Know When to Hold Him (22 page)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Hightower & Associates was as busy as ever. Clients had called about a pesky drunk driving arrest of a Supreme Court justice and an unfortunate restaurant review in the
Dallas Morning News
. On its face, a bad restaurant review wasn’t something that H&A normally handled. But this involved a prominent Dallas family, a chain of successful hamburger joints, a disgruntled undocumented head chef, and some accusations that the restaurants knowingly used horse meat. It promised to be a doozy.

But first, Spencer had an important meeting with Bibby Hepworth and Dalynn Kay. Dalynn had given her permission to her doctor for Spencer and Liam to receive the results first, in order to rapidly mobilize the respective press machines, if needed.

That wasn’t going to be necessary now.

The paternity test was conclusive. Troy Duncan was not the father of Dalynn’s baby.

Spencer dreaded this meeting. She, Rainey, and Nora had gone over a couple of different strategies for breaking the news. Rainey had suggested that an aromatherapy candle be used, especially one that might start labor. Then Spencer could just rush Dalynn to the hospital and the conversation could be avoided. Nora had suggested avoiding the word “slut.” Spencer thought that was obvious, but maybe not. They had discussed whether to offer their future services.

All voted against it.

Bibby and Dalynn were in the conference room when Spencer came in. Dalynn was composed and hugely pregnant. From out of nowhere, Spencer wondered if Dalynn knew the truth all along. But what could she want if that was the case? Surely she didn’t think that she’d get paid off without a paternity test?

Spencer dismissed the stream of consciousness as nonsense. Who would do that? She greeted Bibby and Dalynn and acknowledged that the paternity results had come in. “They are negative.”

Dalynn froze. Bibby bobbed her head. “Well then.” Bibby’s voice was clipped. “There’s a daddy out there somewhere.” Spencer flinched inside. That comment was about two degrees away from the “slut” word.

“What did Troy say?” Dalynn asked, her voice rising. “Did he say
anything?”

Spencer stared at her. She hadn’t prepared for this question. “Not that I’m aware,” Spencer managed. “Since this wasn’t public…”

Dalynn cut Spencer off. “What the fuck? He can’t do this. He can’t just throw me away.”

Spencer understood it, then. She knew Dalynn had been angry at Troy, but Spencer had chalked it up to the emotions of a pregnant woman, scared to be a mother, and a single one at that. It wasn’t that. Maybe Dalynn had known Troy wasn’t the father, maybe she hadn’t. She wasn’t angry about the paternity. She was angry about being left behind. About being abandoned. While the love of her life moved on, to bright lights and Monday night games, Dalynn Kay remained in Dallas, alone.

“Dalynn.” Spencer used her name, to get her to focus, to calm down. “Bibby’s right. You still need to establish paternity with the baby’s father. You’ll get support then, with Bibby’s help.” Spencer gave the floor to Bibby who chimed in with some comforting family court statistics, but she could tell Dalynn’s anger was not subsiding. It was unfortunate, but Spencer had nothing left to do for her.

“You can stay at the hotel for a few more days, if you like. I really hope you keep in touch. We can’t wait to hear all about the baby. I’ll come visit you in the hospital…”

“What, I’m trash now that Troy Duncan isn’t the father of my baby?”

Spencer took a deep breath and kept her voice even. “No, that’s not true. But you have no more need of our services.”

“Whatever,” Dalynn snapped and stood up as quickly as her girth would allow. She was about to storm out, but then she stopped and stared at Spencer. “He can’t get away with treating me like this.”

Spencer empathized with the woman who had been left behind. “No, he shouldn’t,” was all she could say.

That answer wasn’t enough for Dalynn, who left in a huff. Bibby soon followed, muttering about hormonal clients. Spencer wondered how long Bibby would be representing Dalynn. The fact was Bibby Hepworth was one of the most expensive family law attorneys in the city. If the next paternity candidate wasn’t someone with a significant income, Dalynn probably couldn’t afford Bibby, and losing her fancy lawyer wasn’t going to help Dalynn’s pride.

