Quarterback Sneak (8 page)

“I appreciate you saying that,
except I’m hardly the star here.”

“I don’t care,” she teased. “You’ll
always be my star. I tell Tony that all the time. Come on, say hello to all
these nice young ladies waiting for you.”

Max used every bit of discipline to
hold himself together for the next hour. He made polite conversation as he
worked the room, chatting up the important guests the Warrens had invited. As
politely as possible, he fended off the advances of the “pretty girls” looking
to score with a football star and made it a point to say a few words to the
sports reporters in the crowd.

As if I even qualify for a star.

He knew, however, to a lot of
females, that didn’t matter. Single women who were friends of the Warrens spent
the entire year working to get an invite to the Valentine’s Day event, hoping
to get lucky. He was finally making his way to the front door, watching for one
of the Warrens so he could say good-bye, when a blonde in a tight sweater and
skirt grabbed his arm.

“I’ve been trying to catch your eye
all night,” she said, giving him a grin he could only call salacious. “You’re
very much in demand.”

“Not really.” Trouble, he told
himself, and tried to extricate himself as politely as he could.

“I’m Alana Russell, a friend of
Rina’s. I live out of town, but I told her, this year, I was coming to visit
especially so I could attend their party.”

“I expect she’s very happy about
that.”

“Oh, sure, sure, sure. Now, Max,
I’d love it if I could have a souvenir. Can I bother you for a sec so a friend
of mine can take a picture of us together?” Before he could answer, she hurried
right along, “Oh, thank you so much,” and waved in the general direction of
someone.”

Sliding her arm around his back,
she plastered herself against him, her head against his shoulder. Max dug out
his best company smile.

“Oh, and just one more,” she
begged. “It won’t take but a sec.”

Before he realized what was
happening, she had gone up on tiptoe, cupped his cheeks with both hands, and
planted a kiss on his lips.

Max was so shocked for a long
moment he couldn’t even move. Then he grabbed her arms as gently as possible
and eased her away.

“I hope you don’t plan to show them
to anyone except yourself,” he cautioned. “I’d hate for people to get the wrong
idea.”

“Oh, honey, I think where you
Warriors are concerned, there’s only one idea, and it’s the right one.”

“Actually, I’m seeing someone and—”

“And maybe you can see me, too.”
She nudged him suggestively with her shoulder. “I told Rina she absolutely has
to give me your number.”

It took another two or three
minutes before Max could get away from the woman, and another five before he
could say good-bye to the Warrens.

“My friend, Alana thinks you’re the
hottest guy on the team,” Rina whispered to him at the door. ”She’s been dying
to meet you. I’ll bet you guys would have fun together.”

Max shifted uncomfortably. “Yes,
well—”

“Rina!” Tony hollered at her. “Come
over here a minute.”

“Gotta go. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Finally back in his car, he headed
toward home. He felt as if he’d been run over by a lawn mower. Tomorrow he’d
have to call Tony Warren and, as delicately as possible, ask him to make sure
those pictures never saw the light of day except in Alana’s home.

He only wished he could get rid of
the feeling they were somehow going to bite him in the ass.

Max rose before six in the morning,
having slept uneasily. He couldn’t shake the feeling the sword of doom was
about strike him. Those damn pictures. If only he’d been able to push the woman
away, but she’d been worse than a vulture. As soon as the clock hit a decent time,
he planned to call Tony Warren and ask him to help. You just never knew when a
picture would show up on someone’s phone and make its way out into cyberspace.
Unfortunately, he didn’t think the Warrens would be taking any calls before
noon today.

He downed two cups of coffee while
he watched the clock. Valentine’s Day. He had big plans for Stacy, along with a
special event tonight, before the magazine party. Maybe that was why he was so
nervous. By eight o’clock, he was ready to jump out of his skin. Showered and
dressed, he hurried down to the bakery in the nearby strip center and bought
the cinnamon rolls she told him she had a real obsession for. At eight
forty-five, he rang her bell, excitement at the upcoming day racing through his
veins.

