Tackled by Lisa Suzanne
CHAPTER 19
I ditch my empty wineglass at the bar, and the bartender looks at me and nods toward the glass as if to ask if I’d like another.
I shake my head.
One is probably one too many in his presence, thank you very much.
The bartender hands him another glass about the same size as the first filled with gin.
“Jack, please don’t,” I plead, and he completely ignores me as he walks away from the bar, through the reception hall, and out into the lobby. I follow him out some side doors to a deserted garden area.
He finds a bench that overlooks a cascade fountain surrounded by desert plants and flowers, and he sits. The only sound out here is of the water cascading down from one level of the fountain to the next. He rests his elbows on his knees, his half-full glass dangling from his fingertips, and he leans forward.
He blows out a long breath when I sit beside him silently. “Sometimes I just want to run away from it all.”
I want him to clarify whether he means Michelle and Calvin, me, the game of football, or some combination thereof, but I don’t move a muscle.
“I talk a lot about my inner circle, and somehow I find myself allowing you into mine.” He shakes his head as he keeps his gaze focused on the water. “I never thought I’d be confiding in the girl my boss hired to fucking babysit me, yet here we are.”
“So why are you?” I finally ask, breaking my silence.
His eyes edge to me for a beat before he turns back to the fountain. “You’ve proven I can trust you.”
My brows dip. “I have?”
“You were hired to help me make better decisions, and I can appreciate that what you said back there was in my best interest, not in Calvin’s. Not in the Aces’. But in mine.”
It’s because I’ve fallen in love with you.
“I care about you, Jack,” I say instead.
He presses his lips together. “I know you do,” he murmurs. He presses the glass to his lips and takes a sip. “And that’s why I want to tell you something.”
“What is it?” I ask, and my mind races with the millions of possibilities.
“I’ve got my eye on a plot of land. It’s got mountain and Strip views, and it’s perfect for a community with as many as a hundred home sites on it. It’s a guaranteed homerun.”
“Well...great,” I say, my tone a little unsure as I try to grasp why he’s telling me this.
He raises his brows and nods as he stares at that cascading water some more. He takes another sip of gin before he continues. “It takes some time to move on a plot of land. Between doing our due diligence with economic feasibility, environmental considerations, contractor bids, and zoning, it could realistically take a year or more before we need to come up with the full asking price.”
“The full asking price?” I repeat.
“Twelve million.”
My breath catches in my throat at that number. It sounds so astronomical, yet it’s probably pennies in his piggy bank.
I want to ask why he’s telling me this, but I also don’t want him to stop talking.
“I don’t have the money,” he admits.
“Because your money is tied up in legal battles?”
He blows out a breath. “Bingo. Roy gave me this new plot on a platter, and I needed to act fast or we’d lose it to another developer. So I put down a deposit that took everything I have left, barring my usual living expenses and money for my son to have the life he deserves since I’d never put his future in jeopardy.”
“How will you come up with the rest?” He has an entire year. Surely he could just get a loan or...I don’t know, maybe sign another sponsorship or something. I have no idea how these things work.
“My father left me money in his will.”
My brows dip as I wait for him to tell me more.
“But it was conditional. I have to be married for a year before I can cash it in.”
I gasp as it all comes together.
That is how he benefits.
He gets his money, she gets to be on her show, they both get to be there for JJ’s early years—well, at least he does, which is something he wants—and they keep bossman/daddy happy.
“When I proposed to her, I really did have the right intentions,” he continues. “And I still tell everyone that marrying her is the right thing to do. But between you and me, after she showed who she really is, everything escalated out of my control at the same time. The trade, the land, Calvin threatening the career I’ve worked so goddamn hard for. And now I find myself stuck for at least a year. I just think my inheritance will give me back some semblance of control over something.”
“Why don’t you just get a loan?” I ask.
His lips thin. “I can’t.”
My brows dip. “Why not?” A bank would love to loan someone like him all sorts of cash with plenty of interest he’d have to pay back.
“It’s complicated.” He downs the rest of the gin, and before I can form words, he stands. “I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” Please don’t let him say he’s getting more gin, I silently beg whoever’s listening.
“To take a piss. I assume you don’t need to babysit me in the restroom.”
