The Devil in Denim (11 page)

Hana shook her head, the thin gold hoops she wore bouncing wildly. “Not as far as I know.” She grinned suddenly. “There was nothing wrong with him last night.”

Maggie groaned. “Don’t tell me. You two are an old married couple. Aren’t you meant to stop having constant sex at some point?”

“Have you seen my husband? Besides, this is the one time of year he’s home a lot and not half exhausted. I’m not going to waste the opportunity.”

“According to you he does pretty well even when he is half exhausted.”

Hana’s expression turned smug, glee dancing in her eyes. “Yes. Yes, he does. Maybe that’s what you need?”

Maggie grinned. “To sleep with your husband?”

“Ha-ha. It is to laugh. Not him. But someone. Nothing like a few screaming orgasms to brighten a girl’s outlook on life.”

“I have more important things to worry about.”

“Sex is important. Exercise, endorphins, and did I mention the screaming orgasms?”

“And who is supposed to supply these screaming orgasms?” Maggie asked, then wished she hadn’t. Buying into Hana’s flights of fancy when she got into one of her “let’s fix Maggie up” moods never resulted in anything good.

Hana gestured upward vaguely. “There’s a whole building full of hot men above our heads.”

“You know I don’t date team members.” Not since Ollie at least. The awkward six months or so after they’d first parted company—a time when half the guys wouldn’t talk to her and the other half gave her speculative glances—had taught her not to fish off the company pier. Too much potential for disaster.

“There are plenty of nonplayers around. There’s that cute IT guy. And Ronnie and Gio on the massage team. Not to mention three very hot new owners.”

“Oh yes, because dating one of them would be so much better than dating a player. Nothing could possibly go wrong dating the boss.”

“Who said anything about dating?” Hana asked. “A few nights in the sack. The big one looks like fun. And a surgeon has to know what to do with his hands.”

“No!”

Hana’s smile turned positively evil. “What? You prefer Alex? I don’t think he’d take much convincing. He had trouble taking his eyes off you last night.”

“Shut up. He did not.”

“Did too. I thought he and Ollie were going to fight a duel or something.” Hana batted her eyelashes. “So romantic.”

“You’ve been watching too much historical drama again. Go wash your imagination out with soap.”

“Nope. Not my imagination. I know the signs of a guy who has got his eyes on someone.”

“Well, that’s too bad for him. Alex Winters is just about the last guy on earth I would want to date—or anything else your warped mind can come up with.”

“Why? He’s smokin’. If I weren’t so very happily married, I’d do him.”

“Han!” Maggie glanced around the parking garage, hoping like hell that Mal Coulter hadn’t had time to install any security upgrades. Like security cameras with sound. That was the last thing she needed, Alex and his two cronies hearing her best friend debating their sexual merits.

“Maggie!” Hana parroted back. “It’s not a terrible idea. When was the last time you got laid anyway? You stopped seeing that grad-school dude about six months ago. Tell me you’ve gotten some since then.”

“I—” Maggie stopped, thinking about it. When had it been? Evan had been more like seven months ago when she counted back. And then there’d been a blur of final assignments and exams and the end of the season and then Christmas. Of course there were fingers and vibrators but she didn’t think Hana would count those.

“Christ, you need to get out more if you can’t even remember,” Hana said. Before she’d settled down with Brett, Hana had never gone long without a man. Maggie knew that all too well. Hana told hilarious stories about sneaking around during her Olympic prep to escape the eagle eye of her very traditional coach who believed that sex would take away from her vital energies or something. Or maybe it was that unmarried women shouldn’t have sex at all. Whatever the reason, Hana had never made a secret of the fact that she enjoyed men both in and out of bed, and she found Maggie’s ability to actually take a few months’ break between relationships somewhat mystifying.

“Give it up, Hana. I am not going to sleep with my boss.”

“We’ll see,” Hana said. “Let me think about other possibilities. I’ll ask Shelly. She knows everyone.”

“God. The two of you are like a broken record. Now, are you going to let me out of the car so I can actually get some work done?”

“Hey, you were the one banging her head on the steering wheel. I just stopped to make sure you weren’t sucking down carbon monoxide. Not a pretty way to die.”

“Thanks. You’re all heart.”

Hana stepped back so Maggie could climb out. She fell into step beside her when Maggie headed for the elevator.

