Bigger Than Beckham (36 page)

Martha stared at her uncle, torn between
outrage at his insulting remarks and worry about his situation. Her
father had done his best to take care of Geoffrey all his life.
He’d given Geoffrey various jobs at Winston Papers, and helped on
numerous occasions to extract him from financial calamity. Her
uncle had been a source of lifelong frustration for her father, but
Will Winston had remained patient and kind to the end. He’d even
given Geoffrey twenty percent of the Thunder for absolutely nothing
in return, because the boys shared a lifelong love of soccer and
because he hoped it would provide something of a nest egg for his
brother’s future. It was a testament to the depth of his love for
Geoffrey, despite the fact that her uncle had never accepted
responsibility for anything.

It was simply no contest. Her father’s wishes
came first for Martha, even more so since she knew her uncle’s
financial problems stemmed from his lamentable, long-standing
gambling habits, not just his poor business judgment.

She struggled to tamp down her frustration.
“Geoffrey, I’ve never understood how Daddy’s wishes can mean so
little to you. You wouldn’t even have a penny stake in the Thunder
if it wasn’t for his generosity. As far as I’m concerned, you owe
him—you’ll always owe him—and you need to show respect for what he
wanted for the team.”

Geoffrey’s face wrinkled into an ugly sneer.
“Respect? I wish my sainted brother had shown some for me. How do
you think it felt to have everyone gushing over the handsome,
fair-haired boy when they had nothing but the backs of their hands
for me? Yes, your father swept me the crumbs off his damn table,
but it was always out of some sense of obligation, certainly not
out of love.” His voice started to break. “God, not even affection,
I dare say.”

His face crumpled as he turned away from
Martha’s astonished gaze.

Her uncle’s sudden, wrenching admission froze
her in place. Those few words represented the first heartfelt,
honest emotions she could ever recall seeing in him. In her
childhood and youth, everyone had viewed Geoffrey as the anchor
around her father’s neck, the family trial, the garrulous and
shallow man who drifted through a purposeless life. Martha’s daddy
and mama had looked after him the best way they knew how, but she
knew it had never been easy for them. Because no matter how much
they did for Geoffrey, it never seemed to make him happy.

“I’m truly sorry you feel that way, Uncle,”
she finally said past the lump in her throat. “But Daddy did love
you. You must know that.”

Geoffrey waved off her sentiment, looking
embarrassed and angry. The brief bout of melancholic honesty had
been replaced by renewed hostility. “All that matters right now is
the situation we find ourselves in and how pig-headed you’re
acting. What do you think Tony Branch is going to do now? Sit on
his arse in London while we go bankrupt and the team shuts down?”
He glared at her with naked resentment. “If that’s what your think,
Martha, you’re not just naive, you’re tragically stupid. As stupid
as your father could be.”

Martha’s brief sympathy for him vanished. She
rose slowly to her feet, practically choking on her efforts to
control her skyrocketing anger. “On that particular note, it’s time
for you to leave, Geoffrey.”

He hoisted himself awkwardly to his feet.
“Very well, but don’t be surprised if word of Branch’s offer gets
out in the press. And if that happens, my dear niece, I suggest you
dig yourself a very deep hole to hide in because the fans and the
media are going to be all over you. They’re going to be mystified
by what you’re doing, and outraged that you’ve rejected a man who
could actually save the team instead of driving it off the
cliff.”

Her chest seized at the barely-veiled threat.
Would her uncle really leak all this to the press?

She clamped down hard on the anxiety crawling
up her throat because she had no choice except to smile and tough
it out. “Maybe, but if that scenario should ever come to pass, I’ll
deny any such an offer was made.” Tony would back her up on that,
she was certain.

At least I hope so
. With that errant
thought, sweat began to prickle along her hairline.

“I have no doubt,” Geoffrey said as he
stomped toward the door. “But you know very well that perception is
everything. And I’m afraid the local media perceive you as
something of a, shall we say,
dilettante.
I expect they’ll
be like a dog with a bone the moment they get wind of what’s going
on.”

Dilettante.
The word sliced right
through her, cutting deep and releasing something ugly she’d been
fighting for days to repress.

Instinctively, she struck back. “Do tell,
Uncle? Are you already in bed with Tony Branch, then? And here I
thought you were more likely betrothed to Steam Train.”

Geoffrey pivoted awkwardly to face her, his
bloodshot eyes wide and startled. And, Lord help her, a hurt look
on his face.

Her stomach dropped like an express elevator.
The stress of the weekend, piled on top of everything that had gone
before, had obviously eroded her self-control and her common
sense—not to mention her manners. However little faith she might
have in Geoffrey, she had not an ounce of proof of any wrongdoing
on his part. She made a quick, silent apology to her father for
behaving in a way he would have deplored no matter what the
provocation.

“Geoffrey, I’m sorry. I—”

“Save it Martha, because I don’t want to hear
it!” He yanked open the door and then slammed it shut behind
him.

Shielding his eyes against the cold, driving
October rain, Tony helped Ginny into the cab that had pulled up in
front of the posh French restaurant where they’d met for lunch.
When he closed the door, she stared back at him through the window,
her emerald green eyes cool and unhappy before she averted her
gaze.

Ginny Cross was even more stunning than all
those years ago when she and Tony had been lovers, with her amazing
eyes, delicate features and long, glossy hair. Her pampered
appearance was pretty much perfect, and was the result, he knew, of
the fortune she spent at high-end spas and designer boutiques.
Colton Butler’s money was making his ex-wife ever more attractive,
though clearly not yet happy. As she picked at her salad during
their meal, she’d confessed that there hadn’t been a man in her
life since the gruesome, public break-up with her husband.

