable.”

  “Yes, it was, and he was wrong. Terribly so. He mad
e a mistake, Piper, and he knows it.” Another hesitation, then, “I’ve never seen him like this.”

  Despite the renewed pain squeezing her heart, Piper was curious. “Like what?”

  “Like he no longer cares. I’ve known him for a long time. Football is everything to him. The team is two games away from doing something no other has. Tuck can barely contain himself, yet Wyatt can’t seem to work up the enthusiasm he’s always shared with his teammates.”

  Piper frowned. He certainly hadn’t looked like he didn’t care to her. Whatever CC was seeing, it hadn’t shown up on the field. Focused as usual and supremely talented, he and his teammate friends had spent the season taking apart respectable offensive and defensive lines as if they weren’t in the same league.

  “I miss his smile, Piper, and I miss you.” CC’s sigh was long. “I’m afraid I won’t see either again unless the two of you work things out.”

  Breathing was difficult. Piper shook her head, then pressed her fist to the bridge of her nose. “Give it time, dearest. You’ll see me again, and Wyatt will find his smile once he’s done what he’s set out to do.”

  Chapter 25

  “I’m sorry, but the lass doesna want to be found. Every time I ask her where she is, she says she’s fine and refuses to say more.” A sigh, then, “Ach. The past three years have been a trial for the lass, what with the world dumpin’ a load of trouble on to her wee shoulders by takin’ her da and threatenin’ to steal her manor. She carried the load like the lady she was born to be and deserves some time to herself to mourn all she’s lost. She’ll come home when she’s ready.”

  Wyatt scraped a palm over his face. After nearly three months, he was losing his mind. “Thanks, Angus. As usual, I appreciate you letting me know she’s okay.”

  He disconnected the call and dropped his head to the back of the couch. The guilt of knowing he’d contributed to the load she’d carried tangled with frustration to tie his guts into knots. But whatever emotion her absence from his life had delivered at any given time, none came close to the pain of missing her—except maybe the agony of knowing what she’d given up because of him.

  He blinked at the ceiling and breathed through the band of anguish that compressed his chest every time he thought of that fucking deal she’d made with Broderick Faulkner. According to Angus, the manor house and most of the land remained in her possession, but Christ. She’d given up her beloved cliffs. Damn it, but for one photograph, she’d completed the job Wyatt had hired her to do. Yet, rather than accept another dime from him, she’d sacrificed the place where she and her father had shared their dreams.

  The fact that she had was a hard pill to swallow and made it clear how badly he’d fucked up.

  After years of condemning his father for his paranoid judgment of everyone around him, Wyatt had reacted little better. In a fit of rage and fear, he’d ignored everything his heart knew about the kind of woman Piper was. He dragged a palm down his face. Jesus, he loved her. He loved Piper Darrow, but instead of giving her the benefit of the doubt, he’d behaved like a prick, and the best damn thing that had ever come into his life had walked out without a backward glance.

  The irony of how well things had worked out for everyone other than Piper wasn’t lost on him. After a brief period of panic, Meg had taken advantage of the public nature of the Bugle’s exposé to force their father to accept the reality of his granddaughter’s existence. That Mandy was little more than a campaign prop to his father made Wyatt’s stomach turn but, just as he’d predicted, the campaign had spun the story to their advantage. They’d even seen a significant bump in the polls as a result.

  As for Wyatt himself, professionally, things couldn’t have gone any better. As if fate had stepped in to see history done, he and the Marauders had marched forward, blowing through teams in their pursuit of a third consecutive Super Bowl. The whispers of a possible perfect season had grown with each additional win until they had become an earsplitting roar. With the playoffs underway this week, even his most ardent detractors had been caught up in the frenzy of positive speculation over the team’s odds of pulling off the impossible.

  But, personally…Without Piper to share it with, his dream season had become nothing more than a weekly rehash of the same hollow achievement. Too late, he’d realized he’d held everything he ever wanted in his hands and had thrown it all away when he’d let her walk out of his life instead of standing by her side. He loved her and had to make things right between them but, to do that, he’d need to find her first. In the past three months, he hadn’t come close.

  Thanks to Faulkner, she now had millions at her disposal and could go anywhere in the world she wanted. Apparently, that was exactly what she was doing. Like Angus and Moira, CC Tucker swore she had no idea of her friend’s location, but from the photographs Piper had contracted CC to show in her downtown studio beginning last week, his duchess had been on the move with stops in Sydney, Tokyo, Athens, New Orleans, San Francisco, and Boston.

