Rush to the Altar (18 page)

Maddie had to excuse herself again. She stood in the dark kitchen and pressed on her temples, her head pounding like a migraine was coming on. When would they call? She was ready to get it over with and show up at the bank, but she had no idea who to talk to. The waiting, the pretending for Max that everything was normal again, the anger that was building inside her every time she pictured Brandon with that—

She took a long breath. No. She couldn’t let herself think like that. She had to be strong—for Max.

Jake’s face flashed across her mind. Her face flooded with heat. What would he think of her now?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

M
addie couldn’t believe she was sitting at her desk trying to work as if everything was normal. Her emotions swung the gamut from horrified to depressed to mad as a hornet and jumpy at every sound, waiting for the investigator to call or show up. She wished Brandon was alive so she that she could strangle him to death.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she not have seen? Her mind replayed the last year of Brandon’s life over and over, trying to put the pieces together. There had been sudden business trips, long weekends where she had been alone with Max, waiting for her loving husband to walk through the door. But they’d been so excited about this job, his first real professional job that made good money. She’d been happy to make the sacrifice. It was for them, for her and Max, he’d always assured her, and their future.

She was so lost in thought, staring at her computer monitor, that she didn’t even hear her office phone ringing until it had stopped and started ringing again.

“Hello. This is Maddie Goode,” she answered automatically.

“Maddie. Oh good, you’re there.” It was Jake.

“Jake?” Oh no, what was she going to say to Jake? She couldn’t tell him about Brandon. It was too shocking and excruciating and…humiliating. What would he think of her? Of the fool she’d been? She had ignored a text he’d sent a few days ago. He’d been preoccupied too, though, with two away games, which had given her some time.

“Hey, I just wanted to call and thank you for Thanksgiving dinner. And I really liked that church.”

“Oh, sure. No problem. I’m glad you liked it.” Her voice sounded as dead as she felt inside.

“Maddie? Is everything okay? I know I’ve busy but I’ve thought of you every day. I hope you’re not angry.”

“Um, no. I understand. Everything’s fine. What are you up to?” She tried to sound normal, but knew she was failing miserably.

“I’m at home.” There was a pause and then, “I’d like to take you out again. You know, a real dinner date this time. Would you like to go out this weekend?”

Maddie panicked. “I can’t.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry but…Jake, I can’t see you anymore.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end that made her heart ache. She had to be strong and she didn’t want to argue with him, so she plunged ahead, burning any bridge that might tempt her later. “I don’t…” She took a deep breath. “I have decided that I don’t want a man in my life right now.”

“I don’t believe you.” His voice was raw. “Maddie, what has happened?”

