The Girl With Diamonds (Midtown Brotherhood Book 2) (11 page)

Chapter Thirteen

MAGNOLIA’S EXCLUSIVE

Austin waited for her outside the conference room. He’d showered and changed. Of course he changed, because he lived to torture her. Gone were the sweatpants and comfortable hoodie. He was back in his suit, his knee brace covering the dark linen pants. His chestnut hair was loose. The stubble she’d noticed while watching the game last night was more of a five o-clock shadow now. She thought it would look odd on his boyish face, but it didn’t. It worked. It worked really well.

He noticed her and smiled. Torture. The boy was constant torture.

She slowly smiled back. “I see you’re ready.”

“Of course.” He absently ran a hand through his hair, causing the ends to fall flawlessly around his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be anything but professional with you, Miss Cross.”

Ahh. There it was.

“I never said you had a problem with looking professional.”

His grin was uneven. “I’m determined to prove to you that this can work. Plus, I figured since I had them fly you all the way here, I owed you one.”

Magnolia studied him. He definitely owed her. Not just for the ridiculous interview or the horrible restless night on a plane. He ruined her days with thoughts of his cheesy grin and her nights with fantasies of everything else. She absolutely had to stop thinking of him like that. He’d teach her how to avoid Ferocia. They’d put on a show of friendship, and then they would move on. This notion of a crush would go away. It was only a phase.

“You promise none of your Canadian gibberish this time?”

Austin smiled. That smile made her forget her future. “I’m not even Canadian.”

She rolled her eyes and started unloading stuff out of her bag. “Sure, you’re not.”

Austin stepped back, offended. “I’m not.”

“Whatever you say, eh?” She set her bag down and pulled out her notebook.

“First of all. That was a horrible Canadian accent, and I
do not
sound like that.” He shuffled forward on his crutches, his eyes narrowed. “Second. I’m American. I was born in St. Paul.”

“Minnesota. Canada. Same difference.” She grinned, remembering his nonchalant sentiment about North Carolina and Georgia he made that first night she met him.

“No, it’s not.” He was annoyed. He was adorable when he was annoyed.

Maybe this flirting off camera thing wasn’t so bad after all.

Her motto flashed in her mind but she ignored it. They weren’t technically on camera. Then again, now she didn’t know who could be watching and when.

Evan walked by and handed her a stack of papers, and then darted away. It was Austin’s update. She scanned the information, but she knew Austin still watched her.

She glanced up in time to watch his mouth pop open. “Hey.” He jerked something out of the stack of papers on the table. “Why do you have this?”

It was the issue of
The Whisperer
she’d stolen from Evan at the bar. Austin held it away from his body as if it might bite him. She cocked her head to the side. “You mean you haven’t seen it yet?”

Austin looked confused. He didn’t know about their two-page spread. She took a breath and tried again. “Evan had it at the bar last night.”

Austin balanced himself on his crutches so he could look through it with both hands. His face fell. “Shit.”

“You were right. Avoiding an interview only made her suspicion grow.”

“I can’t believe she had someone follow you. Magnolia, I’m—”

“Don’t. I won’t accept it.” She took a deep breath. “Obviously, my way didn’t work. I’m willing to try it your way. I don’t want in that magazine anymore, Austin. I want you to teach me how to avoid her.”

“I will.”

The room around them was loud, but the space between them quiet. The acknowledgment of the promise was too heady for words. Magnolia looked away first. “There is something else.”

“More?”

“Page five. There is a picture of Henrik.”

Austin made a face at the magazine. “There normally is. They snap pictures of him all the time leaving practice.”

“No.” Magnolia shook her head. He didn’t understand. “It has a picture of Henrik’s family. Your niece at the park. It doesn’t look like something a photographer just snapped.”

Austin’s face paled. He jerked the magazine open, flipping through it until he spotted it. Henrik with his wife and daughter, all facing the camera, smiling.

The magazine fell to the floor with a flutter.

Austin’s hand went to his pocket, but he gritted his teeth. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to call Henrik.”

“Of course.” Magnolia dug through her bag. “Where’s yours?”

He winced. “It was stolen.” He made another face; this time it looked pained. “I took that picture of Henrik and my sister at the park with my niece. It was on my phone.”