  The soft buzz of the doorbell drew him from his musings, and he climbed to his feet. Not many knew of the loft’s existence, and those who did, knew to call before showing up. He frowned as he stalked to the reading nook to retrieve his tablet. Swiping his fingertip over the blackened screen, he swore beneath his breath at the video of the half dozen people caught by the camera outside the small lobby downstairs.

  On the tablet’s screen, he watched V poke at the panel beside the door. The buzzing resumed and, with a shake of his head, he cued the intercom. “I’m not home.”

  “Then you should definitely let us in.” Tuck looked straight at the camera lens and smirked. “I think you’re being robbed. Some asshole just answered your doorbell.”

  Sam Fitzpatrick shook his head and smiled. CC elbowed her husband as Jake and Gracie Malone laughed.

  V rolled her eyes, then managed to knock the breath from Wyatt from two floors below. “If you want to know where Piper is, open the door.” She smiled smugly as he swiped at the tablet and the outer lock clicked open.

  “Where is she?” he demanded the moment the elevator doors whooshed apart.

  “Hold your horses, big guy.” A very pregnant Gracie Malone was the first off the elevator car. She glanced around the loft with a wrinkle creasing her brow while shedding her winter coat. “Where’s the bathroom? I have to pee.”

  Wyatt pointed to the far wall without taking his eyes from V.

  “Don’t say a word until I’m back.” Gracie wagged a finger at V before hurrying off.

  He glared at her back. After all this time, he finally had a clue to Piper’s location and they wanted him to wait?

  V squeezed his arm in reassurance as the others filed into the loft behind her and peeled out of their heavy coats. “Breathe, Wyatt. Piper’s not going anywhere in the next five minutes.”

  “Who wants a beer?” Tuck made himself at home behind the bar.

  “It’s ten o’clock on a Monday morning,” CC pointed out.

  Tuck met Jake’s gaze, then Sam’s. “Bloody Mary?”

  Jake snickered while Sam grinned, but they both nodded. Tuck turned to Wyatt with a questioning arch of his brow.

  Wyatt scowled. “Am I going to need alcohol for this conversation?”

  “It’s a definite possibility.”

  Fuck. “Make mine a double.”

  “What did I miss?” Gracie hurried toward them from the far end of the room.

  Tension bunched Wyatt’s shoulders as he turned an impatient glare on V. She, however, was busy digging through her purse.

  “Tuck is playing bartender,” CC answered.

  Gracie joined Jake on the couch. “It’s not even noon.”

  CC eyed Tuck and held up her hands as if to say I rest my case.

  “Bloody Marys don’t count.” Tuck smirked and handed Sam and Jake their drinks. “They’re a breakfast beverage.”


  Wyatt’s patience hit the wall. “For fuck’s sake, enough already. Where is she, V?”

  V squinted at him while handing Sam a disk she pulled from her bag. As a friend as well as the team’s offensive coordinator, Sam had spent many an hour with Wyatt studying game tapes over pizza and beer. He knew his way around the loft’s top of the line media center.

  “At this exact moment,” V said as Sam slid the disc into the Blu Ray, “I can’t honestly say where Piper is.”

  Disappointment nearly knocked the wind out of Wyatt. He scrubbed a hand down his face.

  “But I believe I know where she’ll be next Sunday.”

  Wyatt dropped his arm to his side. “How could you possibly know that? Have you spoken to her?”

  “No. I told you, the only communication I’ve had with her has been via e-mail, but I have spoken to Gracie and she’s spoken to Kip.”

  Wyatt shot a quick glance Gracie’s way. What the fuck did Kip have to do with anything?

  Tuck rounded the bar and handed Wyatt his drink. “The kid has been in touch with Piper all along.”

  “What?” Wyatt whipped his head around as Tuck took a seat next to his wife. “How? Where?”

  Sam cued the DVD. “At the Marauders’ sports complex.”

  CC nodded. “It seems she’s been in the stands for every game this season.”

  Wyatt’s gaze bounced from one friend to another, but he found no answer to the question burning in his mind. What the hell was she doing at the Marauders’ games? It wasn’t as if she was a fan particularly. She’d known nothing about football when they’d first met and had only agreed to be on the field as part of the job. But the job was no longer a consideration, and she’d made it more than clear she wanted nothing to do with him.

  He studied what looked like a security tape running on the TV, and sure enough. There was Piper walking along an inner corridor of the stadium with Kip. Wyatt squinted, attempting make out their location.

  “Where is that?”

  “Upper terrace level, north corner end zone.” V turned to Wyatt. “Caroline doesn’t advertise the perk but, each season, she makes a block in that section available to the on-field volunteers. Each receives a not-for-resale seat to share with a family member or friend. Kip normally gives his seat to his dad.”