Spencer updated Rainey and Nora and then returned to her office to focus on the next scandal: Horse meat in Dallas hamburgers. Spencer made a face. It wasn’t sexy, but it would capture the public’s attention for the next few years. The strategy would be tough. Texans loved their horses. They also loved a big, thick burger. It would be difficult to convince people that horse meat is delicious, even if they had thought so when they unknowingly ate it. Maybe it was environmentally friendly? Organic? Spencer made a face. She always won. She’d find a way to make people love horse meat, or bury it under a bunch of horseshit.

The afternoon was filled with phone calls and research and a few drafts of press releases. The ladies briefly discussed take out for dinner then Nora screeched down the hall. Spencer raced into the conference room and spotted, in a precious pale pink dress a prettily pregnant Dalynn. The headline on the TV read: “Renegade Baby Daddy.”

Spencer cursed creatively and loudly.

…

Liam didn’t pick up when she called. A hard knot formed in her throat. This was bad. BAD. BAD BAD BAD. Bad with a capital B, underlined and highlighted.

Spencer punched his number again. She wasn’t letting him avoid her. Voicemail.
Dammit
. “It’s me. I didn’t do it. We need to talk.”

Three minutes later, she was on his voicemail again. “Liam, seriously, call me back. I fired Dalynn today, I promise you. She’s gone rogue.”

She counted to one hundred and called back. This time, he picked up, his voice tense and short. “What?”

“I called you as soon as I heard.”

“What the fuck? The test was negative, Spencer. You think I didn’t get those results?”

“I know you got them. I got them, too. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I didn’t plan this. Dalynn is pissed, and she pulled this all on her own.”

There was a long pause. “I’m supposed to believe that.”

Panic rose in Spencer. There was a lot at stake, here.
Too much.
“Yes, because I’m telling you the truth. Rainey and Nora can tell you. As of this afternoon, Dalynn Kay is no longer a client of Hightower & Associates. I did not arrange for her press release or the press conference.”

“How did you know?” Liam’s voice was clipped.

“I just saw it on TV…”

“No. How did you know that she had a press release?”

Spencer pressed a hand to her forehead. “I just…guessed. We had one prepared from before…” Her stomach was a lead balloon.
Don’t tell me…

“A press release was faxed to Renegades headquarters. On Hightower & Associates’ letterhead.”

“Liam, I swear to you, I didn’t…” Spencer grasped for anything that would prove her defense. “Look at the date- we always put the date on press releases, to show…” She trailed off. Telling Liam about their previous PR plans against Troy wasn’t helping. “I will bury this. I will make it go away,” she swore.

“Bury the body, Spencer? Make it so Troy has everything to lose so he’ll sign a check faster?”

Shock fizzled all her brain cells. “What? You think I would do that? You know me!”

“I do. And I know you’ll do anything to win. Like manipulating team owners to sign Troy. Pushing him into a corner right where you wanted him. Did you think that if you got your buddy Mahoney on board that you’d be controlling things? That Mahoney would be wrapped around your pretty little finger, do whatever you asked with Troy’s contract no matter what happened with the test?” There was a strangled laugh. “That’s totally your style, right? Like when you played poker with Zach? It looks like someone else is playing when you’re the one calling the shots. We’re all just pawns on the board to you, right? You played us all, put us right where you wanted, so you could win.”

And then a chill came over her. The chill she felt right before she went head to head with someone, right before she went to battle. But this was wrong. She shouldn’t be battling this man. Not now. Not after she’d fallen for him.

“We had a confidentiality agreement, Spencer. We shook on it. You promised to keep this hush-hush. And you reneged.”

“No…” Spencer shook her head even though he couldn’t see her.

“I have no choice. I have to represent my client, now. I’m pulling the plug. You’ll be hearing from the station in about two minutes.”

No.
This was her career. Her career depended on her word, on her relationships with media outlets, on her 100% success rate.

Journalism was a small enterprise. They’d all know that Spencer Hightower was the one who let this one get away. That she was the reason that OPM athletes were banned from speaking to anyone who talked to Dalynn Kay, Hightower & Associates client. And next time Spencer had a client who needed a favor, who would trust her then?

