Head Over Heels (4 page)

“I can do that or I can make something up.”

Thane stopped at her threat. He wished he could be more like his brothers. They didn’t care about doing interviews or how the media portrayed them. Not Thane. Call it his overwhelming need to please, but he hated the idea that he could craft his image but didn’t.

He turned to her. “Whether I stay here or not, you were going to do that anyway, right?”

She smirked and shrugged. “I’m a good writer. I’m an honest journalist. I would rather tell the story of a hot, young major league pitcher than one about the irresponsible player who arrived late for the interview to only bail with a flimsy excuse.”

“I’ve been called worse.” Flames encircled Thane’s head. “And it’s not an ex—”

“Let’s talk.” She headed toward the elevator. “We can do the interview in your room while you pack. You can tell me about this mysterious illness that you may or may not have that the keeps popping up in the rumor mill.”

Thane wouldn’t be talking about that. He’d worn the right outfit and splashed on some expensive cologne in order to make himself more appealing to this writer so that he could avoid talking about the personal problems plaguing him. Before he could respond, she gave him another option.

She put her hand on his arm. “Or you can come to my room.”

Thane recognized where she wanted this to go. Ordinarily, an invitation like that would get his lower half tingling. Right now, he only felt numb. He didn’t know his mother’s status, and he couldn’t rely on Gunnar to share any information.

He pointed to the hotel’s dimly lit bar. “We can go in there to talk. We can get right to the interview so that you can get home to your husband.”

That got the brown-eyed beauty to smile. “I’m not married.”

Thane feigned surprise. “No man has captured you yet, huh? Boyfriend, right?” He put his hand to the small of her back to help guide her. The less complications he had in his life the better.

“Nope. No boyfriend either.” She walked next to him as they stepped into the bar.

Couples and groups littered tables, keeping their heads hung low to hold intimate conversations with each other. Popular music thumped through the place to keep the gyrating bodies on the tiled, square space in the front of the room moving, twisting, and waving back and forth. Thane saw them simulating sex on the dance floor. He kept his attention directed to an empty table in the back of the room.

During his trek, he leaned down and whispered, “Girlfriend?”

That got her to laugh out loud, an almost donkey-sounding guffaw that drew the attention of several patrons in the bar. Thane had to remember not to make the mistake of amusing her again.

“Mr. Wells.” She shook her head as he held out a chair for her at a back booth.

“Call me Thane.” He made sure to get her comfortable before he occupied a seat across from her.

“Ah, if we’re on a first-name basis, call me Lora Ann.” She held out her hand to him.

“Good.” He shook her hand, careful not to get too intimate too quickly. “Let’s get this started so I can get going.”

Putting his hand on her back had been pushing the familiarity level, but he knew the touch would make her comfortable with him. He could tell under her conservative pantsuit she hid the body of a tall, lithe cheerleader. If he had more time, he could think about having her long legs wrapped around his body. He didn’t want to hear her talking though.

“Shall we get started?” She took out a small digital recorder.

“Is this the way you always do business? By blackmail?”
And drunk
, he wanted to add. He punctuated his query with a smile.

She crossed her legs and leaned back. “No. I have other methods of persuasion in my arsenal.”

Sex, of course. Thane kept his face stoic as he regarded her. He didn’t need to tip her off to what he thought of her interview tactics. Plus, he needed to do this interview quickly.

Lora Ann ordered herself a drink before she dove into questioning. “First things first. How is your family?”

Lora Ann’s question shouldn’t have disarmed Thane, but he felt his gut tighten at her inquiry. He shook off his nerves to bring out his business side.

“Gunnar is his normal fighting self.” He didn’t have to reveal the nasty blowout he had with his stubborn, judgmental brother.

“The ultimate fighting world will be glad to hear that, although I’m still shocked he’s not coming back to the sport. Rumor has it his own manager arranged the hit against him. Is that true?” She nudged the recorder closer to Thane and took a lengthy sip of her Long Island iced tea.

