Playing for Keeps/Body Check (Rules of the Game) (20 page)

She hated the sound of her shaky voice as she slid out of his bed and followed him to the living room, the white sheet trailing after her like a shroud.

He turned, and still no smile, no humor, just Quinn, serious as a heart attack.

"If you want to call it that."

Her back went up. "You are the most stubborn man I've ever met. And I don’t like ultimatums."

He grabbed her arms and lifted her to meet his eyes. "Look, baby, I love you, I want you, but if you're not sure, I don’t know what to say. Bottom line, either you want to marry me or you don't. Which is it?"

"Well if you put it that way, I have to say no."

He threw up his hands. "I know you care for me, believe me, I know. But until you trust me with that love, we have nothing more to say to each other.” He walked away from her. "Now it's up to you. I'm not going to beg you to love me, to marry me. I don’t know what more I can do to convince you that I'm Quinn, not Andre."
 
He pointed to his chest. He shook his head sadly, then met her gaze, his eyes devoid of their usual spark. "You can let yourself out."

And there she stood, dressed in nothing but a sheet, still aching from his bruising kisses, her body still throbbing from the weight of his powerful body that had loved her all day, and all night long.

Had he just literally told her that until she agreed to marry him, they were done?

Mia couldn’t recall later how she made it to the bedroom, got dressed, and left his apartment.

Her Quinn was gone. In his place was a man she didn’t recognize. Her fun loving guy was gone, replaced by a man who didn’t get his way.

Entering a cab hailed for her by the doorman, Mia kept the tears at bay until she arrived home.

The minute she locked her door from the inside, she dropped her bag, ran to the bathroom, and became sick.

***

She'd been out of town for several days on business. She never turned on the television, but since she was the publicity director for the team, she kept in touch with Henry for scores, stats, everything she needed to know, without having to be with the team, especially Quinn.

Hockey season was winding down, and soon the Thunder would play its last game before the play offs began in mid-April.

Quinn hadn’t called her, and after the way she refused his proposal, she didn’t blame him.

She loved him, more than she loved to breathe, and he was lost to her.

Several times she began to text, or call, or e-mail him, but she either decided against it or was too swamped with work. She stayed at the office till late, then went home and went right to bed so she wouldn’t have to think about him.

She'd also received a call from a representative of the New Jersey Saints. To her surprise, the Saints organization offered her a job as publicity director.
 
Mia told them she'd think about it.

Maybe it was best to get away from Quinn and her father.

She couldn’t continue to do her job with The Thunder and have to see Quinn during the season. Her heart was breaking apart, bit by bit, and she didn’t think she could bear the pain any longer.

Just then, a knock on her office door, and her father walked in.

"Good morning, Mia. My assistant said you wanted to talk to me?"

Mia straightened and geared herself for this conversation.
 
"Yes, Dad, please sit down."

Her father touched her hand, but didn’t sit. "I heard you and Rafferty have broken up. For what it's worth, I'm sorry Mia."
 
 
 

It seemed word traveled fast.

"Thanks, Dad. That only makes this harder to say."

Her father faced her, frowning. "What's wrong, Mia?"

Mia swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "I've been offered a job with the Saints, and I'm considering it. Just thought you should know."

And suddenly, her father, the almighty Stonewall Sinclair, seemed small and insignificant.
 
"You're leaving our organization?"

She frowned, noticing a flicker of emotion and concern for the first time in years. "I didn’t think you'd really care if I stayed or not."

He brought his hand to his head, then finally sat. "Mia, sit down."

If he hadn't looked suddenly old and serious, she wouldn’t have obeyed him. But she sat, all the same.

"I know I've gone about this all wrong. Your mother tried to drum sense into me from the beginning, but I never listened."

Mia sat stone still, not believing the words coming from her father's mouth. Was he actually trying to make peace with her?

"All I ever wanted was the best for you; the best job, best schools, and of course, a man worthy of you.
 
Nothing was ever good enough for my princess."

Mia looked at him wide-eyed. He hadn’t called her his princess since she was a teenager. Since the divorce.

"Maybe I blamed you partly for the divorce, Mia. I don’t know. I just immersed myself in my work, and when I became general manager for the Thunder, I buried myself in responsibility, trying to hide the pain of the divorce."

"I know I handled the Andre situation badly, Mia. I regret that more than you'll ever know. I'm sorry."

You could have knocked Mia over with a feather. He was sorry? He was actually apologizing?
 
Actually admitting he was wrong?

"Then why, Dad? Why have you been giving me such a hard time since I joined the team? Why didn’t you deal with Andre the way I'd hoped you would?"

He stood again, placed his hands in his pants pockets and began to pace. "I did deal with him. You never knew."

What?
"Tell me."

 
He stopped pacing and turned toward her, his face pale and lined with stress and age.

"My lawyers fought with his father's attorneys for months, but in the end, his father called up the big guns. The best I could do was to get Andre reduced to a desk job for Toronto.
 
I also attempted to have him arrested, but our attorneys said that without you testifying, he was home free."

Mia watched him, speechless, mouth dry.

"I didn’t want you going to court, and at the mercy of his lawyers. I'm sorry about that too."