She grasped at straws. “You’re right about me manipulating the team owners. I wanted the best possible contract for Troy. The more money he got, the more money my client got,
if
he was the baby’s father. But you’re wrong about the rest. I won when Troy agreed to the paternity test,” Spencer informed him, ice hanging from each word. “I was done then, and I’m done now.”

Now it was Liam’s turn to pause. She hoped she had scared him. “What does that mean?”

With a slow, deliberate
click
, Spencer hung up on Liam Connelly.

Chapter Thirty-Five

A quick survey of the office and two calls to the television stations confirmed Spencer’s fears. Dalynn had kept a copy of a draft press release and submitted it to the stations. Thankfully, H&A dated every single release, and when it was pointed out to the stations that this release had been dated a week earlier, they agreed to return copies to H&A and not refer to it again.

But the damage had been done. Spencer had a copy of the release, but she wasn’t sure it would be enough. Not for Liam.

The fact that he hadn’t believed in her hurt. She asked herself what she would have done in his position. Would she have been the better person? Or would she have jumped to the same conclusion, especially after seeing the letterhead? Maybe.

There was a knock at her office door. Rainey stood in the doorway, a phone in one hand, a notebook in another, and her hair done in some complicated purple and brown updo. Spencer motioned her in, and Rainey settled into a chair.

“How bad is it?” Spencer asked.

Rainey looked grim. “Pretty bad. Especially since we’re not involved.”

“Do we need to be?” Spencer racked her brain for anything to make this right.

“No.” Rainey was firm. “She’s not our client. She did this on her own, and she knows it. We don’t jump in now.”

Spencer tapped the old press release on her desk. “What’s our obligation to Troy?” This question was quieter. “We wrote this…”

“No.” Rainey’s tone was stern, and it caught Spencer’s attention. “We’re not going there. We didn’t do this, it’s clear to everyone that this was a draft release that was sent out without our buy-in.”

“He’s never going to trust me again. I gave my word and it means nothing.” Spencer’s voice was shaky.

Rainey didn’t say anything. Spencer shook her head.

“He’s furious. Troy’s career…”

Rainey cut Spencer off. “Will be fine. No one’s crying for the man who just got a ten figure signing bonus.”

“I don’t think it was
that
much…”

“Does it matter? Troy is a big boy. Welcome to the big leagues. Shit happens, put your helmet and cleats on, and man up.”

Spencer gave Rainey a pointed stare. “I thought you didn’t like football.”

“I hate it. But I’m not going to sit here and let you feel sorry for yourself.”

“I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”

Rainey lifted her eyes to the ceiling, unconvinced.

“Just…humor me. Talk me through this. Is there anything we can do to shut this down?” Spencer waved Nora into the office. Nora shrugged.

“The usual. Call in favors, promise stuff. But Troy’s not our client,” Nora maintained.

“And neither is Dalynn. We don’t have leverage. And we shouldn’t care.” Rainey underlined her words with a pointed finger.

“Do we want to waste our favors on
this
?” Nora asked the room. “The horse meat thing is going to be sticky. It’s going to take a lot to drag our clients out of that.”

“Our real, paying clients,” Rainey added.

Spencer nodded. She knew they were right. Professionally, it didn’t make sense to become any more involved with Troy and Dalynn, even if personally, every impulse she had told her to jump in and
fix it
. She hated loose ends, and Dalynn going rogue was the loosest of loose ends, but this was one she was going to have to let go.

Especially with Liam on the other end of the rope.

…

The full force of the Renegades public relations department was all over the Dalynn Kay story. In hours, sports columnists had the full details of the negative paternity test. Pastor Langford had spoken on Troy’s behalf on no fewer than five media outlets. The story’s damage was quickly limited, not only by the Renegades’ PR staff but by the goodwill Troy had banked during the last week of high profile community service events.

Liam was pissed, no doubt about it. The story should never have come out.

How could she have done this?

After everything?

