The Perfect Play (32 page)

Good Lord. Her and Mick having babies? The thought had never occurred to her. “Mick and I are just dating.”

“Uh-huh. He seems to like your son.”

“Nathan’s a teenager.”

“So?” Heather Swanson scooped up little Timmy and sighed. “Mick’s been around all our kids, from infant to high school age. And he’s great with all sizes. He’s going to be a wonderful father someday.”

“Yes, I’m sure he will be.”

“And since you’re the only woman he’s ever brought around ...”

Tara rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t mean he intends to marry me and have babies with me.”

But the thought lingered all through the week. Silly thought. Marriage and babies and a family with her and Mick and Nathan and a child they created together.

Really dumb thought. Mick had his life, which was football and beautiful young women. Her life was her career and her son, who was now fifteen. The last thing she wanted was to start over again. She was thirty years old. In a few short years Nathan would be off to college, and she’d be free to focus on her business, unencumbered. She’d sacrificed so much to raise Nathan, to put herself through school, to climb the ladder, and get her business off the ground.

She didn’t need a husband, and she sure as hell didn’t need to start over at ground zero again, saddled with a child.

A child with Mick’s deep blue eyes and dark hair. A daughter, maybe. Or another boy. Someone for Mick to watch grow, to toss a football with.

Good Lord. Put a baby in her arms, and her hormones got all whacked out. That’s all it was. She and Mick were dating, and she was suddenly having babies with him?

Right, like that was going to happen. Her baby days were long over.

With effort, she regrouped and turned her full attention to the charity event. The rides had all been set up, the booths were in place, there was plenty of food, and all the players had arrived. The kids were pouring in, and the media was spread throughout the fairgrounds. Having the venue in one of the East Bay cities allowed for easy transportation, the chance for great attendance, plenty of parking, and great weather.

She’d put all the wives and girlfriends working the carnival in pink team jerseys today so she’d be able to spot them. She’d given Nathan a red and white team jersey to wear since Mick had told her Nathan could hang next to him today, something Nathan had no problem with for obvious reasons. Nathan would be helping out the team by running for drinks, pens, opening up boxes of footballs and whatever else they might need, and assisting the team staffers. He was ecstatic just to be hanging out with the team today, so she was sure he’d act the gofer for anything they wanted, and Tara was happy Mick would be keeping an eye on him so she wouldn’t have to worry about where he was or what he was doing. One thing off her list.

Now she could focus on the charity’s kids, who were so excited about the carnival she could see it on their faces. They were all troubled youth ranging from elementary school age all the way to middle school and early high school age, so having a free day to just have some fun, ride the Tilt-A-Whirl or the Scrambler or the roller coaster, walk through the fun house, play skee ball or try to hit the ducks in the shooting booth would be a great way to decompress from their everyday lives. And they’d have the bonus of some one-on-one time with the team players. The kids had brought their parents or foster parents and siblings along, so it wasn’t long before the fairground was full, plus the charity organizers and staffers were there, too. Tara was running from activity to activity to make sure everyone was having a good time.

She stopped off at the players’ booth, which had a huge line of kids waiting to have their pictures taken and footballs autographed. Mick was hanging out with some of the guys.

“Hey,” she said. “Everything going okay?”

He kissed her and put his arm around her. “Going great here. How about you? You look hot and sweaty.”

She laughed and pushed her hair away from her damp face. “Busy. Do you all need anything?”

“Quit worrying about us. We have team staffers here to take care of us. And try to relax. I wandered around a little, and everything looks perfect.”

She inhaled, let it out. “I’ll relax when it’s over.” Her phone buzzed. She grabbed it from her pocket, listened, and laid her hand on Mick’s chest. “Gotta go and take care of something.”

“Try not to kill yourself over this.”

She laughed and darted off, met up with Roseanne and a few of the other wives, and they took care of the food serving issue. Once that was resolved, she wandered through the fairgrounds to make sure the kids were being entertained. Everyone seemed happy.

