The Misconception (39 page)

Chapter 24

“The way I see it,” Jax said as he leaned back in the soft leather office chair in a deliberate show of nonchalance, “you don’t have any choice but to agree to my demands.”

He surreptitiously gauged his effect on Lance Strong, the president of the Ultimate Wrestling Association. At well over six feet and two hundred pounds, Lance was nearly as large as the wrestlers he employed. The story went that he’d gotten the UWA where it was today, because he bullied people into doing what he wanted. Bank presidents, television executives and wrestling managers had all trembled in his presence. Jax was determined not to.

“Are you giving me an ultimatum, Mr. Jackson?” Lance regarded Jax with narrowed eyes as steely as his voice. Off to one side of him, Star Bright, who’d futilely argued against this meeting, desperately tried to attract Jax’s attention. His white hair seemed to be standing more on end than usual. Anger Lance Strong, he’d said, and your wrestling career is as good as over.

“Yes, Mr. Strong, I am.” Jax crossed his ankles, consciously taking his time elaborating on his answer. “Having Smashing Headhunter unmask me on national television without my previous knowledge or permission was a dirty trick.”

“But great theater,” Star Bright cut in. “Really great theater. The Secret Stud’s archenemy, responsible for turning his ancestors into pinheads, striking again with villainous intent.”

Lance Strong crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring Star and focusing on Jax, who continued to talk. “As you know, my contract runs out in another month. If you don’t agree to my demands, I’ll defect to the WCW or WWF.”

“He doesn’t mean that quite the way it sounds.” Star sounded nervous. “Defect really wasn’t the word Jax wanted. He meant something more along the lines of ‘think really long and hard about leaving.’ Did I emphasize ‘long?’”

Again, Lance Strong ignored Star. The visible portion between his upper and lower eyelids got tinier. He tapped a big hand on the wide mahogany desk between them. “You haven’t convinced me why I should agree.”

The UWA president was so intense that Jax thought about telling a joke to lighten him up. He knew a good one about a boat carrying a shipment of yo-yos springing a leak and sinking forty times, but decided now wasn’t a good time. Especially since Lance Strong’s answer wasn’t only integral to his career, but also his love life.

“I’m a crowd favorite and a proven asset to your organization. “Jax concentrated on facts. “I’ve brought you fans and profit.”

“The Secret Stud has brought me fans and profit. I have no doubt The Stud would continue to do the same. I don’t have the same confidence about this new endeavor you’re proposing.” The UWA president sounded as full of bluster as the Wizard of Oz telling Dorothy to shoo because he couldn’t help her get back to Kansas. Jax reminded himself Dorothy’s crew had persuaded the wizard, who wasn’t nearly as frightening as he sounded, to their way of thinking.

“Then you’ll have to take a chance, won’t you?” Jax fixed his eyes on Lance Strong in an unblinking stare. “Because I’m not budging from what I want.”

“When he says he’s not budging, he doesn’t mean he’s not
budging
,” Star said. “The last thing Jax intends to do is offend—”

“Shut up,” Jax and Lance Strong spoke to the manager in unison, their eyes still locked. Jax thought he saw a glimmer of respect cross the other man’s face.

“I mean what I say, Mr. Strong. Either give me the go-ahead to change my act or I’m cutting ties with the UWA at the end of the month,” Jax said, shutting out Star’s low, dismayed moan.

Jax admired the way the UWA president kept his emotions from showing. He’d be a good poker player and probably a better friend. Jax understood why others commonly backed down in the face of what Lance Strong wanted.

But Jax wouldn’t back down, because too much was at stake. Thanks to Marietta, he was through worrying about what others thought of him. As he’d explained to his mother and brothers when he broke the news that he was a pro wrestler, what he thought of himself was far more important.

His mother had been disappointed he hadn’t confided in her, but she’d understood his reasons. Go-with-the-flow Billy pronounced it not a big deal. Drew made a couple of cracks about spandex and testosterone, but confessed his love of money outweighed his aversion to pro wrestling.

But profit wasn’t the main reason Jax was a pro wrestler. When he was in the center of the ring with the crowd cheering, he got a rush second only to the one he experienced in Marietta’s arms. If Jax got his way, he wouldn’t have to give up either Marietta or wrestling.

It was past time he fought for what he wanted.

“Well?” he asked Lance Strong, feigning a relaxed attitude as though everything wasn’t riding on the answer. “What’s it going to be?”

MARIETTA PLACED THE last of the dinner plates into the dishwasher and closed it with a soft bang. Tracy, a smile curving her lips, ran a damp sponge over the Formica counter as she hummed to herself. With her dyed blonde hair, silver, midriff-baring shirt and matching mini-skirt, she looked like the perfect choice to star in a production of “Lady Gaga Goes Alien.” Instead, she was acting like a contented housewife.

The little house her sister once again shared with Ryan was downright homespun, from the country kitchen with its walls covered in flowers-in-the-meadow paper to the plaid furniture in the family room. All that was missing were the two-point-five children who’d dash into the kitchen to ask for home-baked cookies. Marietta didn’t doubt they’d come in time. When they did, Dad would be just as likely to get the cookies out of the jar as Mom.

That wouldn’t be a possibility in Marietta’s home. Jax, the father of her child, wouldn’t be living with them. The thought gave Marietta a pang in the region of her heart. She ignored it the same way she’d ignored the pain at turning Jax out of her life. She’d done the right thing. Even if it hurt so damn much she could barely get through the days.

“Thanks again for having me over to dinner,” Marietta said, trying to shove Jax out of her mind. “Everything was delicious.”

“Ryan makes the best chicken lasagna,” Tracy stated. “Did I mention the pesto sauce is from a recipe he dreamed up all by himself?”

“Three times,” Marietta answered.