“Weren’t you leaving?” Maggie asked.

“Nope.” Hana patted the huge black bag she carted everywhere. “One glove still to be delivered. And one best friend to escort through the building to make sure she doesn’t wimp out and leave.”

“I am not going to wimp out.”

“Good. If you play your cards right, then you can have Alex Winters eating out of the palm of your hand and you’ll be helping him run the place before you know it.”

“Nice theory.” Maggie pushed the elevator call button and began the wait for the lift to descend. It was pretty slow even on a good day. Maybe Alex would upgrade it as part of his plans. It would be nice to be able to get upstairs in less than five minutes occasionally. “But I don’t think that Alex Winters is a pushover. Or the kind of man to be bamboozled by female wiles.” He had some pretty good male wiles of his own. Not to mention that very healthy ego. In her experience it was the guys who were not quite so secure as they made out who fell prey to women trying to manipulate them. She’d seen it often with the younger players. And some of the older ones. But the really great ones. The ones with a solid belief in themselves and their abilities? Those were the ones who could pick a schemer at fifty paces. The ones like Brett who picked good women like Hana. Even if Hana was a nutcase at times.

“You’ll never know until you try.”

“I’d prefer to actually show him what I can do and get him to take me seriously.”

“Well, sure. You can do that too but a bit of sex appeal can’t hurt. It’ll make your brains even more of a surprise. So what are you wearing to the party?”

“Party? What party?” The elevator door dinged and the doors slid open with a rattle.

“The one that Alex was talking about last night,” Hana said as they stepped in. “The belated Christmas party. Big shindig? Remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” Maggie said.

“So you need a killer dress. If Alex wants you to play hostess, you’ve gotta outdress all us WAGs. And we’re pretty hot.” Hana struck a pose worthy of a Victoria’s Secret angel and pouted.

“I gave up trying to outdress you years ago.”

“That was your first mistake.” Hana looked her up and down, considering. “Short. Slinky. Show off your legs. Good heels and a bit of glitter. Got anything like that?”

Maggie thought of the sparkling silver stilettos that had been one of her European purchases. “I have shoes. Silver and spiky.”

“It’s a start. So we need the dress. Not black and not red. Too many of those girls—” “Those girls” being Hana’s term for the players’ girlfriends who weren’t long-term or serious. “They’ll do the obvious thing. Little black dress. Or slutty red.”

“Short and slinky is kind of slutty, isn’t it?”

“Good slutty, not obvious slutty. There’s a difference.”

“I’ll take your word for it. But slutty of any kind isn’t my highest priority right now.”

“So why’d you buy the shoes? Shoes like that need slutty to pull them off.”

“They were sparkly,” Maggie said. “I was celebrating. Slutty didn’t come into it.”

“Well, it does now. So. You go and dazzle Alex and then we’ll go shopping.”

“I’m supposed to be working.”

“Have you signed a contract yet? No. So he’ll hardly be expecting you to work all day. He asked you in for a meeting, right? Not to come in to work.”

“I guess.”

“See. I’m right. You do meeting, I’ll deliver the precious glove, and then we’ll hit the shops. I can call Shelly and see if she can meet us at Bergdorf.”

“Shelly is working.”

“Ha! Buying dresses is part of her job. She needs to look the part.”

“She hates paying retail though.”

“All the more reason to call her. She can share her latest bargain-hunting secrets.”

Maggie sighed, giving in. It would be easier in the long run. “Fine. Shopping it is. I’ll buy a dress. But don’t go getting any crazy ideas about me and Alex.”

“I don’t need crazy ideas, it’s reality.”

“Hana. Listen. Never. Gonna. Happen.”

“Famous last words,” Hana said as the elevator opened again at the second floor, where the team doctor, Stan Jones—Indy as the guys had dubbed him much to his chagrin—had his suite of treatment rooms, to reveal Alex standing near the fire exit door talking to Lucas and Mal. Just as she spotted him, he threw back his head and laughed, and Maggie felt a traitorous hitch in her pulse.

“Yeah, he’s hideous,” Hana whispered beside her. And as Alex turned and caught sight of them and a smile widened on his face, she added, “And not happy to see you at all.”

“Oh, go give your husband his glove,” Maggie growled. Hana just smirked and gave Alex a little wave as she walked past him and headed off to find Brett.

