The Devil in Denim (17 page)

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Authors: Melanie Scott

BOOK: The Devil in Denim
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“The up-and-comer is you, I take it?”

“Yep.”

Alex tapped the table a couple of times with his hands. A little drumroll to build her anticipation … at least that’s what her mind insisted on calling it.

“You’re sure you want to hear the answer?”

No
. She bit down the response.
Suck it up, Jameson
. “Yes. Don’t worry. I’m not going to cry.”

“I’m not worried about you crying. I’m worried about the way you can swing a baseball bat,” he said with a half shrug.

“Is that a joke?”

He paused, then gave her the other half of the shrug. “Not entirely.”

“You think I’d smash up your office if I got mad enough?”

“People do some crazy shit when they’re mad.” He offered a smile.

“I’m not the smash-up-the-office type. I’m Saint Maggie, remember?”

“I remember.” He paused, and she waited for him to say something about the fact that she hadn’t been so saintly on Saturday night. To bring up the kissing. But he didn’t. “Even saints can be pushed too far.”

What did that mean? “Just tell me.”

He tapped his fingers again. “Okay. Then yes. Yes. I think he made the right decision.”

“You’d have done the same thing?”

A nod.

“Why?”

“To get out of an unredeemable situation. He didn’t have the money to pull the Saints out of their hole without jeopardizing everything else he’d built. Which would be dumb.”

“Dumb?”

“Baseball’s not as important as his family’s security. Or all the other people he employs elsewhere.”

Neither was she apparently. “What about the people he employs here?”

“Well, he was handing them over to someone who did have the money. Who could make sure that they stayed employed rather than having them lose everything or being forced to sell when they were in an even worse position in a few months.”

“What if there was something he hadn’t tried?”

“From what I understand, he’d tried. He’d done all the things I would’ve done.”

“Maybe neither of you can think far enough outside the box.”

“And you could have, is that what you think?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I could have tried. I wouldn’t have just given up. On the team. On—” She bit back the words.

“On you?” Alex asked. “What did he say to you?”

“He said that I couldn’t do it. And that if I failed, I’d be finished in baseball.” She flushed, the sting of it biting all over again. Her father didn’t think she could do the job. Didn’t have faith in her. He could wrap it up in pretty words about not wanting her to miss her chance all he wanted but that was what it boiled down to. He didn’t believe in her. She ducked her head, stared down at her lap, plucking imaginary lint off her trousers as her eyes pricked and stung.

“He was trying to protect you,” Alex said.

“He didn’t trust me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“If he trusted me, he would have let me try.”

“Sometimes you can’t do what you want to do. Sometimes you have to make the tough call.”

“Is that what you’ll do?” she asked. “If you can’t pull this off? Will you just bail on the Saints too?”

“We’re a long way from that decision.”

“But what would you do?” she persisted.

“It’s not just my decision. Lucas and Mal would have a say as well.”

“But you’d walk away?”

“If I had to. Not until I’d tried everything I could. Not without doing what I could to get the best outcome. That’s what Tom’s done.”

Easy for him to say. He was the one who’d gotten what he wanted out of the situation.

She looked away again, not even knowing what she wanted to hear him say. If there even was anything that could make her feel better.

“I’m not going to apologize for buying the Saints,” Alex said. “If you’re looking for sorry, you need to talk to your dad.”

“I didn’t ask you to apologize.” Though it wouldn’t have hurt.

“Good. Because you said you could work with me. So you need to deal with whatever you need to deal with and move on. We can have this conversation a hundred times and it won’t change the reality of the situation. Or we can get to work.”

“Can we?”

He put his hands on his hips. “I guess that’s kind of up to you.”

“I’m not talking about the sale. I’m talking about the party. The mistletoe. And … afterward. You broke the rules.” And broke them so damn well.

“You didn’t resist all that hard.”

“True. Which makes me wonder if this is such a good idea after all.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t have to get in the way of anything unless you let it. You say no, I don’t touch you.”