“I can’t tell you anything that’s going to make sense to you. You should forget you ever met me, okay? I’m not worth it. Listen, I wish the best for you but I’m just not the one for you. Goodbye, Jake.” It was hard, but she closed her eyes and slowly hung up the phone.

~~~~~~

Jake stood in his jeans and socks, hearing the click but not believing it. Anger and confusion coursed through him, making his head pound. Something had happened, he was sure of it. Something was terribly wrong. Hitting the “end” button, he tossed the phone on the bed, went to his closet and threw on the first shirt he grasped. She wasn’t going to get off that easy.

He drove over to the offices, growing angrier and angrier in the SUV. He parked, tires screeching and echoing in the parking garage, and hurried up the marble stairs to the glass doors. The receptionist’s face lit up with a big smile as he came out of the elevator. He didn’t even slow down, just turned down the hall and went to Maddie’s office. He burst through the door, finding her sitting at her desk staring with a blank look on her face at the computer monitor.

She jerked at the noise and turned toward him. For an instant he saw relief, then she became closed and determined.

“Jake.”

“What’s going on, Maddie? Tell me the truth this time.”

Maddie sighed and motioned to a chair. She got up, poured Jake a cup of coffee from her own little coffee station set up on an antique buffet against the back wall of her office, putting two creams in and stirring it for him. Handing him the delicate cup, she took a deep breath and sat down. “Let me ask you a question,” she began, more serious than he had ever seen her.

“Okay.” He felt his guard rise, knowing that whatever she was about to say she was convinced and resolute.

“When you decided you wanted to become an NBA player, I mean really decided that nothing else would do and that you would sacrifice anything to have it, what was that moment like?”

“Maddie, what’s going on?” He sat the coffee down and stared at her.

“Just go with this, okay? I’m getting to it.”

Jake’s eyebrows knitted together as he thought back. “There were different stages to it, I guess. First my dad encouraged me, played ball with me all the time, signed me up for every team and workshop available. But at some point it started to become my dream.”

“Was there a moment? A crossroads, I mean? Where you had to decide if it was worth all the work and sacrifice and the letting go of other paths in life, other choices?”

Jake nodded. “I guess there was. In college. I was playing pretty good ball, but one day the coach and I had a talk, one on one, and he made me see that I was going to have to work a lot harder, become single-mindedly focused on my goal if I was going to have a chance to succeed. I decided then that I wanted it. And I played better. That was really the beginning of my training for the NBA.”

Maddie nodded, folding her hands together on top of her pretty desk. “All my life I’ve pretty much gone with the flow. I went to college because that’s what everyone did. But I didn’t really know what I wanted to do or be. The only thing I ever remember daydreaming about as a little girl was being a wife and a mother.” She shrugged. “We all know those things aren’t enough in today’s world. So I tried to think of what I wanted to do as a career, but I didn’t feel passionate about anything besides being a singer, and I didn’t think that would make a living. Then I met Brandon and got married and after having Max I really felt like my life was perfect…my dreams had come true.”

She took a long breath, her hands clasped so tight her fingers turned white. “But I was wrong. It was all a lie, more than you know. I still have Max and I have a job that I really like, which I am so thankful for.” She paused, obviously trying to put into words what she wanted to express to him. “Jake, I really like you. But I can’t go back to that place of floating around, never making conscious choices. Like the day you decided to become an NBA player, well, I’ve decided to take charge of my life. I’m going to find out who I am and what I want. I’m going to make decisions, hard decisions, for myself and Max. I have to do this right now and I can’t have you or any other man in my life for a while…maybe never.”

Jake tried to grasp it. He understood her point, but everything inside him screamed that she was wrong. She could find all that out with him. He wouldn’t stop her from that. And he was sure that something had happened to cause this change in her. Something she didn’t want to tell him.

He could only nod, a hollow, gnawing pain gripping his heart. He stood, knowing he was going to have to wait it out, knowing he couldn’t change her mind. “I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I understand what you’re saying. I hope…” He stopped and expelled a breath, his lips compressed, holding back the bleak emptiness that would start the minute he left this room. “I hope it all works out the way you want it to, Maddie.”

~~~~~~

Maddie choked back the clog in her throat. She’d gotten through. She’d hurt him, but she could tell that he really knew what she was talking about. It was hard, this letting go of him, but she had to know why her decisions so far had brought her to this place in life and if her judgment, her heart, could ever be trusted again.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

J
ake walked off the basketball court, shoulders drooped, a growing, gnawing pit in his stomach. They’d lost, again, and worse, his performance seemed headed for a true slump. Less than six rebounds and no points, he couldn’t really remember, which was terrifying enough, considering he had memorized every game’s stats for the last two years. It was getting pathetic, and if he didn’t find a way to climb out he was headed off the starters and on to the bench.

He jogged into the locker room with the others, listened to the coach’s lecture while wiping a towel against his forehead and neck and then letting it lay along the back of his neck, trying to put into words what was wrong.

“Hart, you better get your head back in the game. You’re a professional, not a teenager with love-life problems.”

A few of his teammates guffawed, hurriedly stopping when Jake leveled his direct stare on them. “No excuses. Get back into the game or you’re going on the bench. One more chance.”

“Yes, sir.” Jake nodded briskly. He’d do it or die trying.

After everyone had showered and dressed, Marcus came over to talk to him. “Let’s go out, man. Get your mind off that Maddie girl and onto some new horizons.”

It sounded depressing, but he found himself nodding, stuffing gear into his duffel bag, thinking he had to try something. All he knew for sure was that he didn’t want to go home, couldn’t go into that silent, empty house and try to fill the hours doing anything but picturing her determined and strained face.