“You’ll have to ask Gunnar about that.” Thane couldn’t answer anything about his combative brother, even if he did want to reveal some of his secrets. “Gideon is resting up so that his body can properly heal. But I’m sure he’ll be back next season a stronger and faster athlete.”

“It’s great that his team is supporting him. I saw Dennis the Menace’s press conference yesterday. He said some pretty nice things about your quarterback brother. Did you catch it?” Lora Ann ordered a second drink before Thane even tasted his ginger ale.

“No, I missed that. Traveling at the time, I think.” He stared at her empty glass. “Thirsty?”

“Very.” She ran her tongue over her lips. “And your mother? You mentioned something about her earlier.”

Thane glanced down at the recording device. “Let’s keep this interview on me.”

A waitress placed a second drink in front of her. This time, Lora Ann went for a white wine.

Lora Ann giggled as she picked up her glass. “Fine. Let’s talk about your agent. Word on the street is he’s looking to retire soon.”

Alec Fogel had been the mastermind behind some of the greatest athletes in professional sports history in all fields. Thane considered himself lucky to have even caught the old man’s notice. At the time, Thane had been a senior at Northwestern University. He had always thought Alec had only wanted to sign him because he liked Elizabeth. The old man fawned over her at every meeting.

“Did you hear that from Alec?” Thane twirled his frosty glass between his hands.

“I didn’t ask him.” She took a healthy gulp of her wine and held on to the glass. “I wanted to hear what you thought.”

“I think my skills and talents as a pitcher got me to where I am today. It’s those skills that will keep me in this sport for a long time.” He watched her finish off her drink and signal for a third. “And I think you might have had enough to drink.”

Lora Ann raised her eyebrows. “A caring, compassionate baseball player.” She puffed out a sloppy chortle, one complete with a bit of slobber that oozed from the side of her mouth. “Stick with the bad-boy persona. It works better for you.”

Thane shook his head. “This interview is over.” He threw a hundred-dollar bill on the table before standing. “I would strongly suggest you sleep off your single-girl party.” He started to walk by her when he stopped and glared down at her. “Write anything negative about me, and I’ll have my attorney all over you and your magazine faster than you’ve been pounding back drinks.”

Thane walked out of the bar and went to the elevator.

“Wait!”

He pressed the
up
button as soon as he heard the shrieking cry behind him, but he didn’t bother turning around. His efforts to present a pleasant demeanor didn’t make a bit of difference.

“Please, Mr. Wells.” Lora Ann gripped his arm.

He turned to her for a brief moment. The desperation that filled her eyes covered their previously blood-shot appearance. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I was nervous to meet you so I drank to take the edge off.”

“Are you feeling smooth now?” Thane kept his disapproving stare on her even when the elevator doors opened.

“Not really.” She wobbled back and forth on her feet before she nearly hit the floor.

With his gentlemanly nature kicking in in full force, he darted to her in enough time to scoop her up in his arms. “Let’s get you back to your room and into bed.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” She covered her face with her hand and cried.

Thankfully, no one else occupied the elevator. Her cry sounded as loud and annoying as her laugh. Like a baby, he continued to cradle her.

“What’s your floor?” he asked.

“Nineteen.”

Great. Same as his. He waited until the elevator stopped before he set her on her feet and draped her arm around his shoulders.

“What room?” He peered down the hallway, hoping that her room wouldn’t be far.

Lora Ann dove into her purse and pulled out her room key card. “What’s it say?”

Damn, she couldn’t even remember her room number? Thane could only imagine what would have happened had she been with the wrong athlete tonight or the wrong type of man, one who would take advantage of her weakened state.

He glanced at the card. Thane rolled his eyes. Her room sat only two doors down from his. “This way.”

Thane passed his room as he headed to hers. Once there, he slid her card into the reader and waited for it to flash green before he opened the door. He helped her inside, keeping her propped up while she stumbled. He got her to bed. She sat, the top half of her body swaying back and forth.

“You were supposed to be my first really big interview with a baseball player, and I screwed it up.” She placed her hand on her forehead. “They’ll never trust me to go out of town again to get a story like this.” She peered up at him. “I am so sorry.”