Realization hit her like a brick. “You think Ferocia stole your phone?”

Austin looked like he might puke. “Not exactly.”

Magnolia handed him her phone, and he stepped aside to call Henrik. The conversation was intense. Austin switched back and forth between looking like he might cry and angry enough to punch a hole through the wall. He turned his face away from her, his hands fisted in his hair. There was something on Austin’s old cell phone he didn’t want the rest of the world to see. When he returned, he was still visibly upset. He tried to bend down to pick up the magazine, but she rushed to help him. “Thanks.” He tucked it under his arm. “Do you care if I take it?”

“No, you can keep it.”

He nodded and Evan called for them. It was time for the interview. Magnolia found her seat beneath the lights and turned on her microphone in silence. Austin’s answers were quick and precise. He was friendly enough, but there were no secret smiles or quick jokes. He was a complete professional. No one would suspect what that magazine displayed so perfectly in those photos of them in the parking lot. Cressida was right. She had a crush on Austin.

Once the lights went out and the crew started packing up, Magnolia found herself lingering behind. Austin made his necessary rounds with the crew, but didn’t dare step a foot in her direction again. He only gave her a quick glance as he hobbled his way out of the room. When he was gone, Evan walked up beside her, an all-knowing smirk across his face. “What?”

“I think Blakley likes you.”

She tried very hard not to smile. “Why do you say that?”

Evan held out a small cocktail napkin. “Why else would a grown man pass notes?”

Magnolia grabbed it, turning it over to read the small, scribbled writing on the back:

Don’t do anything until you hear from me.

Magnolia looked up to Evan. He held up his hands. “I didn’t read it.”

She let out a small sigh. “I guess this means I’m going back to Midtown.”

***

Magnolia flew back to Manhattan directly after the interview. Evan continued with the team to Vancouver. She hadn’t seen or heard from Austin since that day in Calgary. Three whole days. Not that she expected him to call her. The guy didn’t have a cell phone, and she hadn’t offered him her number.

Magnolia sat at her desk, half watching the clock, half looking through
The Whisperer
website for the hundredth time. Nothing new. Maybe Stella was right. Maybe Ferocia was stocking up for something big. Something that didn’t involve her. Her finger nervously clicked down the page. A photo from Austin’s stolen phone ended up in the magazine. Ferocia showed up in person to a minor league hockey game. The shirtless interview. The two-page emotional extravaganza spread of their fight. Right now, the only common variable was Austin.

Why hadn’t the idiot reported his phone stolen?

Magnolia forced herself to click off the page. A dull throb formed behind her brow from thinking about it. She wanted to go down there and wait for the team to arrive home from the airport. Austin was in charge now. She would give him his chance to prove he knew what he was doing. He said not to do anything until she heard from him again.

Someone squealed down the hall. Magnolia jumped up in her seat as if coming out of a daze. She looked at the clock. An hour! Had she really been sitting there thinking about Austin for an entire hour? Someone squealed again, a high pitch shriek filled with excitement. It was Cressida. Magnolia stood up to go see what the fuss was about when her door burst open.

Cressida bounced inside as if jumping on a cheer trampoline. “Maggie!”

Magnolia ran a tired hand down her face. “I swear, Cressida. If this is about that Starbucks gift card I left in your mailbox—”

Cressida pretended to throw confetti in the air and dance around. “You, Magnolia Cross, are officially my hero.”

Magnolia continued to rub her head. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Austin. He’d be back in Manhattan by now. Probably arriving home, preparing to take a nap after the long trip, or maybe a shower.

Cressida shoved a giant red envelope in her face. “Look what just came for you.”

Magnolia leaned back so she could see the card Cressida held three inches from her face. She slowly took it from her hand. The red envelope was fancy, the paper thick and crisp. She flipped it over to see a gold seal on the front. It was two hockey sticks with a Santa hat strung over the corner. Her name was written beneath it in perfect calligraphy.

Cressida continued to hop up and down. “Do you have any idea what this means?”

Magnolia studied the envelope before looking up at her best friend. “No.”

