Off the Hook (28 page)

“So, uh…” Finn hesitated, then asked the question Liam had asked himself a hundred times since walking off that mound: “Does that mean you’re coming home, then?”

“Jeez,” Jessie growled. “Would you give the guy a couple minutes to get his head straight?”

“It’s okay,” Liam said quietly. He wanted to go home, that was for damn sure, but just as with his team in Oakland, Liam wasn’t going to be much use to them up at the lodge.

“I won’t be able to grip a rod for a while.”

“So? We’ve been training someone new on the boats,” Finn said. “You know, for when Ro goes back to Calgary next month.”

“Forget the boats.” It almost sounded as if Jessie was smiling when she spoke. “I need help in the lodge: cleaning, busing, you know the drill. There’s always something.”

Hearing their voices, knowing they were disappointed for him and yet happy he’d be coming home, eased some of the twisting ache in his gut.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “My arm’s pretty bad, Jess. I might not be able to do anything other than sit on the dock, lifting a pint of Gat.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” He didn’t need to see Jessie to know she was rolling her eyes at him. “Lucky for you, the toilet scrubber doesn’t care if you’re left- or right-handed; it’ll work in either hand.”

They talked awhile longer before Liam cut them off, pleading fatigue. But hours after they’d hung up, he hadn’t moved from his corner of the couch. How was he supposed to feel? Sad because his career had just ended with what
SportsCenter
was calling a “spectacularly devastating pitch”? Or happy because he was finally going home to stay?

Was it still his home? For those couple of months, it had felt more like home than it ever had, but now…now he wasn’t sure. And as much as he wanted to see Jessie and his brothers again, without Kate there, the chances of the Buoys ever feeling like home again were slim and none.

He needed Kate in his life. She filled something he hadn’t even known was empty until she’d walked up the path at the Buoys, pulling that damn suitcase. He’d spent ten years thinking about her, googling her, and wondering what would happen if he called her.

This time he wasn’t going to wonder. This time he was going to say everything he should have said all along.

The next five days were a flurry of doctors, arthroscopic surgery, therapy, calls to the Buoys, and settling things up with his agent. And while he tried to focus on everything they said to him, everything they did to him, all he cared about was getting on that plane and heading north.

He needed to see Kate, to find out why she’d left, and to beg her for a chance to fix whatever he’d done. He knew it was a dickish thing to do, since he’d walked out on her so long ago, but he didn’t care. If being a selfish prick meant he got to see her one more time, then he was damn well going to be the biggest selfish prick out there.

Sitting in Salt Lake on the layover home, Liam had no idea what he was going to say or do when he saw her. Beg? Plead? Did it matter? He’d be damned if he was going to let her get away a second time without laying it all out there.

He’d never told a woman he loved her, and while part of him thought he should be worried or nervous about doing it now, he wasn’t—at least not about saying it out loud; the only thing that worried him was that his past experiences would prove right again and love wouldn’t be enough.

Waiting his turn for a cab in Vancouver was the most taxing thing he’d ever done, but once he was finally on his way, he rattled off the first of the two addresses he’d committed to memory and promised his driver an extra fifty if he’d wait for him as he ran inside.

The Foster Group took up the entire twelfth floor of a newish building on Burrard Street—nice enough, Liam guessed, with all its glass and chrome, but whoever’d chosen that god-awful pan-flute music was an idiot.

The receptionist, a twenty-something-year-old guy in a sleek gray suit, greeted him with a wary smile, which Liam could only assume was because they obviously didn’t get many people coming through the door in shorts and a T-shirt.

“Can I, uh, help you?” he asked, as he plugged his headset into the cord hanging from the phone.

“I hope so. I’m looking for Kate Hadley; is she here today?”

“Kate—” Holding up a finger, the kid pressed a button on the phone. “Good morning, the Foster Group, how may I direct your call? One moment.”

A couple of more button pushes later, the kid glanced at Liam again.

“Sorry about that. Did you say Kate? Kate Hadley?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, she’s, uh, no longer with the company.” Even if the kid hadn’t hesitated, there was something in his voice that made Liam wonder.