They went to the new club in town owned by one of their friends. The place was dimly lit and had a Vegas feel with smoke machines, music that pulsed with synchronized lighting and lounging beds. Jake laughed as he stretched out on the bed they’d been shown to, pushing aside the gauzy drapes, kicking off his shoes. Marcus bounced down next to him, a bottle of champagne in each hand. It didn’t take long for four women, full of sensual smiles, cat’s eyes assessing, purring compliments into their ears, to take up residence on the giant, swinging bed.

Tabitha, black hair with smoky blue eyes, squeezed herself on one side of Jake, while Lisa, a shapely, quick-witted blond, pressed against his other arm. After a couple of drinks, he lifted his arm and placed it around her creamy shoulders.

The women tried to get him to dance, but he steadfastly refused. He had one goal for the evening—drink heavily so that he would sleep most of the day tomorrow. Then Monday would come and he would get his head back on and straighten out his game. Maddie was a thing of the past. Tonight he would lounge with beautiful women and forget her.

The words slurred in his head, repeating themselves. Forget her. Forget Maddie. For—get—her.

As he was thinking that, Tabitha reached up and pulled his head down to hers. Before he really understood, he found her kissing him, deep and hot. He let his eyelids fall shut, allowing the kiss to wash over him, but his insides recoiled with the feeling that it was wrong. She felt wrong, she tasted wrong, she breathed wrong—it was all wrong.

Pulling back, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and must have looked at her hard, because she stared a moment, lips compressed, eyes narrowed and then turned away and sat up, angry. Lisa had watched the ordeal.

“Give me a try, sweetheart. Maybe cold-blooded girls like Tabi aren’t your type. Maybe you like warmth and softness.”

Jake looked at her, knowing he shouldn’t, but there was something more appealing about Lisa and he shrugged. “Let’s dance first.”

“Really?” Lisa gave him a shrug and a small smile. “Who knew? The man likes foreplay.”

They went out onto the dance floor, where the current song was dying away. At the end of the song a stage came down out of the ceiling, unfolding like butterfly wings with a middle and two side sections. Lights began to dance as eerie music filled the space around them. A snow machine whirled, showering brilliant, iridescent white flakes through the colored lights, catching on clothes and eyelashes, making everyone croon in delight.

Jake and Lisa stared in growing fascination as a slight woman came out onto the stage. She looked like a shadow waif, with no light to see her face. The audience was spellbound by the sight of her and the rainbow snowflakes that held no cold. When she reached the middle of the stage she turned, her back to the audience. They held their breath, waiting for what might happen next.

Jake found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the figure on the stage. She was cold, he sensed, and afraid, holding her slim shoulders erect, waiting…waiting…for something.

The music began, building to the opening, and suddenly she turned, a spotlight lighting her to glowing brightness. She was almost too bright to look at, wearing a white shirt that tied at her waist, white leather pants with leather insets of butterflies and colorful wings scattered across her thigh and down one side. Jake’s gaze traveled up the column of her throat, noting the extra long, thick, dark waves of hair that tantalized and teased her throat and shoulders, but her face was too bright to make out from where he stood.

They all stood mesmerized by the music and her brightness when she opened her mouth and began to sing. Her voice had a lilting but raw quality that captured them into silence, stillness, rapt attention. The room grew stone silent, except for the quiet whir of the snow machine as the single notes of a piano echoing behind the power of her raspy, breathy persuasion.

Jake studied her face, feeling an uneasy grip take hold of him. His breathing quickened. He knew this woman, knew the way she held her arms, tight and still against her sides, all the strength within her bottled, held and then releasing in a slow resonance that exploded from her throat. It couldn’t be. It could not be Madeline Goode on that stage. He stared at her face, trying to see past the stage makeup, the thick, glittering eyelashes, the bright red lips, the too-white light, making her face seem unearthly. Her body contained the sound, became a living instrument, so like her and yet so unlike her. She didn’t move around on the stage, she didn’t gyrate and call attention to herself. She just closed her eyes, opened her mouth and unleashed total rule over them.