Play to Win (3 page)

“What happened to the man?” I asked.

“I made him understand that messing with me was a bad idea,” he replied evenly.

I decided I didn't want to know the details.

“I never thanked you for coming for me,” I said, changing the subject. “I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up.” Somehow I doubted I'd have survived the night with Leo.

“I'm glad I was in a position and had the resources to get you out of there,” he said. “And no thanks is required. You're my daughter.”

A moment of understanding passed between us. Although my dad was not much of a demonstrative man, I could appreciate what he wasn't saying.

“So now that you've quit your job, what are you going to do?” he asked.

It was my turn to shrug. “I don't know. Thought I'd try the museum again.” Though without any kind of an “in” there, I didn't think my chances of landing a job were that good.

“You can come work for me,” he offered.

I raised an eyebrow. “Work for you? Doing what?”

“Learning the business,” he said. “You're our only child. I'd like to leave you my business and keep it in the family rather than eventually sell it.”

I thought about this. I'd learned a lot at KLP over the past couple of years, especially by working for Parker. I liked business, and knowing I'd be working on a company that my father had started and grown from the ground up made it personal. A little flame of interest and eagerness lit in my belly.

“Is this a temporary thing or permanent?” I didn't want to get all excited about a new career if Dad just wanted to give me something to do to distract me from my heartbreak.

“It's whatever you want it to be.”

Fair enough. “Okay,” I said. “What do I do?”

My father was beaming. “You'll work downtown at the main office,” he said. “I'll have Charlie start training you and you can shadow him.”

Charlie was my dad's second-in-command and had been working for him forever.

“I'm usually in the office a couple days a week,” he continued. “I can teach you more then. So when do you want to start?”

“Monday, I guess,” I said. That would give me the weekend to get back to my apartment and back to real life. The thought of going back home wasn't as depressing as it had been before, and the thought of a new job in a new career perked me up.

“Wonderful. I'll make it happen.”

I stood, rounding the desk to give my dad a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. And I didn't just mean the job. He'd worked hard to provide for me and my mother, and it seemed he'd had to do some dangerous things along the way. I was grateful for it, and for him.

“None of that now,” he said, shooing me off as his ears turned pink. “Go love on your mother. Lord knows she's been worried enough for you these past few weeks.”

My mom helped me pack up my things and rode with me back to my apartment, taking along some food and stowing it in my refrigerator, chattering to me as she did so.

“…love those throw pillows on your sofa,” she was saying as I glanced around the apartment. Parker had said they'd do another cleanup job, and they had. Nothing was out of place, and those were definitely new throw pillows. I didn't want to think of what had happened to the old ones.

I let my mom putter around for a bit, then she kissed and hugged me good-bye and went on her way. It felt good to be home, and I felt more like myself.

But Monday morning, someone else will be getting Parker's coffee.

The thought sent a pang of jealousy and regret through me. I'd done the right thing. I had.

I'd opened my cabinet to reach for my cookie jar when I remembered. I'd thrown it at Parker and broken it.

Shit.

I was crying again and didn't even have my cookie jar full of M&Ms to make me feel better. What I did have was a bottle of wine and a television.

Two hours, a bottle of wine, a box of tissues, and
The Notebook
later and I was ready to give up on life and love. It was about this time that my cell rang. It was Megan.

“Yeah,” I answered, still sniffling.

“I know what you're doing,” she said.

“What am doing?” I asked, morose.

“You're moping. You quit your job—something you might have mentioned to me, by the way—and broke up with Ryker. How many bottles of wine have you gone through?”

“One,” I mumbled, tipping up my glass to swallow the last bit. I figured hey, at least I'd used a glass.

“I suppose it could be worse,” she sighed. “You could be passed out on your bathroom floor, hugging the toilet.”

Yeah, I 'd already done that at my parents' house. Thank God they hadn't heard me heaving and bawling at the same time. The house was too big for that.

“You're at your apartment, right?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then I'm coming over and I'm bringing food,” she said. “Pizza and ice cream. Any requests?”

“More wine.”

“You don't need more wine.” Megan dismissed my suggestion. “I meant, vanilla or chocolate?”

“Why is that even a question?”

“True. Chocolate it is. I'll be there in an hour.”

I didn't move from where I lay on my stomach on the couch, watching whatever had come on after the depressing movie from hell. Eventually, there was a knock on my door.

“A Friday night after a breakup should not be spent alone,” Megan said, breezing past me. The scent of pizza wafted behind her and I followed her into my kitchen.

“It's been a couple of weeks,” I said. “I'm fine.”

She stowed the ice cream in the freezer and gave me a look. “Yeah, you look fine.”

Okay, I couldn't argue with that sarcasm. I probably looked like hell after my crying jag.

“I got extra cheese,” she said, opening the box. “Let's eat.”

Three dripping slices later I felt moderately better. Megan had changed the channel to some comedy show (“Why are you watching Lifetime?” she'd complained. “That's television to slit your wrists to.”), and we were sprawled on my couch. I eyed the pizza, considering another slice.

“So what happened?” she asked. “Quitting your job is a pretty big deal. And I thought you and Ryker were doing good.”

“We were. Right up until I slept with Parker.”

Megan's mouth dropped open in a little O of surprise and her eyes widened. I had the brief satisfaction of knowing I'd rendered her speechless. Of course, that didn't last for long.

“You slept with Parker?” she asked, her voice high and squeaky. “When…how…?”

“It was after that guy that Viktor hired came after me,” I explained. “Parker showed up at my parents' house and I'd been worried for him, and he'd thought something terrible had happened to me and well…” I shrugged. “I thought it was a huge deal and would change everything—
he
said it changed everything—but then he must've had second thoughts because of Ryker, because when he showed up the next day—”

“Ryker showed up at your parents' house, the morning after you slept with his ex-best friend,” she interrupted. I nodded. “Did you tell him?”