“Where is she?”

“I’m sorry, Mr….?”

“O’Donnell,” Liam ground out.

A spark of recognition flickered across his face. “Mr. O’Donnell, of course. As I said, Ms. Hadley is no longer with us, but I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to share details.”

Not at liberty? Did that mean they’d fired her? Or had she quit? No, she said she’d worked too hard to let anything get in her way, so there was no way she’d quit.

Son of a bitch.

Part of his brain told him to push past the reception desk and go find this Paul Foster, to tell him what a piece of shit he was for letting Kate go, but that idea was shoved to the very back corner of his mind as he raced outside.

He could deal with Foster later; right now he just needed to find Kate. After giving the cabbie the second address he’d memorized, Liam twitched in the backseat all the way to Kate’s apartment building.

“Man the fuck up,” he muttered. He wasn’t going to get another shot at this, that much he knew, so he was already half out the door before the cab even stopped.

She wasn’t kidding when she’d said it wasn’t anything fancy. Hell, there wasn’t even a security entry. With the cab waiting at the curb with his suitcases, Liam didn’t give himself a second to rethink it; he took the stairs three at a time and banged on her door.

The sounds of shuffling inside the apartment made him knock again, louder.

“Kate?”

As each shuffling step got closer to the door, Liam found himself holding his breath, his hand pressed flat against the wood, desperate for the first glance of her face.

When the door finally opened a tiny crack, it took every ounce of self-control he had not to shove it open the rest of the way, and he was ever so thankful he didn’t do that, because it wasn’t Kate’s face peering out at him.

“Yes?” The woman had to be eighty if she was a day, her gray hair wrapped up in foam curlers and her pink-and-purple housecoat secured tightly with a belt.

For a few seconds, Liam blinked down at her, then at the numbers on the door.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought this was Kate Hadley’s apartment. I must have the wrong—”

“Kate?” the woman repeated, her voice soft as down. “I…Hold on.”

She left the door open as she shuffled away for a second. When she returned, she had three envelopes in her hand.

“I think it’s just junk mail, but I didn’t want to throw it out in case she wanted it.”

Sure enough, all three envelopes were addressed to Kate.

“I’m sorry,” Liam said, giving his head a short shake. “So this
was
Kate’s place?”

“I would think so,” the woman said, nodding at the mail in Liam’s hand. “But the place was empty when I got it, so…”

“When was that, if you don’t mind my asking?” Desperation began in Liam’s gut and crawled slowly up his throat.

“Oh. Well.” Her whole face crinkled into a frown. “I guess I moved in about mid-June. Yes, it was the seventeenth; I remember now because it was my grandson’s birthday.”

The seventeenth? That was…what…almost three weeks ago.

Three weeks? God, she could be anywhere.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the woman went, would you? The one who lived here before you?”

“Sorry, dear.”

“That’s fine,” Liam lied, nodding. “Would you know which apartment the building manager lives in?”

She didn’t. All she knew was that he was on the first floor somewhere, so after assuring her he would get the mail to Kate, Liam knocked on every door on the first floor until he found the manager, who wasn’t any more help than the old woman.

Calls to her cellphone went straight to voicemail, and she had yet to respond to any of the text messages he’d sent. He couldn’t even call her friends, because he didn’t know their last names. She’d only used their first names when she talked about them.

A smart man would have let it go, would have taken it as a sign and just walked away. But Liam never claimed to be smart. All he needed was time; he’d find her. In the meantime, he couldn’t very well keep driving around the city in that cab, so back to the airport they went, arriving ten minutes before the charter flight to the Buoys was due to leave.

There were two empty seats on the flight, and as dumb luck would have it, Liam found himself sitting next to Chuck Cagle, an MLB super-fan who had specifically booked in at the Buoys because Liam was part owner and who could barely get one question out of his mouth before the next one followed.

How was the arm? Who was Liam’s favorite player to pitch to? Had he considered coaching or commentating? Where did he keep his glove during the off-season? Would he sign something? Would he take a selfie with Chuck? Did he have any advice for Chuck’s nephew, who was only eight but, no question, was heading for the big leagues?

