Page 27 of He Has Charm (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Eight
Maddox
“Your bathroom will be fixed by the end of the day, sir.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” I don’t want to be a bastard, but I also don’t want to go around stinking and grimy the rest of the day. The manager exchanges glances with the plumber.
“Luckily the bathroom in the second bedroom works perfectly and perhaps you can use that.” He smiles and I notice Harper’s eyes flare like bright green fireflies and her mouth opens. But as soon as I catch her gaze with my smirk, she shuts her mouth and goes all official on me. She has quite a talent for being a quick emotional change artist. Except I know the change in her expression doesn’t run very deep. Whatever banked passions she’s hiding are simmering so close to the surface my hand itches to touch her, to caress her flesh until those passions bubble over into my hands.
“Isn’t there another room we can move to?” she says in a commanding voice, channeling a nun I used to know back in second grade, I swear.
“No other suites. But there is one single room if you—”
“No. That’s okay. We’ll stay here. It’s only one more night. No big deal.” She drops the commanding nun act right away and goes with scared little nun afraid of beds and men. She has range, I’ll give her that, and I wonder if it’s me who has her so confused and unable to be her true self.Of course it’s you, shithead. You’re a pariah porn star. Every good girl’s worst nightmare.
After removing some faulty hardware in my shower, the plumber leaves with the manager. Harper does her duty giving him the expected tip on the way out the door. When the door closes behind them, she stares me down with the return of that fiery passion I’m becoming addicted to, like my personal pretty fireworks display setting off all kinds of pleasure centers in my brain every time I watch her eyes snap and her nostrils flare under the tight rein of her control.
I’m about to ask permission to use her shower when there’s another knock on the door. It’s room service and I’m ravenous as always when I wake up. For one thing or another. I flick my eyes at her auburn hair and wonder if it’s that color all over, then I breathe in the unmistakable scent of rosemary chicken and eye the covered platter.
“You ordered me food. How’d you guess I’d be hungry again?” I raise an eyebrow to suggest my hunger for more than food. She rolls her eyes as the server sets up a table for two in the spacious room. I take a seat. I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s anticipated my needs. Since I’ve met her, she’s been on top of everything—everything but me.Stop the fucking depravity, Madman. You’re no longer that person. You’re the gentler, saner, more boring Maddox.
After she tips the server, she watches me.
“You’re not eating?” I say.
“Of course not. I don’t need a gazillion calories a day to make phone calls and tap keys on my computer.” She paces a small circle. I put a forkful of the deliciously seasoned chicken into my mouth.
“Speaking of which, I have some good news for you,” she says. But her smile says she’s not convinced. I wait for her to deliver and she takes a deep breath, never a good sign, then licks her lips, distracting me. Until she sits at the table and talks.
“I spoke with Mamma Regina’s and got them to agree to extend your promotional contract.”
“Great job, St. John.” The good news barely jolts my happy meter, but itisgood news. I raise my hand and give her a high five across the table. I’m proud that I’ve managed to resist reaching over and giving her a big fat kiss not sparing the tongue. Nowthatwould definitely fuck with my happy meter. She slaps my hand and her smile brightens for a second before it flickers and goes out like a dead candle. “But why do I have a feeling you’re not telling me the whole story.”
“There’s a catch. A condition. The extension is temporary.” She fidgets with her hands and I stare at her with a forkful of chicken suspended halfway to my mouth. Not even the enticing smell of needed delicious food makes me shove it into my mouth until I’ve heard about the condition. My gut clenches with the unknown possibilities.
“We have to shoot a new commercial. And we have to pay for the shoot.” She stops and looks down and I’m confused because it doesn’t sound so bad, but I know there’s a catch to the catch. And then I realize she saidwe.
“What do you mean bywe?” She visibly gulps.
“We, you and Jett Agency, will have to pay for the shoot and they won’t air it until the end of the season, contingent on… your behavior.” She stops again, not looking at me. “It’s at Children’s Hospital. With the kids.” Boom. That’s the catch I didn’t want to hear and she sneaks it in as an afterthought. I put down my fork.
“You’re exploiting sick children to bail out my reputation—”
“It’s not like that. It’s about you in your natural habitat. Look, I know you visit children’s hospitals wherever you go. I know you donate and send personal gifts to children.” She stops talking and my mouth hangs open because this is a well-guarded secret. For the exact reason that I don’t want to exploit these already too vulnerable kids, to use them for my personal promotion. All I want to do is give them a smile and a few bucks to ease their burdens.
She meets my stare and I soften the glare because she is doing the best she can with the clusterfuck I handed her. She lifts her chin and her face clears of chagrin.
“It will raise awareness for the cause, Maddox. Nothing bad will happen to the kids if they appear in a commercial with you. No lightning will strike them dead—I mean—shit. Sorry. You know what I mean.” She waves a hand, flustered and pink and all poise gone. But the fire remains. She has a spark of passion that never dies. No matter how much she tries to hide it.
She also has a point, but it doesn’t sit well.
“Can we cancel it?” I ask, knowing the answer and weighing the surrender of my integrity against the financial needs of my family. I’ve become my mom’s sole support and I can’t fuck up my contract with the Brawlers or any potential sponsor because my career could end at any minute. I need to make as much money as possible while I can to take care of mom and all of us for the rest of our lives.BecauseI could drop dead from heart failure like my dad.
“Not a chance. I need this deal as much as you do and I worked hard—”
I put my hands up in surrender. She’s one more person relying on me for money. That’s a sobering thought I ought to remember next time I get any ideas about kissing her or…never mind. Focus.
“Look, I know you’re trying to help, but I don’t like the idea. I don’t want the kids to think I’m there for the promotion. I want to be there for them, you know?”