Thane thought about correcting her use of the term. His mother always told him and his brothers that you should always say that you apologize. Being sorry meant that your personal state lacked character and had nothing to do with your feelings. As he stared at her, he figured in this case, the statement rang true.

Lora Ann’s blond hair looked messy, like she’d already been to bed. He now noticed the pantsuit he’d thought made her look professional had been buttoned incorrectly. Had he been really observant down in the bar, he would have noticed she had her pants zipper halfway down.

Thane lifted her feet so she could lie down. “Get some sleep.” He ran his hand over his hair. “Call my manager in the morning and tell him I was a no show. Arrange for another interview. You come there drunk again, and God help you.”

Lora Ann’s face screwed up into an unpleasant expression like she wanted to cry before her eyes widened and she leapt off the bed. She rushed past Thane to the bathroom where she hung her head over the toilet and purged her guts.

Although not interested in seeing a woman getting sick, Thane couldn’t help but stand in the doorway to check on her. “You going to be okay?” He picked up a glass next to the sink and filled it with water. “I hate to leave you like this.” He handed it to her.

“Will you stay with me for a little while?” She held the glass with both hands and drank from it.

“I can’t. I need to go. My family—”

“I know. I know. I shouldn’t have asked.” She waved her hand in the air.

Holding the glass with only one hand weakened her grasp. She dropped it to the floor. It shattered into large sharp shards around her knees.

“Shit!” She reached for a piece and quickly drew her hand back like she’d been bitten.

“Don’t move.” Thane saw the bright red trail of blood sliding down from her palm to her wrist. He held her arm up and grabbed a towel to stop the bleeding. “I’ll have them call for an ambulance to take you to the hospital.”

Lora Ann could be someone else’s burden tonight.

“No! Please! It’s bad enough my magazine paid for this room and I’m coming back with no story. If they find out I got drunk, got sick in front of you, and cut myself, I’ll be so fired.” With her free hand, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Please, can you help me? I swear I’ll do you right on the interview.”

Thane had less interest in how he would be portrayed than getting home. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head, telling him to help this woman. Be a gentleman.

“Let me clean up this glass first, and then we’ll get you back to bed. As soon as I get this cut dressed and you get to sleep, I’m out of here.” He crouched down and started dumping the broken glass into a nearby trashcan.

“Understood. Thank you so much.” She patted his shoulder.

As soon as he had all the large pieces removed, he wiped the floor with a towel and shoved it next to the commode, making sure to sweep away all of the glass slivers. He helped her to her feet and picked her up in his arms. He didn’t need her injuring herself again by stepping on pieces of glass.

He placed her on the bed again. “I’ll be back.” Thane left the room and went to his own.

As a baseball player, he’d gotten used to having the occasional abrasion. He couldn’t run to the hospital with every scrape and cut. He pulled out his travel-size first-aid kit from his suitcase and went back to Lora Ann’s room. He placed her room card key on the nightstand next to her. He didn’t want to have it on him any longer than he needed.

Thane took off his jacket. He should have removed it in his room but he hadn’t thought about his own comfort then. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves.

“Wow, you are very thorough.” Lora Ann sobered up to the situation as she watched him.

“I have to be.” He removed the towel from her hand. “Baseball is a team sport, but after the game, you’re on your own.”

“You seem pretty close to your family.” She smiled.

Thane didn’t answer. He cleaned her wound, which had at least stopped bleeding. With the blood cleared, he saw that she hadn’t cut herself too deeply. He placed a sterilized pad over it and taped it down.

“That should hold you, but you may want to see someone about it if it gets irritated.” Thane removed his gloves and prepared to leave again.

“Wait.” Lora Ann grabbed his arm with her unaffected hand. “Will you wait here with me until I at least fall asleep?”

“I really should—”

She cut him off. “Please? I don’t want to vomit in my sleep and choke on it.”

Thane had an answer ready for her for that situation. She needed hospital care. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to be her babysitter. Again, the voice of his reasonable mother filled his head.