Instead of opening the door, Stacy
merely hollered through it.

“Go away, Max. Go home.”

What?
“Stacy? What’s wrong?
I have cinnamon rolls.”

“I don’t want your cinnamon rolls.
I don’t want anything from you. I don’t even want
you.
So, go away.”

Shit.
“I’m not leaving until
you open up and tell me what’s wrong.” He waited a minute, but nothing
happened. “The neighbors are probably going to call the cops if I stand out
here yelling much longer. Open the damn door.”

He was considering breaking it down
when he heard the rattle of the chain and the snick of the deadbolt, then there
she was. His heart dropped at the sight of her. She had the rattiest robe he’d
ever seen on over an equally ratty sleep shirt. Her hair clumped around a messy
ponytail and her eyes were swollen and red.

“I don’t want those.” She pointed
at the box. “I don’t want anything from you. I knew it was too good to be true,
and I was right. At least the other assholes didn’t dump me so publicly.”

“Stacy, I have no idea what the
fuck you’re talking about. I didn’t dump you.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t share, either.
I told you that.”

“Will you make sense here? What is
going on?”

She held up a finger. “Wait a
minute.”

She closed the door, leaving Max
still standing on the little porch. In seconds it was opened again. Stacy
shoved her phone in his face.

“Look. On the Friends of the
Warriors Facebook page this morning. Janelle couldn’t wait to call me and tell
me.”

Max’s heart sank. Those fucking
photos with that fucking Alana. He should have grabbed the fucking phone last
night and smashed it.

“Stacy, the picture is not what it
looks like. I didn’t—”

“You can’t imagine how humiliated I
am. Do you have any idea how many millions of people have probably seen you and
whoever she is already?”

“Please let me explain. I hardly
even know her. She—”

“Good-bye, Max. Don’t come over
here again. And don’t call me or text me or try to communicate with me in any
way. We’re done.”

Then another hard slam that he felt
through every bone in his body.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Somehow he had to make it all
right. He wasn’t going to lose the love of his life on Valentine’s Day.

*****

Stacy tried to remember if she’d
ever felt more miserable in her life, but she didn’t think so. She didn’t think
it was possible for anyone to cry as much as she had or to feel as completely
devastated. It wouldn’t be so bad if she hadn’t trusted Max so completely.
After all, she’d known him for three years. They’d been
best friends
.
She’d shared her deepest secrets with him. Exposed herself down to her rawest
nerves.

And he’d taken all that knowledge
and played her. Betrayed her. None of the other assholes had really mattered.
And mostly she’d been able to hide her state of being dumped because, except
for Kurt, she never shared with anyone. Too bad for her Max had insisted on
making their activities as public as possible.

She hated thinking he’d had this in
mind all along.

Maybe not. Maybe he’d really
thought they could be special together. A real relationship. Maybe.
Hah!
Then another hot female came on to him, and she was left in the dust.

Her landline had been ringing off
the hook so often she finally unplugged it. She even turned off her cell. There
was no way she could manage to talk to anyone. It was bad enough she had to
figure out how to pull herself together to go to the party tonight.

The damn party. If only she could
figure out a way to avoid it. Maybe she could call and say she’d come down with
a terminal illness of some kind. Showing up at work Monday would be bad enough.
But if she wanted a job come next week, she’d better pull herself together.

Only how can I celebrate
Valentine’s Day when I’m nobody’s Valentine? Max, how could you do this to me?

At last she dragged herself out of
her misery and took a shower, washed her hair, and reluctantly made up her face.
She glared at the sexy red dress hanging in the closet, tempted for a moment to
cut it up with scissors. Then she thought, what the hell? Maybe she should keep
the new Stacy front and center. If Max had dumped her, there were plenty of
other fish in the sea. And tonight, she might find one if she chose wisely
enough.

By the time she left her place, in
the red dress and the sexy lingerie, gold hoops dangling from her ears, and her
feet shod in high-heeled sandals, she almost had herself believing she could
have a good time.

Almost.