Liam wasn’t a total prick; he knew it was the fans who made it possible for people like him to live their dreams, so he did his best to answer as many questions as he could before they landed, but he didn’t think he’d ever been happier to see that dock come into view.

BoB
was tied up, but
Fishin’ Impossible
wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which meant Finn must be out on a run with some guests.

Jessie and Ronan greeted each of the passengers as they stepped out of the Helijet, then pointed them up toward the lodge with the assurance that there were snacks in the lobby and that their bags would be brought either up to their room or over to their assigned cabin shortly.

It wasn’t until all of them were taken care of that Ro slapped Liam on the back and Jessie finally smiled up at him.

“It’s good to have you back.” With her big, warm smile, Jessie hugged him gently before putting him to work. “Grab a bag, will you?”

She didn’t give him a second to relax or get settled, because once the bags had been sorted, they needed to be delivered, the bar needed tending, and Olivia needed a hand in the kitchen. Ronan begged off, disappearing down to the dock, claiming boat maintenance as an excuse.

“Got to get it done before Finn gets back, in case they need my help in the fish shack.”

If nothing else went right all season, just hearing Ro say that, knowing they’d been right to burn the old shack down, would have been enough for Liam.

With his right arm still strapped up, it took him twice as long to deliver luggage as it should have, but he got it done, then headed straight into the bar to take orders and help serve up pints. Even without the old man, they kept the place running pretty much the same, so once Finn returned with his group, he and Ro did a quick but thorough run-through on the boat and then joined everyone in the pub for dinner.

It was good to be back, to have everyone there. But not everyone
was
there, and even though it was driving him crazy, he couldn’t start questioning Jessie about Kate until the guests were all taken care of. Since the day Kate left, Jessie had denied knowing anything, and Liam had been too blindsided to think clearly enough to doubt her.

But lately he’d doubted it all the time. Whenever he brought Kate’s name up, Jessie had found a way to change the subject, and she’d continued to deny knowing why Kate left or where she’d gone—but that was easy to do over the phone.

In person, face-to-face, it wasn’t going to be as easy.

He’d just have to bide his time until the guests were all settled, because that’s what the Buoys did: They made their guests feel like family. Even Olivia came out of the kitchen to have a few laughs with the guests.

With a drink order in hand, Liam edged up next to the bar, where Jessie stood working the taps. “Where’s the other guy? The friend of Olivia’s that you hired?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Her gaze darted across the room to Finn, who immediately excused himself from the guests he’d been talking to and headed toward the bar.

“What’s up?” he asked. There was something in his half smile, almost as if he was about to say something but then didn’t, and it was probably because Ro stepped up beside him, setting a handful of empty glasses down as he did.

“D’you get something to eat?” Ro asked, lifting his chin at Liam.

“I’ll get something later.”

Jessie cleared her throat and pushed two full glasses toward Finn. “Table four.”

“But—”

“Table four,” she repeated, leaving no room for argument. “Thank you.”

“You got this?” Ro asked Jessie, apparently oblivious to whatever was going on between her and Finn. “Finn’s group all caught their limit, and since the new guy hasn’t shown up here yet, I thought Liam and I’d run down to see what’s taking so long.”

Jessie’s eyes widened a little, but before Liam could comment, she nodded and looked away.

“Yeah, of course,” she said. “I’ll, uh, yeah. Go. We’re good here.”

Without the ability to grip anything in his right hand, Liam couldn’t gut, clean, or fillet anything, but he could help clean up, which seemed to be what he’d be doing all summer anyway, so with a quick nod, he grabbed an extra bucket from the kitchen and headed down to the shack.

Chapter 13

It ain’t over ’til it’s over.

—Yogi Berra

Kate had the fish cleaned, cut, sorted, and stacked in the freezer in record time, but no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t leave the shack. For the better part of six weeks now, she’d convinced herself that she’d done the right thing, that basically strong-arming the rest of them to go along with her plan was the right thing—the best thing—for Liam.