“No, but he knows I have feelings for Parker,” I said. “He told me he wasn't going to give up like he did last time. Then Parker told me he loved me, and then it all went to hell.”

Megan shook her head. “Damn. You were right. We really do need wine.”

That got a laugh out of me, and she grinned.

“So let me get this straight,” she said. “You have two men, each of whom say they're in love with you, and you broke up with them both, even going so far as to quit your job.”

I nodded. “They're friends again, I think, and if I'd chosen one, I'd have just made them hate each other again. I didn't want to do that.”

“It's not your fault they both fell in love with you,” Megan argued. “I happen to think you're pretty awesome.”

I smiled weakly.

“But I do think you're being ridiculous, tossing them both aside,” she continued. “You're going to throw away your chance at love because they can't put aside their egos enough to still be friends no matter who you choose?”

I shook my head. “I already feel as though I'm living in a soap opera. I don't want to be a part of their drama.”

“So you can just turn off your feelings?” Megan persisted. “And you're never going to see either of them again?”

My face crumpled and she muttered a curse as she hugged me. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry again,” she said anxiously.

I sniffed. “It's okay. I just can't think of it like that or I…I…” My throat closed up and I couldn't say anything else, but I think she knew what I meant.

It took a minute, but I swallowed everything down and swiped at my eyes. Clearing my throat, I sat back on the couch. “Sorry about that,” I said.

“Don't apologize. I'm the shitty friend who made you cry.”

I laughed a little. “No, you're just saying what's true. I miss them. A lot. But what was I supposed to do? Make them compete over me?” I shook my head.

“Tell me the truth,” she said. “If you had to pick one of them, could you?”

I thought about her question, his face floating behind my eyes, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I could. But I can't, so I won't. It'd be wrong and make them fight again. It's over.”

Megan seemed to accept this, though she looked sad for me. I appreciated the sympathy though I felt I hardly deserved it.

“So where are you going to work now?” she asked, and I was grateful for the change of subject.

“I'm going to try working for my dad,” I said, “in the business. I start Monday.”

“I didn't know you were interested in business,” she said. “I thought you wanted to work at a museum.”

I shrugged. “I minored in business in college, just as a kind of backup plan. Dad offered and it seemed like a good idea. I guess I'll see how I like it.” I hesitated. “What about my old job? Has Parker…hired anyone yet to replace me?” I tried to pretend I didn't care what the answer was, but I don't think I fooled Megan, who shook her head.

“No. I think he's trying to pretend you're going to come back,” she said. “They've had temps in there and he's been going through them like mad. The last one left in tears in the middle of the day. I heard HR was going to lay into him because the agency is refusing to send over more people.”

“You're not serious,” I said. Parker wasn't
that
bad. I mean, he'd never made me cry or anything. At least, not about work stuff.

“I think he's being a total ass,” she said with a shrug. “And he'll probably keep being an ass until he realizes you're not coming back.”

Well, that was food for thought, and I couldn't help the small niggle of satisfaction that he hadn't replaced me already. Not real big of me, but it was what it was.

We chatted for a little while longer, with Megan obviously trying hard to keep things light and cheer me up, before she left a little after eleven. I gave her a long hug when she left, glad I had a friend like her to talk to.

Too many memories of Parker and Ryker assailed me when I stepped into my bedroom: the horror of believing Parker would be murdered as he lay next to me, to echoes of Ryker and me making love under the sheets.

Would Ryker and I have worked out if I hadn't already had feelings for Parker? I didn't know. What I
did
know was that I couldn't be involved with him while I was still in love with Parker. And I couldn't be in a relationship with Parker, knowing it would cause another rift between the two men.

I was nervous Monday as I dressed for work. My dad didn't have a lot of employees in the main office, maybe a couple of dozen, and I couldn't help wondering if they'd resent the boss's daughter coming into the business in a blatant display of nepotism.

Wanting to look professional, I wore a black pencil skirt that hit just below my knees with a white button down shirt and a gray cardigan. I fastened a thin red belt around my waist and added matching red heels.

I didn't have to wear my hair up for a change, so I pulled it back in a low, loose ponytail. A chunky statement necklace and my purse and I was ready to go.

The bus took me on the same route, but I didn't get off at my usual stop. A pang hit me as I saw the Starbucks where I'd always bought Parker's breakfast, but I shoved the feeling aside.

Two stops later and I exited. My father's office was one block down. Another Starbucks was located on this corner, so I ducked inside for a quick grande gingerbread latte, nonfat and no foam.

“Hold the whip?” the barista asked as he wrote on the side of the cup.

“No. Extra whip.” Time to break in a new Starbucks, I thought with a sigh. My old Starbucks barista would laugh outright at someone asking me that.

He gave me a wry look, the judgy little thing, but I ignored it, handing him some money to cover the bill.

I'd visited my dad's office a hundred times over the years, but today was different, as evidenced by how the receptionist, Carrie, greeted me.

“Good morning, Miss Muccino,” she said with a smile.

I stopped in my tracks. “Carrie, you've known me for five years. Call me Sage.”

She laughed. “Okay, if you insist. I just didn't want to start your first day on the wrong foot.”

“I appreciate that, but I'm not pretentious and certainly not going to have people calling me
Miss Muccino
,” I said, grinning at her. “Sage will do just fine.”

“Charlie's waiting for you,” she said, getting up from her desk. “But first let me show you your office.”

“I get an office?”

She laughed. “Of course you do! I thought your father was going to burst with pride when he was in here Friday, tell us you were going to start working with him. Had the decorator in over the weekend to put in just the right furniture and drapes.”