“I say no and you just forget about it?”

“I didn’t say I’d forget, I said I’d keep my hands off you.”

He made it sound easy. Which was a little insulting in a crazy way. “You wouldn’t try to change my mind?”

“There might be a little trying,” he admitted. “I told you, I’m good at spotting potential. I think we proved the potential on Saturday.”

Yes, yes, they had. But hey, both really needed to forget about it. “I thought you said you didn’t date employees?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, then, this should be settled.”

His eyes glinted. “There’s always the exception that proves the rule. There’s good sense and then there’s cutting off your nose to spite your face. We’re both adults. We could make it work.”

“What if I tell you to take your potential and shove it?”

“Well, firstly, I don’t think you will. But if you did, I guess I’d have to try and get on with life.”

“Go potential hunting elsewhere?”

“Well, that wouldn’t be any of your business, would it? You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Saint Maggie. If you don’t want me, you have to throw me back and let someone else take their shot.”

She definitely didn’t like that idea. She rubbed her temples irritably. It wasn’t even ten
A.M.
and she already had a headache. Maybe she was crazy to think she could make this work, that she could ignore what was between her and Alex and just get on with things. Maybe she should walk away. But that meant giving up on the Saints.

Not to mention the potential …

“Can we shelve the subject for now?” She sighed. “After all, we have plenty of work to do.”

 

Chapter Ten

They were stealing her cookies. She eyed the level of her favorite chocolate chip pecan in the jar on her desk and put the lid back on. Okay, so technically they were Shonda’s cookies because she was the one who made them for Maggie, but that didn’t mean that the terrible trio could just keep raiding Maggie’s stash.

But they did. Several times a day, one of them wandered by with a task for her. Mal wanting a stadium tour or a rundown of the security staff and the history of incidents at the ballpark. Lucas wanting to talk about players and form. And Alex. Alex sticking his head around the door and derailing her train of thought every time he smiled and delivered another request in a perfectly professional and polite tone.

They smiled, they requested, they drilled her on baseball stats—this apparently being their idea of fun—and then they helped themselves to her cookies and left. There was a metaphor in there somewhere even if, deep down, she should probably be thankful that they were stopping her stress eating her body weight in fat and sugar.

She wanted one now. Wanted the rich taste of chocolate on her tongue and the crunch of nuts. Hell, she wanted more than one. It was only Thursday and the three of them were already making her feel like she was sprinting just to keep up.

They all sucked up information like computers. And she felt like she was being used as some sort of walking, talking
Saints for Dummies.
Only Alex, Mal, and Lucas were no dummies. They rarely had to be reminded of anything she’d told them and they were on the go from first thing in the morning until late at night.

Thorough.

Competent.

Dedicated.

The three of them were very similar in that way even if they seemed to have different temperaments.

Alex was definitely the most open and charming of the three. The front man, so to speak. But a front man was nothing without a genius band behind him and Mal and Lucas definitely had chops. The three of them were an intimidating combination and it made her push herself even harder to keep up and show them she was worth keeping around.

“How’s that report going?”

She jumped, looked up to see Alex, and ignored the little bump of awareness that tightened her stomach muscles. “It’s good. I need a few more hours.” She had spent nearly all day on the report, pulling information about the Saints’ wealthiest ticket holders and sponsors and doing a brain dump of everything she knew about them. Then adding to that by grilling Shonda, Hana, Shelly, and using all her powers of Google-fu.

Alex came over to her desk, studied the pile of file folders she’d been piling up during the week. “Okay.”

“Did you want something else?” she asked, hoping she could move him on. Her office was little more than a cubicle. Too small for two people. Especially when one of them smelled as good as he did. Too much. Too close. She picked up the cookie jar, held it out. “One of these?”

He looked amused but he took a cookie. “Thanks.” He took a bite of the cookie. “These are really good.”