I stay put so he knows where to find me when he returns even though my gut is telling me to go after him. My gut is also telling me to trust him. It’s confusing.
He wouldn’t have just confessed all that to me if he wanted me fired. He’s had ample opportunity to get rid of me, and instead of getting me fired, he just confessed the real reason he’s marrying Michelle.
He doesn’t have to marry her.
If he can’t get a loan, if truly his only option here is to get married so he could get that money, he could marry somebody else.
Hell, anybody would marry him so he could get his money. He doesn’t have to sink so low as to marry someone like Michelle. She may be the most convenient option, but she’s a terrible person who only wants to flaunt him.
He deserves more. He deserves to be happy. At the very least, if he feels like he has to get married to get that money, he could go for someone who he at least likes spending time around.
I would marry him, and I don’t even stand to gain anything except marrying the man I’ve already started to fall for.
The door slides open, and my heart races as I expect him to come walking out. I’m about to tell him I’ll marry him, which is absolutely crazy and I haven’t thought it through for even a second, when I glance up and find not Jack, but Vince.
I press my lips together in one of those smiles you reserve for strangers on the street when you make eye contact. I offer an awkward little wave.
“Can we talk?” Vince asks.
I stand and step away from the fountain, and I’m not sure why. I guess the fountain feels like my spot with Jack. It’s holy ground over there now, the place where he confided one of his most closely held secrets, and I don’t want to taint it with Vince.
“Go for it,” I say.
“You know Jack Dalton is engaged to someone else, right?” he asks.
“The media claims he is, yes,” I say dryly.
“The media also claims you’re his assistant.”
My brows dip. Did he just Google Jack Dalton’s personal life so he could come out here and throw accusations at me?
“So?” My tone is flippant, like I couldn’t care less what the media says.
“So why’d you show up lying that he’s your date?” he asks.
“Well, for one thing, it’s none of your concern, and for another, why do you care?” I ask, dodging his question.
“I don’t trust that guy,” he says, and he grabs my wrist. “You deserve better.”
“You don’t even know him. Or me, for that matter.” I tear my wrist out of his grip, but he reaches for my forearm this time. When he steps in a little closer, I can see he’s been drinking. A lot. Probably as much as Jack, but clearly he’s not handling his liquor with the same poise as my date.
“Get the fuck away from her,” a voice behind me snarls, and Vince doesn’t let go of his grip on me. Instead, his fingers seem to flex on my forearm.
“Or what?” Vince challenges.
“Vince, don’t,” I say sharply, mostly because I don’t know Vince, but I do know that the last thing I need right now is for someone to rile up Jack further when he’s in the current state he’s in.
I turn just in time to see Jack as he takes a half-full glass of gin in his hand and hurls it against the side of the building. “You really want to know?” he hisses.
“Jack, don’t.” My voice is less sharp this time and more pleading with those two words than in my warning to Vince.
“Yeah, tough guy,” Vince says. “I’m not scared of you.”
He should be.
Jack takes a few menacing steps toward him, and Vince doesn’t loosen his grip on my arm.
“The Broncos sucked when you were there, and it’s too damn bad for the Aces that I won’t get to cheer for them anymore.”
“The Aces don’t give a fuck about one loser,” he says. “Get your fucking hand off my girl.”
“She’s not your girl,” he spits. “You’re engaged to somebody else.”
“It’s funny that you think you know my life.” Jack’s tone is so controlled that it’s almost scary. He clenches his jaw, and it’s the only sign that he’s in any sort of distress while I can practically hear nerdy Vince’s knees knocking together as his hand has started to tremble where it grips my arm. “I’ll ask you nicely once more. Get your fucking hand off her.”
Vince stands his ground, and I shake my head.
“Jack, please,” I beg, but it’s far too late. He gives Vince one last second to do the right thing, and then he rears his fist back and plows it right into Vince’s nose.
“Jesus Christ!” Vince screams, his hand finally moving from my arm and flying to cup his nose. “You broke my nose!”
“They always said I had great accuracy,” Jack says calmly, like he didn’t just punch some guy’s lights out.
“I’m calling the cops,” Vince yells. “You’ll pay for this, you asshole.”
“We need to get out of here,” I say to Jack.
Jack rolls his eyes like this whole thing is foolish games for children. “Running only makes it worse.”
