By the time the team checked into their next hotel, Andiehad forwarded the two fake emails she’d received from someone claiming her bosswanted an Anderson Home. One included an attachment, which he didn’t open. Notyet. The emails looked so professional, so legit. Even for Yamila, this wasover the top.
Heforwarded the emails to Tom, then lay back on his bed and plugged his earbudsinto his computer. No need for his roommate to listen in.
Pumpinga stress ball, Beckett opened the attachment and viewed the clip. It left himwith an urge to wash the stink off, but his teammate beat him to the bathroom.Cueing it up again, he forced himself to watch a second time, but he stoppedbefore the end and hurled the stress ball across the room.
Hisphone buzzed.
“Whoa,dude, you’re my hero,” Tom guffawed. “I nominate you for Stallion of the Year.”
“Canyou stop her?” Beckett growled. “And keep her away from Paige Anderson? I don’twant her exposed to Yamila’s raving insanity any more than she already hasbeen. Paige isn’t used to this shit, and it’s tough on her.”
“Firsttell me if you recognize it.”
“Yesand no. Yes, that’s me with Yamila, and I recognize her place in Denver. Thelast time I was there was the day I learned about Blake Beaufort in youroffice. If you remember, you and I grabbed a few drinks.”
“Iremember. And the ‘no’ part of the equation?”
“No,she absolutely did not have my consent in any way, shape, or form. I hadno fucking idea she was taping this. I was wasted that night—so wasted,in fact, that I haven’t touched coke since—but I wasn’t so fucked up I’d letmyself be taped.”
“That’swhat I thought. It’s time I had a few come-to-Jesus meetings, starting with herpublicist. When I’m done, it’ll be clear that any hope for Yamila’squote-unquote career will be nuked if she keeps harassing you. Thenthere’s Yamila’s very rich husband, the deep pocket who’s anal about his lowprofile. He’ll be willing to do just about anything to keep his wife’s badbehavior under wraps. Can you say settlement?”
“Jesus,so this is what it comes to? A lawsuit?”
“Moneytalks. It may not have to go that far, but she’s playing a vicious game, andshe’s dealt you the winning hand, buddy.”
“Imight feel good about that if I weren’t so damn pissed off. Tom, you’ll takecare of wiping this and any other recording from the planet?”
“Considerit done.”
“Thanks,Tom.” If only you could wipe it from Andie’s memory.
CHAPTER 29
I Miss You
Paige unbuttoned her jeans and let out a relieved exhale.She rubbed her belly. “How we doing today, my little prince?” She chuckled toherself. “Sorry, if you’re a girl, princess.” Wonder how soon I’ll feel youmove? Devastated when she’d learned she was pregnant, now she lived with acalm contentment—when she wasn’t wrestling her fears over childbirth or raisinga baby alone. A certain peace came with knowing she wouldn’t be childless. Justpartnerless. And she was mostly okay with that because her two choices wereunacceptable. With trust a broken relic, neither man was a long-term option.
“Andspeaking of choices …” Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Why was this sohard? It had been weeks since she’d told Beckett, but Adrian still didn’t knowshe might be carrying his child. She hadn’t even brought herself to send aone-sided email.
Abackache had plagued her since she’d wakened, so she granted herself yetanother pass and downed two Tylenol before clicking on the TV. A Saturdaymatinee hockey game. Blizzard against the Flyers in Philly—it wouldn’t hurt towatch while she waited for the pills to kick in. Those silly credit cardlookalikes were having a phone conversation about frogs or fraud. The game cameback on, and Beckett filled her screen, his helmetless head cocked to the side,a gloved hand resting on his stick as he listened to a reporter’s questionrink-side. Paige sucked in a breath, willing her heart not to gallop from herchest.
“Yourblond highlights are almost gone, Beck,” she lamented aloud.
Theinterviewer shoved the mic in Beckett’s face. His eyes darted to her, then tooka tour left, right, overhead as he answered. “This team’s got a lot ofcharacter. We’re playing for these great fans, this great city, and for eachother. Right now we’re taking it one day at a time.”
Paigebelted out a laugh. “Oh my God, you are Mr. Cliché!” To her belly, shewhispered, “That handsome rogue might be your papa, little prince. Good genepool, though character’s a bit iffy. But never mind. You and I will manage onour own.” Somehow.
Shehadn’t heard the next question, but she did catch Beckett’s tight smile as heglanced at the dark-haired, perfectly made-up woman.
“Thosedays are in the past. I’m here to help the team get to the playoffs.” Hesported a warning frown.
“Ismore modeling in your future?” The reporter waved the microphone in his faceagain.
Amuscle in his jaw jumped. “Hockey comes first.”
“Andwhat can we tell the women in the audience about your availability?”
Thischick is way off base!
ApparentlyBeckett agreed. “Is this interview about hockey?” His tone was icy.
Thereporter laughed. “Thanks for your time, Beckett. Have a great game.”
Henodded and skated away.
“Sorry,ladies. It seems Beckett Miller’s private life is off-limits these days. But ifyou’re a Beckett Miller fan, stick around. We have a treat in store.”
Paige’sstomach cramped. Why did this make her sick? Commercials over, the prettyinterviewer was back. “We promised you a treat. Grant Paul released picturesfrom their upcoming ad campaign featuring our very own number twenty. Atalented hockey player and a hunk. Ladies, you can thank uslater.”
Amontage of Beckett in various elegant suits flashed across the screen. Thebackdrops were muted desert-scapes or mirrored casino windows reflectingsunlight in shimmering golds. Most were stills, but others showed a somberBeckett striding, spraying on cologne, or shrugging on a jacket. The last photodepicted him relaxing on a chaise by a sparkling pool, a glass of champagne athis feet and a sleek blond woman reclining on a half wall behind him. His tiewas loose, as though he were relaxing at the end of a party. It was the onlyshot with another model.
God,the man was beautiful.
Theaccursed interviewer was back, her mic hovering before a Flyers fan’s face.
“Whatdid you think?” The interviewer’s fake smile displayed her shiny