Sure, she’d vehemently denied any involvement, but Liam wasn’t sure if he’d ever believe it hadn’t been Spencer. Evidence spoke otherwise. This was exactly the kind of thing she’d held up her sleeve all along. George had said as much in New York.

When he’d seen the Hightower & Associates’ letterhead, it was like he’d been slapped. Like an idiot. Like he’d been drunk, passed out, and someone had taken advantage and drawn a beard on him with a black permanent marker. Taken for a fool, by a lying liar of a woman.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Since he first met the woman, she’d never been one hundred percent honest, always skipping out, avoiding direct questions, and leaving out huge portions of the truth. Like the fact that she played him in New York, manipulating her contacts to make sure Troy went first, making him think she was screwing him over.

While screwing him.

Fuck
.

Liam felt like the air had been punched out of him.

Spencer was just like every other woman when faced with an athlete and a couple million on the table. She was going to lie, cheat, and steal to get hers. And when that didn’t work, she’d just sell herself.

The memories of the last few weeks assaulted him, tearing up his insides with a machete. He should have known it was all too good to be true.

She was too good to be true.

Pissed at the pain she was causing him even now, Liam reminded himself that he was lucky. Troy had an amazing organization behind him. The test had come back negative.

If he’d listened to George Clayton, Troy would have been really screwed. Or not, if they’d given Dalynn enough money.

Still, truth was the ultimate defense. And Liam would rather have that beautiful medical piece of paper than anything.

Almost anything.

Liam’s phone had been ringing off the hook, and, when it rang again, he checked the caller ID.
Jared.

“Hey, man.”

“Look, I was thinking. I got all this research up here about Troy’s crazy ex-girlfriend. Do I need to do anything with that?”

Liam rubbed his eyes. Public relations and press management was sometimes a necessary part of the job, but he was so glad the Renegades’ front office was handling this one. “Sure. Just send it all down here.” Liam gave Jared the name of the woman handling the press.

“All of it?” Jared asked. “’Cause Clayton had sent me some stuff too…”

“Yeah, all of it.” Whatever. Let someone else worry about Dalynn’s grades and her dating history. She had declared war on Troy. What happened next was on her. And on Spencer.

…

Spencer sat on her couch with a glass of wine and a bowl of popcorn and watched the end of the nightly news. Troy Duncan had not been mentioned. She wondered if she should check ESPN. She could check online and see if the story was still hot in San Antonio, the home of the Renegades.

Spencer took a sip of wine and reminded herself of her new mantra.
Not my problem
. Rainey and Nora had been right. She had to focus on re-building, networking, and re-establishing her credibility. This was not their mess to clean up. Not their circus, not their monkeys. This was Troy’s, it was Franklin Mahoney’s, it was Dalynn’s problem.

It was Liam’s.

Damn him
. Spencer hadn’t called Liam. He hadn’t called her. She wasn’t sure what would happen next. Who would take the next step? Was it over, just like that? Spencer crunched her nose at the little pain that grew behind her forehead at that possibility. Surely, it wasn’t over. Not over something this stupid.

But radio silence from Liam Connelly? Hadn’t happened before. They’d been hard-core opponents, and he’d still wanted to date her. Maybe she should face facts. Maybe it was over.

The Blackberry next to her on the couch rang. The caller ID said it was Roberta, her friend at the news station. A queasiness boiled in Spencer’s gut. She hadn’t called Roberta with any kind of story. And it was late at night. Roberta had just finished the late news broadcast and wasn’t calling about an impromptu tennis date. Whatever Roberta was calling about, Spencer wasn’t behind it.

After Spencer answered, Roberta jumped right in. “I hate to do this, girl, but I got some information and I thought I’d better check it out first with you. They wanted it on tonight, but I said, ‘Spencer is my girl and I’m not going there until we get confirmation’.”

Roberta’s information was all about Dalynn. Dirty laundry, character assassination, all probably true, all avoidable.

Spencer dropped her head as Roberta spewed the facts as they’d “uncovered” them. They hadn’t been uncovered by dogged investigative journalists. The smear campaign had been dropped in their laps, tied in a bow, with a card that read, “From OPM. Or from the Renegades.” Spencer should know—she’d played that move often enough.