He turns to go back inside, and I don’t know whether to help the kid spewing blood from his nose or chase after the man who caused it.
My snap decision is to chase after Jack. I find one of the other groomsmen and tell him to go out to the fountain in the garden without explaining what just happened. Jack’s already at the bar ordering more gin by the time I catch up to him.
“That was really fucking stupid!” I scream at him. Thankfully the “Macarena” is pumping loudly through the speakers so nobody can hear me except for Jack. People are dancing and having a great time and nobody is any the wiser that Jack just punched a groomsman.
“Just defending a woman,” he says, brushing off his shoulders in jest. “All in a day’s work.”
“Why are you acting like this is no big deal? He’s calling the cops, Jack. You’ll be arrested for battery, I’ll be fired—” My tone is much more hysterical than Jack’s. He remains the calm, cool, and collected cucumber.
He wraps one of his big hands around my bicep and directs me through the room and out into the lobby without getting his drink from the bartender. “Take a deep breath,” he murmurs, and somehow his tone is calming.
From there, we head out to the front of the banquet hall. We both hear the siren approaching.
“Let’s wait here so we don’t draw attention, okay? They’ll put me in the car,” he says. “They’ll take me down to the station.” He reaches into his pocket and taps four numbers into his phone: 5555. His number, four times. “Call my lawyer, Richard Redmond. Explain what happened.”
I take his phone with shaking fingers.
“They’ll book me and process me, and then Richard will post bail and I’ll be home before dawn.”
“But aren’t you on probation?” I ask. I know he’s been arrested before. That was why Calvin hired me to keep an eye on him.
He shakes his head. “They dropped the charges, and this fucker will, too,” he says. He blows out a breath, and I realize what he means.
Vince will drop the charges if Jack pays him off.
But he doesn’t have any money.
The sirens are getting louder.
“Tell Richard there was a camera back there,” he says.
“There was?” I ask.
He nods. I never saw one. I hope it was on. I hope it caught the fact that Jack warned this asshole several times before he took action to protect me.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his car keys. “Take care of Rodger, okay?”
My brows dip. “Rodger?”
“Rodger the Dodger,” he says, as if that clarifies everything.
He nicknamed his truck just like he nicknamed me. The things he cares about...maybe.
He’s not some dangerous man they’re hauling off to prison. He was just defending me after Vince egged him on. He doesn’t deserve this.
“Why’d you do it?” I ask, and now tears are freefalling down my cheeks as the police car turns into the parking lot. Lights flash in the reflection of his eyes.
He leans his forehead to mine as he uses a thumb to wipe away one of my tears. “He had his hand on you,” he whispers, and then he tilts his head down and brushes my lips with his.
My heart races at his kiss, but my chest tightens with guilt at his words.
He pulls back, and his eyes move to mine. In my periphery, I see two people moving toward us. Probably Vince, maybe whatever groomsman I ran into, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes from his.
“It’ll be okay, Kia,” he says softly. “I got this. I’ll be home in a few hours.”
He pulls back from me and heads toward Vince just as the police pull up. I move back, tears cascading down my cheeks as I stand helplessly by.
I can’t hear them from where I stand. I’m too far away, but the buzzing in my head is so damn loud I can’t hear anything else. I watch from a distance as Vince gestures wildly. Jack remains calm through the entire ordeal, and a sob bursts from my chest when he places his hands behind his back and willingly allows the police officer to handcuff him.
I’m the professional here, the one hired specifically to keep him out of headlines and out of handcuffs.
I’ve failed him. I’ve failed Calvin. This is all my fault, and I deserve to be fired.
And that’s what runs through my head as I watch the officer help Jack into the back of the squad car before they take off toward the county jail.
To be continued in Book 3, TIMEOUT.
Coming September 23, 2021
As Jack’s wedding draws nearer, the cloud over him seems to darken as he goes through the motions. Instead of enjoying the bachelor party and rehearsal dinner, he needs a timeout from the woman he’s set to marry.If he really walks down the aisle toward her, I can’t keep working with him. Not when I’m in love with him. My boss didn’t hire me to help this pro football quarterback make better decisions. He hired me to make sure Jack marries his daughter.And as the day of the wedding dawns, my one job responsibility is one of the most morally conflicting things I’ve ever had to do.