She just needed to get rid of the
heaviness where her heart was.

The party was always held in one of
the high-end downtown hotels. Adam Devereaux, who owned the magazine, liked to
make a splash. Besides the staff, the guest list would include advertisers,
media, and major influential people. Adam always preached that image was all.

Parking her car in the hotel
garage, she rode the elevator down and took a deep breath before she stepped
into the lobby.

And walked right into Adam
Devereaux.

“Ah, Stacy. There you are. I need
you to come with me for a minute.”

“I…you…what?“

“Over here.” He took her by the arm
and quietly guided her across the lobby to one of the smaller private rooms.

“What are we doing in here?” There
were chairs stacked against the walls, a table at one end with a laptop on it,
and a screen on a stand. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“You will in a minute.”

He pulled a chair off one of the
stacks and urged her into it, then walked to the table and typed a command into
the computer. She was startled to see a face appear on the screen. A woman. One
she’d never met personally but the magazine had done a feature on influential
women in sports, and Rina Warren had been one of the ten. She didn’t think this
had to do with that feature, so what was it all about, anyway?

She looked up at her boss. “Mr.
Devereaux?”

He nodded at the screen. “Just
listen.”

“Hello, Stacy.” The woman on the
screen smiled at her. “We’ve never met. I’m Rina Warren, sort of Max Sullivan’s
boss. Tony and I had a rather desperate meeting with Max today about an
incident that happened at our party last night. I’m sorry that one of my
friends got a little over eager with Max. None of us knew his heart was already
committed or, I can promise you, nothing would have happened.”

Stacy’s jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry you didn’t come to the
party with Max last night. If you can make the time, Tony and I would love it
if you could drop by our house later this evening. Our major event was last
night, and I understand yours is tonight. Max told me he has big plans
afterwards, but we are having a few friends in for a low-key Valentine’s
celebration. I know it will be late, but that’s okay. We’d love to meet you.”

A man appeared next to her. Tony
Warren’s face was very familiar.

“I want to add my apology to Rina’s
and reinforce the invitation. Max is a valuable asset to the team, and we’re
devastated if in any way we disrupted what appears to be a very special
relationship between you. Hope to see you later.”

Stacy looked up at her boss again.
“My God!”

“We’re not done yet.”

Another face appeared on the
screen. Max, looking completely devastated.

“Please give me another chance,
Stacy.” He swallowed so hard she could see his Adam’s apple move. “I haven’t
really told you what I’m about to say. I planned to do it in a big way tonight.
Please, listen to me now. Me, with no frills.” He paused a moment. “Stacy, I
love you. I’ve never loved anyone before the way I love you. Please don’t shut
me out of your life.”

Stacy was shocked into silence.
Finally, she found her voice. “How did you do everything?” She gestured at the
setup. “All this.”

Mr. Devereaux laughed. “A cell
phone video and a little influence with the hotel. Tony Warren’s an old friend
and glad to help. And an invitation to the owners’ box at the stadium didn’t
hurt, either.” He took her hand and urged her up from the chair. “Last night
was an embarrassment for the Warrens. An old friend of Rina’s took liberties
she shouldn’t then plastered it all over cyberspace. I can assure you that, old
friend or not, she has abused both friendship and hospitality and won’t be
invited back.”

Stacy frowned. “Really? She won’t?
Even though she and Mrs. Warren are friends?”

“I think the woman put the
friendship to the wrong test last night. I spoke with Max after we made these
plans. He loves you, Stacy. I’ve never heard a man more miserable in my life.
On his behalf, I beg you to give him another chance.” He studied her carefully.
“Besides, it’s Valentine’s Day. The day of true love, so it says in my
magazine. How about it?”

At that moment, the door to the
room opened, and Max strode in, the expression on his face both hopeful and
fearful.

“Stacy?” He walked over to her and
reached tentatively for her hands.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Adam
Devereaux headed toward the door. “Stacy, don’t forget you still have to put in
an appearance at the party. Think what a scoop it would be if the two of you
had a special announcement to make.”