Maggie stayed where she was, telling herself that Hana was crazy and that Alex was her boss and that was that.

“Right on time,” Alex said as he stepped in to join her. “I thought you might have got stuck in traffic. Mal said there was a pileup on the Verrazano.”

No such luck
. “I took the ferry. Are Lucas and Malachi going to join us? I haven’t really met them properly.”

“They’ll come up later. I thought it would be best if it was just the two of us first. Easier to strike a deal that way.”

He should know. “Well, I don’t come cheap,” Maggie said with a crooked smile.

“I didn’t think you would,” Alex said as the doors closed, making the elevator feel suddenly way too small. His dimples flashed. “Nothing worth the trouble ever does.”

“So you think I’m trouble?” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. She was half horrified at the vaguely flirty tone to her voice.

Alex cocked his head. “Maybe,” he said. “But then again, I like trouble.”

“Is that why you became a corporate raider?”

“Corporate raider? Wow. You make me sound like I swoop in to buy up companies and strip them for parts after a bit of rape and pillage.”

“Well, don’t you?”

“Not usually. I look for undervalued companies, sure, but I prefer them to be undervalued because the market hasn’t seen their potential, not because they’re going under.”

“Then why’d you buy the Saints?”

“You don’t think the Saints have potential?” Alex leaned in a little. Just a fraction. Just enough to make her skin tingle.

“I, uh—”

“Because I see potential here,” Alex said. “Lots of it.”

“I, uh—” Was it hotter here in the elevator? Damn Hana and her ridiculous ideas. She’d planted sex in Maggie’s head and now she was imagining things. She stared up at the row of floor numbers over the door, willing them to light up faster.

“And, Ms. Jameson,” Alex added, “I’m very good at bringing potential to life. I find it very … satisfying.”

Damn it. That was definitely flirting. Wasn’t it? Maybe Hana wasn’t so crazy after all. Damn and bugger and more damn. Because she had meant what she said. She wasn’t going to get involved with her boss, let alone the man who’d ruined her life. Potential or no potential.

Chapter Seven

Maggie followed Alex to his office but hesitated in the doorway, taken by the same sense of strangeness she’d felt the previous day because of the different décor.

Alex waved her in. “Have a seat.” He crossed to the tall cabinet near the window, folded one of the doors to reveal the rows of glasses and the small fridge. “Would you like a drink?” He drew out a bottle of mineral water and looked back over his shoulder. “You probably know what’s in here better than I do.”

She did. And she didn’t need the reminder. She made herself walk across the room, taking off her coat. “I’ll have a Coke.” She wanted the caffeine but didn’t want him to have to call for coffee. She didn’t want to see anybody else just yet. Not until she knew what was going on.

“Regular, diet, or zero?”

“Fully loaded.”

Alex handed her a can and a glass. He held out her hand for her coat. “Can I take that?”

“Do you mind if I just hang it up?” She nodded toward the other side of the cabinet.

“Be my guest.” He turned back to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a glass of mineral water.

Maggie opened the door of the coat closet and then froze. Normally the closet was stuffed full of her dad’s jackets—his battered leather Saints jacket, his suits waiting to be cleaned, and several generations of Saints windbreakers in various states of disintegration. But today there was just one long black winter coat. Alex’s. Which gave her a clear view of the back of the closet and the row of notches marking the door frame. She sucked in a breath.

“Is something wrong?” Alex asked.

She stared at the marks, ran a finger up the wood, each notch bumping her finger. “I’d forgotten about these.”

“About what?” Alex joined her, peering over her shoulder.

The highest notch was slightly deeper than the others. “Dad did these.”

“What are they?”

“They’re me. Every year on my birthday, Dad used to measure me. Well, until I was eighteen.”

“Huh.” Alex squatted down and looked at the lowest mark. “How old were you here?”

“Two? Three? I’m not sure.” She couldn’t remember it not being part of her birthday ritual. Cake with all the Saints staff, being measured by her dad, getting a new Saints cap, and then whatever party her mom—while she’d been alive at least—had organized. It hadn’t ever felt like her birthday until she’d been able to run her finger over the newest notch and see her dad smile as he told her how much she’d grown. After her mom had died, the parties had been organized by players’ wives, employees, or whoever had decided to take her under their wing that year, but that hadn’t mattered because she could still do the birthday ritual with her dad. “Forever,” she said, half to herself.