“Miss Lincoln?”

She whirled around, and a microphone was shoved in her face.

“Alan Terlin, Channel 8 news. We’d like to interview you for the local broadcast.”

“Oh. You don’t want to interview me. Why don’t you go talk to the team.”

His lips lifted. “Already did that. They pointed me in your direction, said you put this event together.”

“I’m just the event planner. You should really talk to the head of the foundation and the people who work there. They are the heart and soul behind making sure these kids lead a balanced life—education, social, and family.” She looked around, hoping like hell she could find someone from the charity, nearly crying with relief when she spotted Carmen Sanchez. “Here, let me get Carmen for you.”

She hurried over to Carmen and dragged the newspeople to her. Carmen, not a hair out of place despite running around even more than Tara was, graciously agreed to say a few words about the foundation and what they offered kids who’d had a rough start and disadvantages. Tara backed away and let Carmen have the face time on camera.

“Smooth escape.”

Tara turned and faced Elizabeth, who managed to look unruffled and cool in her sleeveless top and Capri pants and kitten heels.

“What? No power suit today?”

“I have causal clothes, Tara.”

“Could have fooled me. I thought you always dressed like a shark on the attack.” Even in casual attire—which looked designer and expensive—Liz was still put together impeccably.

“You should have done the interview. It would be good for the team. For Mick.”

“You do the interview. I’m hot and sweaty and look like hell. And the foundation can make the team look good.”

“The foundation will make the foundation look good.”

Tara shook her head. “Not my area. I’ll let you find someone to make the team look good.”

Liz shrugged her shoulders. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

Glad to be rid of Liz, Tara moved off to the midway where she found a group of kids trying to best the carnies in games of water balloon darts, ring toss, and milk bottle throw. She eyed the vendors carefully, stopping at each one for long enough to be sure there was a decent percentage of the kids winning. Mr. Stokes was funding these vendors nicely, and the kids should have a good chance of winning.

They were. Satisfied, she moved on.

Food was plentiful in the eating area, and there was enough to drink there as well as at all the drink stops throughout the fairgrounds. Everything seemed to be under control, so Tara figured she’d take a minute or two and stop in at the players’ area, which was still filled to bursting with kids, players, and media.

Liz was there, giving some face time to reporters. She had a group of kids hanging with Mick. Tara was about to think the woman had a nice bone in her body, then thought twice. She was pushing Mick, making sure Mick looked good. Tara rolled her eyes and decided to come back later, but then stopped when she realized that behind Liz were the kids she was talking about while she was being interviewed, and that Nathan stood next to Mick.

Nathan was being photographed along with several other kids as Liz gave that interview.

“These kids come from less than positive backgrounds,” Liz said, motioning behind her, deliberately inclining her head toward Nathan. “Some have been abused, some have parents who’ve been involved in drugs. Some live in foster care, and some are just economically disadvantaged. The foundation and the team have set up this event to give these kids something positive in their lives, when they haven’t had many positive things to look forward to.”

Liz turned to Nathan and motioned him over. Nathan, obviously not knowing what the hell was going on, grinned back at Liz and came over. The cameras focused on him.

“Are you having a good time today?” Liz asked.

Nathan, looking utterly bashful and camera struck, nodded. “Uh, yeah. Having a great time.”

And then Liz motioned Mick over, and Mick put his arm around Nathan’s shoulders. The entire thing made Nathan look like one of the troubled kids, and Mick was offering up the hero’s helping hand.

Tara’s blood boiled. That fucking bitch. She stood there, her feet rooted to the asphalt, not knowing what to do. Ripping Nathan out of there would cause a scene and would only make matters worse, embarrassing Nathan and herself in the process. She refused to give Liz the satisfaction. And Mick seemed oblivious to the entire thing, playing to Nathan and the cameras as if he knew exactly what was going on.

