Body Check (32 page)

“Thank you,” Ty replied graciously. Janna followed him out to the dark, brick courtyard, ignoring the waitress's eyes burning a hole in her back.

The night air was cool and clear, carrying the faintest hint of spring and April showers, which had been abundant. A breeze picked up, sending dead leaves swirling around their feet as they walked to the far side of the courtyard. Janna paused a moment to listen to the sounds of the city: conversation, traffic, distant music, the rush of wind, all of it melding together at once into one beautiful, metropolitan chord she never tired of.

“I hope the guys enjoy the extra carrots,” Ty cracked as he guided Janna toward the wall and wrapped his arms around her.

“You've had too much to drink,” she replied. The brick felt cold against her back. “You realize that, don't you? You would never do anything like this if you were sober.”

He nuzzled her neck. “Would you prefer we go back inside?”

“No,” she admitted, looping her arms around his neck. “But I'm nervous.”

“You worry too much, you know that?” He kissed her forehead. “Let's just have fun.”

Fun
. Pain corkscrewed through Janna's heart as he dipped his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply. To him this was fun. To her it was love. She knew she'd broken the rules by letting her emotions move beyond the casual, but still, couldn't he throw her a bone? At least acknowledge what she'd said to him in the lobby that day? Even if only to say, “Thanks, I'm flattered, but I don't feel the same.” His silence on the subject hurt deeply. Then again, she hadn't exactly given him a chance to answer, had she, blurting the words out over her shoulder while she hopped in the cab? Hadn't that been deliberate, a way to avoid rejection? As their kiss deepened and his hand skillfully crept up beneath her skirt, warming her thighs with his touch, Janna once again found herself thinking that if this was all he could give, she would take it, because this was better than nothing.

She tried to relax, to enjoy the crystalline pressure building within her as he caressed her body. But when another gust of wind sent some leaves dancing, she tensed.

“What?” Ty murmured.

“Nothing,” she assured him.

But there was something. Still locked in Ty's embrace, she sensed movement in the darkness, heard the faint crunching of leaves as if someone were tiptoeing and didn't want to make too much noise crushing them underfoot. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

“Someone's watching,” she whispered, indelicately pushing him away.

“You're nuts,” said Ty, craning his neck to look behind them. “There's nobody here.”

She peered out beyond his shoulder into the darkness of the courtyard, trying to see . . . what? Maybe Ty was right. Maybe her imagination was playing tricks on her.

“I think we should go back inside,” she said uneasily.

“In a minute,” was Ty's unperturbed response. He gathered her up in his arms again. “I don't think you've been kissed enough.”

His kiss was unabashedly tender and loving, so much so that Janna willingly put aside her fears of being observed and allowed herself to be carried away, eyes closed and body languid. But then she heard it. The careful, quiet closing of the screen door leading back into the kitchen. Her eyes sprang open; the courtyard was empty.

Whoever had been watching them was gone.

 

 

 

 

Rather than question
Cowley in the office, Janna decided to express her displeasure about his shirking the party over a nice lunch. Hopefully, he would see her invitation as a gesture of goodwill, indicating they both needed to rise to the occasion and work together while Lou was recovering.

She'd chosen a restaurant called Bella's on Sixty-sixth and Central Park West, a favorite from her days at the soap. It was a large, multileveled space serving upscale Italian food, its main clientele actors and staff from the nearby television complex. She and Theresa referred to it as “Little Versailles” since it was all marble, mirrors, gilt and glass. Some of the actors who dined there would stare at their own image multiplied many times over. It was an egotist's dream. Janna had no doubt Jack Cowley would feel right at home.

They began their meal by politely going over business, Cowley ordering two martinis in a row, while Janna sipped Pellegrino and waited for the right time to bring up the party issue.

“You know,” she began, gently putting her water glass down, “I really think the two of us have been doing a great job since Lou's been out.”

“But—?” Cowley's tone was sarcastic. “There is a but coming, isn't there?”

“Yes, there is.” Janna refused to be cowed. “You should have been at the victory party Saturday night.”

“Because—?”

“Because it shows support for the team, and that's part of our job, whether you like it or not. Why weren't you there?”

“Honestly?” Cowley ran a thin finger around the rim of his martini glass. “Because I'd rather have a colonoscopy than whoop it up with the goon squad.”

“Those ‘goons' are your job.” Janna reached for a piece of foccacia and dipped it in the shallow bowl of olive oil at the center of the table. “Don't do it again, okay?”

“Is that a command?”

“It's a request.”

“You're the boss,” Cowley replied, carefully plucking the green olive from his martini glass. He held it up, examining it as if it were a precious jewel. “But not for long.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“How long have you been screwing Gallagher, if you don't mind me asking? Weeks? Months?” His lips curled into a reptilian smile as he popped the olive into his mouth.

She did her best not to react visibly, but her body betrayed her and mortification heated her cheeks. If she tried to deny it, Cowley would just laugh.

“That's none of your business,” she replied tersely. She lifted her water glass to her lips, nervous she might choke, or worse, break the stem of the glass, she was gripping it so tightly.

“Oh, but it is. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I could swear Lou warned you that if you ever dated anyone on the team, you'd be history. Am I wrong?”

A swarm of bees seemed to have taken up residence in her skull, buzzing all at once, drowning out her ability to reason and focus. “How did you find out?” she asked faintly. Her voice sounded distant to her ears.

A look of perverse pleasure overtook Cowley's face. “Let's just say a little Russian bird told me.”

Lubov. In the courtyard. That's who'd been watching them!
Payback time for both her and Ty.
Stupid. Stupid and careless
. She should never have agreed to go out in that courtyard with him, never. He was buzzed and horny, not thinking straight. But she was sober. No excuse. And now . . .