A wave of helplessness engulfed Spencer. It didn’t have to be this way. She could have saved Dalynn, handled things so that no one was hurt. But Dalynn had been hurt anyway, and she’d lashed out, as hurt people did. Spencer could only pray that Dalynn found her peace—that, one day, she could accept all the shit that was raining down on her. Lord knew, Spencer had tried long enough for that goal.

Roberta paused, and Spencer waited as the news anchor dangled the other shoe, threatening to drop it.

“What?” Spencer asked, wary of surprises. Was it Dalynn again? Troy? Another client? There was a slightly-too-long pause. “Roberta?”

“This part’s about you.”

“What do you mean, it’s about me?”

“The rest of the story. It’s about you.” A roar crashed in her ears as Roberta said, “Dimitri Korolov” and the words, “assault” and “security” and “prostitute.”

“T-That’s crazy,” Spencer managed.

“Okay, that’s what I thought,” Roberta said. “But I’m not doing my job if I don’t call. Especially when it involves a Senator’s daughter and a playboy millionaire. But I should also know shit when I smell it.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Spencer heard herself saying. “But just so I can deal with any disgruntled clients, who was it? Who called you?”

Roberta hesitated. Probably over some journalistic ethical thing, Spencer thought. “Well, since we’re friends…it was from someone at OPM-the sports agency? Sounds like maybe there’s some bad blood with that Duncan story. I mean, you and I know that you didn’t send out that press release, but they must be mighty pissed at you.” The roaring started up again. Then the bile rose. In the distance, Roberta rattled off a name, and then Spencer automatically said good-bye.

The Blackberry fell to the floor. Then Spencer joined it, falling to her knees in disbelief.

It had been a long time since Spencer had experienced such a spectacular defeat. The pain was sharper than she had expected, more solid.

So this is heartbreak
. Country singers weren’t lying. It was fucking serious. For a few minutes, she lost herself, just swallowed up by the earth. She had wondered whether it was over with Liam, and this was her definitive answer. He was done. They were done. He’d sold her out.

She should have known. Her entire life, raised in politics, she had seen the essential nature of people, of herself. For a brief, shining moment, Liam Connelly was the exception. The man who could be big enough to love her no matter what, no matter the stakes.

But no one could be that big.

A good cry was therapeutic, Spencer concluded an hour later. After the tears stopped, the long, hot shower helped her recover her strength as she remembered that crying was not the only thing she could do. She was an adult, not a child. She took care of things her way now. And when she picked up the phone and pressed Liam Connelly’s number, she pushed down the pain and was gratified when anger rose up in its place. Because she needed anger. She needed a lot of it.

He answered just after the first ring. “Spencer.” His voice was cool, when it used to be warm. It made her want to scream.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare. Not after what you did.”

“What? What happened?”

“You had no right.”

“No right to what?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t get a call, Liam? I know
everyone
in this town. Of course they’re going to call me first when they hear a ridiculous story about Spencer Hightower being assaulted by Dimitri Korolov.”

She heard the quick inhale of breath. He had been caught. He’d better be scared.

“I know it came from OPM, and you are the only other person who knows anything. This didn’t come from Dimitri; he’s not that stupid…”

“Spencer,” Liam repeated her name, as he did the night they’d met, as if it was some sort of mantra meant to console and soothe. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“It’s fine, okay? I get it. You’re getting back at me for this whole damn thing. This is why I didn’t want to fall in love with you. Because…because….” Spencer’s strength faltered. “Because someone always gets hurt, and I will not be hurt. I will not be beaten. I will not fall over someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” Liam echoed her words, and Spencer flinched when they shot back at her. It hadn’t come out like she’d meant it, but it was there.

“I should’ve never let my guard down. I should have realized that I can’t trust anyone. You thought I was bad. You thought I was too competitive? You thought I couldn’t separate the personal from the professional? I would’ve never, never, lashed out at you personally. I do have standards. You make me sick. I never want to see you again.”

And with a
click
, the connection was broken. Along with her heart.