“Usually, he does the dinner dishes, but I told him we didn’t mind cleaning up since he did the cooking. Especially since he cleared the table. And made the pesto sauce. Did I mention he made the pesto sauce?”

“Tracy.” Marietta laid a hand on her sister’s arm. “You can stop trying to convince me that going back to Ryan was the right thing to do. I have eyes. I can see how happy the two of you are, and I’m happy for you.”

“Really?” Tracy’s expression lightened. “Do you mean that, Mari?”

“Of course I mean it,” Marietta answered, no longer surprised that it was true. She’d harbored such resentment toward Ryan for so long that it had been hard to admit she was wrong about him. Once she had, the feeling was liberating. Her resentment had fled like a stir-crazy bird let loose from a cage. “I’m willing to concede you and Ryan are the rare couple who can buck overwhelming biological odds and not only stay together but remain faithful to one another.”

“Oh, Mari.” Tracy leaned back against the counter, dismay evident beneath the sparkling silver shadow she’d slathered on her eyelids. “Do you still think so poorly of men? Even after Jax?”

“Jax lied to me about what he did for a living. It only follows that he’d lie to me about who he’s sleeping with behind my back.”

“Jax wouldn’t cheat on you! He only lied about being a pro wrestler because he loves you and was afraid of losing you!”

Marietta cut off her sister’s impassioned defense with a slashing gesture. “I don’t want to talk about Jax, Tracy. And you, of all people, should know enough not to lecture me on fidelity. You saw what our father did to our mother.”

“Yes, I saw,” Tracy said. “But if I’d paid closer attention, I would have realized Ryan isn’t anything like Dad. And you know what, Mari? Jax isn’t, either.”

“You don’t know that,” Marietta refuted. Tracy was indulging in wishful thinking, a practice Marietta refused to permit herself. She’d admitted she was wrong about Ryan, but Ryan was a fluke that went against nature’s grain. Wishing that Jax was another exception to the rule didn’t make him so.

“Hey, it’s nearly nine o’clock.” Ryan entered the kitchen, looking casually rumpled in worn jeans and an old Washington Redskins T-shirt. “I was—”

He stopped speaking abruptly, and his dark gaze ping-ponged from one sister to the other. His brow furrowed. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Marietta said firmly. “In fact, I was just about to leave.”

“Leave?” Ryan’s cry was plaintive. And puzzling. “But you can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Uh, because it’s early.” He crossed the room to his wife and slung an arm over her shoulder. He appeared anxious, which was not a trait Marietta usually associated with him. “Isn’t it early, Trace?”

“It is.” Tracy gave a nod so vehement the inside of Marietta’s head hurt in sympathy. “It’s early.”

“You’re forgetting I’m six months pregnant. I need my rest,” Marietta said, heading toward the door.

Quicker than she could have imagined, Ryan dropped his arm from Tracy’s shoulder and moved in a semi-circular pattern until he was between Marietta and the door. He extended his arm, palm up, the way she’d seen the Supremes do on old variety-show clips when they sang, “Stop! In the name of love.”

“Watching television is a good way to rest,” he said.

“That may be so,” Marietta said, “but I seldom watch television.”

“Oh, but you should.” Tracy was instantly at Ryan’s side, forming a double-wide blockade. “You can rest your brain while watching television. It’s a very undemanding activity.”

“Yes, it is,” Ryan said, “and we’d really like it if you rested your brain with us.”

“Yes,” Tracy said. “Yes, we would.”

Her sister and brother-in-law started nodding like those silly little dolls some people kept on their car dashboards. Marietta didn’t know if she could stand to spend a minute more in their company. Although she was thrilled for them, their happiness made losing Jax seem all the more tragic. A stubborn part of Marietta’s subconscious still believed she and Jax could have been that happy, even though logically she knew that wasn’t true.

“I really don’t think—”

“Please,” Tracy interrupted. “Please stay, Mari. I don’t get to see as much of you as I did when we were living together.”

Marietta sighed in defeat. Put that way, she couldn’t refuse. “I suppose I could stay a little while longer.”

“Wonderful.” Ryan wasted no time in ushering them into the family room. Marietta’s pregnancy wasn’t so far advanced that she had difficulty maneuvering, but Ryan helped her into his favorite recliner. She snuggled into it, enjoying the pampering. Now that Jax was out of her life, she had precious little of that. She mentally slapped herself. She had to stop thinking about him.

“I have to admit, this is quite restful,” Marietta said to take her mind off Jax.

“See, we told you.” Tracy sounded nervous as she settled onto the sofa next to her husband. Marietta wondered why. Ryan picked up the remote control, switched on a television station and the answer became immediately apparent.

A black-jacketed emcee was bellowing into a microphone about the ultimate in wrestling entertainment while a boisterous crowd shouted, “Uwa, uwa, uwa.”

Betrayal, swift and wrenching, cut into Marietta. The pair on the sofa regarded her warily. They looked as though they were afraid she would rap their knuckles with a ruler and send them to the principal’s office. If she’d had a ruler, she might have.

“How could you do this to me?” Marietta cried. “Did Jax put you up to this? Did he tell you to invite me to dinner so you could trick me into watching this?”

“That’s not why we invited you to dinner,” Tracy denied quickly. “We invited you, because we wanted to have you.” She glanced at Ryan, as though seeking his support. “As for Jax, what did you expect him to do when you won’t take his calls?”

“I expect him to stop calling, that’s what.” Marietta scooted to the edge of the recliner, preparing to rise. “I certainly don’t intend to watch him on television.”

“Wait a minute, Marietta,” Ryan said. “I admit it. We’re guilty as charged. Jax is going to debut his new act tonight, and he asked us to make sure you saw it. What would it hurt to watch him?”