“So you keep telling me.” She put the jar back and made a vague gesture at her desk. “Well, I’d better get on with this…”

“Sure. Come see me when you’re done.”

It was an innocuous statement but it made her pulse bump again. Stupid pulse. She didn’t like how much she was starting to look forward to the time she spent with him. Even though he’d stuck to his word and was keeping things purely professional, it was fascinating to talk to him, to see how his mind worked, how he dealt with the thousand and one problems laid at his feet for solving each day. All without batting an eyelid.

In his place, she’d probably be mainlining cookies, trying to keep all the balls in the air.

She turned to watch him go.

The boss, she reminded herself. Then turned back to the computer screen, her foot tapping restlessly as she tried to remember what she’d been about to type before he’d interrupted her.

Her hand stole back toward the cookie jar as she skimmed the last few notes she’d made. A few more hours, she’d said. She wanted the report to be perfect. She didn’t want it to bounce back to her with a list of politely professional further questions. Though she wasn’t sure if that was her professional pride or her increasing annoyance at his unbreachable façade talking.

Damn it.

She definitely needed a cookie.

*   *   *

Alex was hanging up the phone as Maggie approached his desk. He smiled as he pushed his chair back, looking satisfied. “I thought you might have gone home.”

She shook her head. It was only a little after seven. True, many of the Saints’ administration team had left for the day, but she’d been working as late as him all week. “I said I’d finish this for you today.” She handed him the neatly bound report. “There’s a copy in your e-mail and I cc’d Mal and Lucas.”

“Thanks.” He took the folder and flipped it open, flicked through the first few pages. “This is great. Looks like I’ve got some studying up to do.”

“You probably know the basics about most of them already.”

“The basics aren’t enough. I need to get up to speed. We all do.”

“You could make flash cards,” she suggested. “Drill yourself. Or have your minions make flash cards and get them to drill you.”

“Most of my minions are busy running my other companies while I’m here.”

“Well, you could go back to them and leave this to me,” she said.

He smiled.

Her stomach curled.

Damn it.

“Nice try, but I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned back in his chair, stretched, then stood and came around his desk. She started to step back and caught herself. She needed to act like she didn’t care, not shy like a startled horse. Alex passed her and crossed over to the window. Thankfully. He stretched again, the moves molding his white shirt close to his body. She looked away, trying not to notice. He turned back.

“It hasn’t been that bad, has it? Working with me this week? I think we’ve done well so far.”

“Well?”

“You’re doing a good job. We make a good team.” His tone was bland but there was a spark in his eyes. Or was there? Maybe she was imagining it.

“Thanks,” she managed.

“Have you eaten? I’m starving.”

The four of them had eaten so much late-night pizza already that week that Maggie didn’t think she could face another round. Besides, she’d scarfed down about four cookies before she’d stopped herself. Really, she was going to have to start working out again.

“No, I’m good.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “You had cookies for dinner.”

“What makes you think there are any cookies left? The three of you have been eating them all week.”

“There were still some in the jar earlier.”

“No thanks to the three of you,” she said. “You shouldn’t be hungry either.”

“I’ve talked up an appetite,” he said. “Damned teleconferences. I’ve had four in a row this afternoon. Remind me to remind Mal to get the video conference working.”

“Okay. I might have a couple of cookies left.” She’d locked the box in her bottom desk drawer and tried desperately to forget they were there. “Do you want me to go see? They’re good.”

Alex cocked his head at her, something speculative shimmering in his eyes. “No, thanks. It’s not cookies I’m hungry for.”

“Alex…”

“Just checking in. It’s been four days. Any further thoughts on … potential?”

She bit her lip. “Still thinking.”

His mouth quirked. “Well, that’s not a no, at least.” He stepped closer to her, reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair back from her cheek. “Or is it?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Anything I can do to help speed up the decision process?” He leaned in a little.

Too close. She couldn’t think when he was this close. Didn’t want to think. Just wanted to
feel
. Which scared her. But she didn’t step away.

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