"You should have involved me, Dad.
 
Maybe he'd be in jail now."

 
"I'm so sorry, Mia. Seems I've always been better at business than at parenting."

That's when Mia realized that her father was growing old, and suddenly he was her 'Daddy' again. She walked into his open arms and collapsed against him. "All these years, why didn’t you just talk to me? I needed you so much after Mom left."

He nodded and tilted his head from her. "I handled everything wrong. Driving your mother away, being harder on you than I should have been. This is me, asking you, Mia, can you ever forgive me?"

She looked at him, the entire situation seeming surreal.
 
"We'll work on it, ok?" she answered truthfully, then managed a tiny smile through her unshed tears. J. P. did the same.

He stepped away from her and looked into her eyes.
 
"What happened with Rafferty?"

She shook her head, and her head hurt. "He kind of gave me an ultimatum. He wants to marry me, and I hesitated. He's very tenacious Dad, if you’ve noticed."

"He's lucky to have you. Shall I talk to him?"

"No, no thank you. It may be too late."

He nodded. "Please reconsider leaving the team, Mia. You're an integral part of this organization.
 
And…and you've done an excellent job; a wonderful job.
 
No matter what you think, I am proud of you."

"I've waited a long time to hear that, Dad. And as for New Jersey, I'll think about it, and let you know."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

J. P. nodded, then, surprise, surprise, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Just as an aside: Chase McCall, the general manager of the Saints?
 
He's a cheap asshole and doesn’t pay his people what they deserve."

"Always the businessman," she smiled and shook her head.

"Let's have dinner soon, ok princess?"

Mia nodded, and he left her office. She sank into her chair, deplete of strength and her mind reeling.

Fresh tears slid down her cheeks. Quinn invaded her mind and heart. She missed him so much. And yes, she loved him deeply. What could she do to take away the hurt she'd caused him?

Was it too late for them?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

New York Thunder Arena

April 6
th
– Last regular season game

Settling in to enjoy the last Thunder home game of the season from her father's private box, Mia sat nervous and jumpy, her arms draped across the cross bar in front of her.

The arena of more than seventeen thousand spectators was for the most part quiet, because, frankly, there was nothing to cheer about.

The Thunder were losing 1 – 0 with moments left in the game.

Playing the Chicago Chiefs, The Thunder looked tired and slow, probably due to the end of a grueling season. No excuses in hockey, though. Mia frowned, watching Quinn make save after save. He was the only reason the game was this close.

Elena sat next to her, quiet as well, until Adam Piersson, the Thunder's captain, was upended by an opponent's stick and went down.

"That's tripping ref," Elena called out, along with the rest of the crowd as the ref motioned the penalty of tripping to the opposing Chiefs player. Mia kept her seat however, staring at Quinn, missing him so much her chest actually hurt.

With the Chief's player off to the penalty box, The Thunder would have a man advantage on the ice for two minutes.
 
Enough time for them to score and tie the game.

Elena grabbed Mia's hand. "They have to win the last home game of the season."

Mia squeezed her friend's hand. "They have to tie it up first."

"If they win the face-off and get the puck to Adam, he can do it."

Mia smiled. "You seem to be his number one fan," she teased.

Elena didn’t answer as the linesman dropped the puck. Adam Piersson took immediate control of the puck, and circled around the opposing player, making his way down the ice, passing the puck back and forth to the center man, Greg Vail.

Mia and Elena instinctively stood and starting clapping their hands along with the crowd, cheering Piersson and Vail on as they charged the Chief's goal.

Piersson fell back to his defense position and Greg Vail expertly stick handled the puck to the left winger, Sergei Federov.
 
Back and forth across the ice, past the red line, past the opposing defensemen.
 
It was now a two on one, Vail to Federov, who faked out the defenseman, stick handled and caused the goaltender to come out of his net, and challenge the Thunder's captain and veteran player.

Federov was being covered by an opposing player, so he dropped the puck back where Piersson was in the clear. Mia watched Piersson slide the puck over to Vail, who easily pushed the puck from his stick and behind the Chief's goalie, into the net.

The red light glowed and the home crowd screamed with deafening cheers.

 
Piersson, Vail and Federov raised their sticks in the air, celebrating the goal that tied the game with less than a minute left.

Even Quinn had come out of his zone to skate over and congratulate his team on the goal they needed desperately.

Mia and Elena jumped up and down and hugged. "My gosh, what a play," Mia raised her voice above the cheers of the crowd.

"Told you Adam would do it," Elena said with certainty. "Piersson rocks."

Mia laughed and nodded. "Ok, we need another one.
 
If Vail wins the face off, we have a chance."

Elena nodded.
 
After the announcement of the goal and assist, with the crowd on their feet, the face-off came to center ice. Greg Vail won the face off.

The seconds ticked off.

Under a minute left.

The puck was stolen by a Chicago forward, and caught the Thunder off guard.

The opposing player flew toward Quinn on a break-away. Mia squeezed Elena's hand and her heart pounded. Come on Quinn, honey, you can do it, she thought as the player wound up for a blazing slap shot, targeting the net, and Quinn.

The puck hit Quinn's left pad, bounced off the cross bar, and landed right into his catching glove. Save.