“The way I see it, you have two options. You can remain interim head of PR, in which case I will tell Lou and Corporate that you're having an affair with the captain and they will fire you. Or, you can go to Corporate, tell them you're not quite up to the responsibility of filling in for Lou, and step down—recommending me in your place, of course.”

Janna stared hard at the bread plate before her. “If I do that,” she asked slowly, “how do I know you still won't turn around and tell Lou about me and Ty?”

Cowley's eyes lit up as he smacked the table with delight. “Damn, I hadn't thought of that! Thanks for suggesting it.”

“You bastard,” Janna hissed. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Give me one reason not to.”

“I could deny it. Lou would believe me before he'd believe you.”

“Do you really want to butt heads with me on this, Janna?” Cowley asked condescendingly. “You saw how much I was able to dig up on your little friend, Theresa. Do you really want me to do the same to you? Have you thought about how much it might upset Lou to see pictures of you and Gallagher
inflagrante delicto
, taken at night with a telephoto lens? Why, it could cause another heart attack.”

“You're sick, you know that?”

“No, I just want what's rightfully mine, that's all.”

Janna put a sweating palm to her forehead. The bees were getting louder. “I need time to think about this.”

Cowley pushed up the sleeve of his jacket and lifted his wrist eye level, the better to read his watch. “You have thirty seconds.”

“I mean it, Jack,” Janna snapped.

“Fine. If you need a day or two to think about the exact words you're going to use when you tell Corporate you're stepping down, I'll allow it.”

Janna reached for more water, wishing now that she'd ordered something stronger. “If I do what you want,” she said carefully, working hard to keep her hand from shaking, “do you promise you won't say a word to Lou about my personal life?”

“Can't stand the thought of the old man knowing you're a puck bunny just like the rest of them, can you?”

“Answer me.” The thought of somehow disappointing Lou was too much to bear.

Cowley smirked. “Perhaps we could work something out.”

“I want a guarantee.”

“There are no guarantees in life, Miss MacNeil. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?”

Janna stared at him. He stared back. She could sit like this forever if she needed to.

Finally, it was Cowley who broke eye contact.

“All right,” he said with a phony sigh. “
If
you do as I ask, I won't tell Lou about your tawdry liaison with Gallagher. But—and now it's my turn for a ‘but,' Janna dear—I meant what I said a few months back. If you get in my way again, or persist in trying to outshine me, I will destroy you. Understood?”

Janna nodded tersely.

“Good. Shall we order lunch, then?”

 

 

The next morning,
Janna took a personal day and drove up to her parents' house. The garden she and her father so carefully cultivated each year was where she did her best thinking, and she needed to be there. Needed to get her hands in the dirt and pull and trim and cut. Next week, when the Playoffs started, she'd barely have time to breathe, never mind take a day off to safeguard her mental health.

As expected, there was no one home. Her father was off at work, Wills was at school, and her mother was out on a standing breakfast date, which would no doubt be followed by a standing tennis date, a standing lunch date, and a standing shopping date. With any luck, she'd be able to work in the garden undisturbed until Wills bopped home from school around three or so.

She parked the car at the end of the long, circular drive, going first to inspect the scalloped beds of heart-leafed brunera, and then to the azalea bushes in front of the house. Both plants boasted tiny, green buds struggling to debut, though it would be at least another three weeks or so before the azalea, with its brilliant fuschia glow, began to bloom. Her mood lightened as she noticed that her father had already done the work of raking out the beds and putting down some Milorganite, a fertilizer that doubled as a deer deterrent.
So much for the front
, she thought, heading around to the back.

The flower beds surrounding the vast patio had yet to be raked, so she would deal with those first. She walked down the sloping back lawn to her father's shed and fetched her old gardening gloves, as well as a pair of shears and the tiny, plastic green rake he had taught her to use as a little girl. Then she trudged back up the slope and painstakingly began raking the first bed, careful not to damage the new shoots coming up. She was still wrestling with her decision: tell Jack Cowley to take a flying hike, or step down.

The way she saw it, she was in a no-win situation. If she refused to step down, Cowley would tell Corporate about her and Ty, and her reputation would be shot, her credibility questioned. She might even get fired. Plus, there was the issue of the media. If she remained in Lou's position for the time being, was she prepared for the blitz of attention that would surround her and Ty once Cowley went blabbing to the press? For a few days at least, it would be a nightmare. She knew she'd be able to handle it. But would Ty?

Her other option, bowing to Cowley's threat, was tantamount to committing career suicide. It didn't take brains to see that backing out of a promotion, even a temporary one, was not a good career move. Corporate would think she was weak, that she couldn't handle the pressure, that she wasn't the “go-getter” Lou had been raving to them about. It was likely she would never be promoted again, and could even find herself demoted. Stepping down was the coward's way out.

What if she went to Corporate and told them outright that Cowley was threatening her, she wondered, as she moved to rake the next bed. Would they believe her? Or would she be labeled a “trouble” employee? The whole situation made her furious. She deserved to be the one filling in for Lou! She'd busted her butt all year long, and she was great at what she did. That's why they'd hired her in the first place—hired
her
, specifically, to spruce up the team's image. And she'd done it, too, done it fast and done it well. And to think all that hard work might come to naught because she and Ty had been stupid and indiscreet.

She put the rake aside, and dropping to her knees on the moist grass, took up the shears and began cutting back the dead peonies and English daisies. She should probably never have gotten involved with Ty. She remembered telling Theresa, way back in the fall when she and Ty had first started fooling around, that she wanted to keep things casual because she needed to keep focused on her career. And what had Theresa's response been? That she was a liar and wanted a relationship with him. Just like Theresa to know her better than she knew herself.