Tony understood. Ginny’s cruel marriage had
etched fear and distrust deep into her psyche—deep enough that she
now kept even men she liked at arm’s length. She hadn’t quite
entered a convent, but no one had managed to get close to her. Tony
feared that perhaps no man ever would again.

As he waited in the rain for the parking
valet to bring his car around, Tony replayed their conversation in
his mind. It had not gone well. Ginny’s angry, wounded “no” had
told him he’d probably handled the situation like a bumbling idiot.
He’d spent hours beforehand mulling over his approach, and yet had
failed to come up with any good way to cushion the blow he’d
reluctantly decided he had to inflict on his dear friend. He hadn’t
been exaggerating when he’d told Martha that it felt as if she were
forcing him to choose between continuing to see her and keeping
Ginny’s friendship. And, by Ginny’s reaction, it seemed he may have
been right. She had eventually calmed down, but Tony had to wonder
if the damage to their relationship would ever be fully
repaired.

Yes, he’d chosen Martha, but in the end he’d
made the decision because Colton Butler
did
need to be
brought down. She’d been dead right about that. By deciding to
cover up Butler’s abuse and keeping her mouth shut to this day,
Ginny had missed the opportunity to ensure no one else suffered at
the bastard’s hands the way she had. Tony had been complicit in
that silence because of her utter conviction that getting away from
Butler without any more drama was the best way to protect her
future.

Rightly or wrongly, Martha had made Tony see
it in a different light.

His suit pants flapped hard in the miserable
wind that gusted down the narrow street near Leicester Square. Tony
glanced at his watch. It was almost two o’clock, which translated
to nearly nine in the morning in Florida. Martha had told him her
meeting with the bankers was set for eleven. On an impulse, he
pulled out his mobile to call her before she went in to face the
lions. Not that his news about Ginny was good, but he was sure
she’d want to know immediately. Besides, he longed to hear her
sweet drawl, though not as much as he craved having her gorgeous
body underneath him again. To say he couldn’t get enough of her was
like saying Manchester United wasn’t too shabby a team.

Martha picked up right away. “Impeccable
timing, Branch. I just stepped out of the shower and I’m hot,
steamy, and naked as a newborn. Oh, and I’ve got a towel wrapped
around my head in an imitation of the world’s worst turban,
too.”

“Many thanks for that enticing image,” he
said. “You’ll have to pardon me now while I run home and take a
cold shower.”

Martha’s throaty laugh washed over him.
“Well, I sure wish I could join you there, pal, but we’d better
make this a quickie. I’ve got a whole pack of alligators waiting to
take a bite out of my butt in less than an hour, and I don’t want
to look like something the tide washed ashore.”

“You always look perfect, love,” Tony said,
meaning every word.

“You lie, but God love you, anyway.”

Tony would have liked to banter with her all
afternoon, but her slightly clipped reply told him she really was
running out of time. “I thought you’d want to know that I spoke to
Ginny. Just now, in fact.”

“You did?” Martha squealed. “Oh, I’ve been
keeping my fingers crossed until they hurt, because I wasn’t sure
you were going to do it. Oh, Lord, thank you, thank you, Tony. You
should just see me now—I’m practically covered in big ol’ goose
bumps.”

He grimaced. “You’d better not get too
chuffed, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, crap.” Martha’s voice deflated. “Not
good, huh? She said no?”

Only about ten times, in between calling him
some choice names in a deadly serious voice.
Wretch. Traitor.
Wanker
.

“Not really, but let’s just say that for a
while there I figured I was going to be lucky to get out with my
manhood intact. I was actually damn thankful I’d suggested meeting
at a crowded restaurant. Otherwise, I’ll wager she’d have been
throwing sharp things at me.”

“I’m so sorry, hon,” she replied in a
regretful voice. “But what does ‘not really’ mean?”

“It means that it took a hell of a lot of
work, but in the end she left the door open a crack, at least.”

Tony hadn’t asked Ginny to do it for
him
. That would have made no sense, because this wasn’t
about him. Or about Martha, either. It was about justice for Ginny
herself, and about stopping Colton Butler from treating other women
in the vile way he’d treated his wife.

“She’s going to think about it?” Martha
ventured.

When Tony’s car pulled up to the curb, he
tipped the uniformed valet before climbing inside. Traffic on the
noisy, narrow street was backed up, so he decided to stay put and
finish the call right there. “She wants to think about the
implications for her and her family, and about whether it would
even make any sense if she were to come forward publicly after so
much time has passed.”

That had actually surprised the hell out of
him. Ginny had taken a long restroom break, obviously to try to
cool down, and then came back with a barrage of questions. Some of
those pointed queries had been about who the hell Martha Winston
was, and why exactly Tony was doing her bidding. The initially
difficult conversation that followed satisfied her to some extent,
and led to the door opening just enough to see a shaft of daylight
on the other side.

“Fair enough,” Martha said. “I just hope she
can think pretty fast. I’d really like to do this as one
blockbuster feature, not two separate pieces. And I’m already
starting to get a little tight for time with everything I’ve got to
deal with here.”

Tony bristled a little. “You need to take a
step back, Martha. I know Ginny, and she’ll make her decision on
her timetable, not yours.”

“Yes, of course,” she said quickly. He could
practically see her wincing. “I’m sorry if I sound impatient. It’s
just that with all the crap going on right now…” She let her words
trail off.

He knew exactly what she was talking about.
“No need to apologize. I know you’re dreading the meeting.”

“Like six root canals on the same day,” she
said.

Tony smiled at her always-vivid imagery.
“There’s one other thing Ginny mentioned, and it’s the most
important one, I’ll venture. She said she won’t even start to give
it serious consideration unless she can meet you face to face and
see for herself what you’re all about. And that’s basically a
direct quote.”