Maybe he did know what was going on. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

Surely the man wasn’t that clueless. Had he been in on it the entire time? He and Liz worked closely together. He knew every time there was a promo op. Surely Liz had cleared this with Mick, so he had to have known.

Nausea bubbled up, and she palmed her stomach. The sun and the knowledge that Mick would use Nathan like that made her dizzy. She needed to sit down, but she refused to walk away, not when Nathan was so vulnerable.

Fortunately, the cameras soon moved away, and Tara could breathe again. She wanted nothing more than to grab her son and run like hell, but she was responsible for this event, and she wouldn’t let the foundation down. So she swallowed her anger and kept her focus for the remainder of the afternoon, making sure the rest of the event went off without a hitch.

When the last of the kids had piled back into the buses and everything was wrapped up, she grabbed Nathan.

“We’re leaving.”

Nathan frowned. “What? Why? Mick said we’d go out to eat.”

“Don’t ask questions. We need to go. Now.”

Mick was next to her in a second. “What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t even look at him. “I have to go. We have to go.”

He grasped her arm. “Tara. What’s the matter?”

She shook her head. “I need to get Nathan out of here.”

“Is something wrong?”

Her head shot up, and she could barely meet his gaze. “You know what’s wrong,” she whispered. “How could you do this?”

His eyes widened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

She moved away from the crowd of players and wives and girlfriends, taking Nathan with her. “Mom, what’s the matter with you? Why are we leaving?”

“We’re done here.” She was done here. She was done with Mick.

She passed by Elizabeth and saw the look of triumph on her face.

Yes. Liz had won. Finally. Tara was finished with Mick. With all of this.

 

 

MICK THREW HIS KEYS ON TOP OF THE TABLE NEAR THE front door, flopped into the chair, and grabbed the remote. He turned on the TV, needing background noise to drown out his own thoughts, because all he’d been able to think about for the past several hours had been Tara.

She’d been upset. Even more than upset. She was mad as hell. At him. And he had no idea why. He’d tried calling her cell. She wouldn’t answer, despite repeated attempts.

He drove by her house and rang her bell, but she wouldn’t answer, even though he knew damn well she was inside. Short of busting down the door, which he didn’t think was a very good idea, there wasn’t much he could do.

So now he sat here like a dumb-ass, flipping through channels and trying to figure out what the fuck he’d done to make her so mad.

They’d barely even had any time together today. She’d been busy all day with the event, and she’d done an incredible job. He’d been so proud of her, and so had Irvin Stokes, who’d come looking for her. Mick had made up an excuse for her, saying she was probably wrapping things up. Earlier in the day she’d been a little harried, but smiling and happy. And then boom—disaster. But he hadn’t said anything or done anything to make her mad at him. Not mad enough to storm off without an explanation or refuse to take his calls or answer the door.

He didn’t get it.

The news was on, and they had a report about the event. Mick clicked up the volume to hear Liz talking up the foundation. Mick saw himself, Nathan, and a few other kids behind Elizabeth while she talked about the kids. He leaned forward when Liz motioned toward Nathan, looked at him, then described the problems kids in the foundation had, from abuse to drugs to everything in between. And then Liz brought Nathan forward, then Mick.

What. The. Fuck. Liz might as well have hung a sign on Nathan and used him as a poster child for damaged children. And there Mick was, smiling and slinging his arm around Nathan, totally clueless about what Elizabeth had just done.

Son of a bitch. She’d used Nathan. Hell, she’d used him, too. And Mick would wager a year’s salary that Tara had seen it and thought he and Liz had cooked it all up as a promotion and even planned to use Nathan in it.

Fuck! He threw the remote across the room and stood, shoving his hand through his hair. He knew Liz was a master manipulator, but he’d never known her to go this far. He never minded her using him or an actress or model to get a good promo shot, but a kid? Oh, hell no.

He grabbed his cell phone and dialed Liz’s number. Even though it was late, he knew she would answer.