Cressida squealed again. “This is an invitation to the most top secret event in Rangers history.” She grabbed the invitation and shook it in Magnolia’s face. “You’re invited to the Players’ Secret Santa Party.”

Magnolia removed the envelope from Cressida’s death grip and opened it. She pulled out a stark white card, to which Cressida gasped in awe. “I’ve never seen inside one of these before.” She leaned closer, examining it like a hidden treasure.

Magnolia flipped the card over, the same sophisticated calligraphy scrawling down the middle. It had her name again, and the title of the event, but there was no date or time. Not even a place. She turned the card over. Nothing.

“Confused?”

Magnolia glanced up to see Stella in her door, laughing.

“Yeah.” She read the card again. “How do I know when and where to go? And who invited me?”

Cressida snorted. “I think we all know who invited you.”

Stella stepped in the room and shut the door. “The party is always sometime between now and Christmas. No one ever knows when or where. You get an invitation, and then one night, a player shows up at your door.”

The hand holding the card fell to her desk. “You’re serious?”

“This party is legendary.” Stella smiled, coming closer to take a look at the invitation. Then she frowned. “I don’t think you should go.”

“What?” Cressida suddenly jumped between them. “Not go? Of course she is going.”

Stella leaned around Cressida, her stare in full mother hen mode. “This is a private party. No media is allowed. They don’t even release the day and time. It’s an invite to paparazzi to track you down. Ferocia will pay big bucks to the one who can find you.”

“It’s black tie.” Cressida whipped around, hiding Stella from view. She already had stars in her eyes at the thought. “So you need a dress.”

“She isn’t going,” Stella insisted.

Magnolia started shaking her head. “Wait. This is ridiculous. Stella is right. I’m absolutely not going to spend the next week sitting at home every night waiting for some guy to randomly show up at my door so I can put on a pretty dress and be whisked off to some top secret destination for a party.”

She looked down at the fancy envelope with its beautiful writing.

“Absolutely not,” she repeated, and she meant it.

If this was Austin’s big plan to avoid the media, then he could count her out.

***

Okay. She lied. She bought a dress. Then she washed her hair, just in case.

Stupid Austin Blakely and his secret romantic parties.

This stupid plan better work. Mrs. Stamcose hadn’t mentioned her spread in the magazine yet, but that didn’t mean another incident wouldn’t be the one that broke the camel’s back. She still needed that job interview.

Chapter Fourteen

AUSTIN’S HIDEOUT

The lights in Midtown were bright tonight. They would still be dull in comparison to the shimmer Magnolia would bring back to his life. The last days of the road trip were long. He slowly began to rehab his knee with the trainers, and they even let him take the ice to free skate with the team before practice. It didn’t take away reality, though.

Ferocia printed a picture from his stolen phone. She’d sent someone to stalk him and Magnolia at the practice facility. It was a message, and he received it loud and clear.

He could practically see Ferocia and her beak-like lips smirking amid the cloud of smoke surrounding her too-large desk. She’d rub her long, skeletal hands together, biding her time while she built up her so-called love story between him and Magnolia just so she could tear it back down.

Ferocia wouldn’t win this time. If
The Whisperer
wanted to ruin him, that was fine. He’d take it. He wasn’t going to let her bring Magnolia down with him. He’d teach her how to avoid the paparazzi and how to be in the spotlight, but remain boring and bleak.

A familiar and insistent laughter broke him out of his daze. Leila was turned around in the front seat looking back at him with increased amusement. He glared back at her.

“This is supposed to be a covert operation.” He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to mask the nervous tension that clouded his thoughts. “You’re ruining it with your excessive giggling.”

“Sorry.” Leila giggled again. “I’ve never seen my big brother nervous about going to pick up a girl.”

Austin stopped bouncing his knee. “I’m not nervous.”

“You’re nervous.” Henrik smirked at him through the rear view mirror from the driver’s seat. “Your socks don’t even match.”

Leila’s smile widened. “His ears are red too.”

Austin self-consciously touched his ears. Leila laughed.

“I’m teasing about your ears. Your socks really don’t match, though.”

He should have known better than to include them in his plan. For good measure, Austin scooted forward and smacked the back of Henrik’s head. “I can’t help it. This isn’t normally how you ask a girl out on a date.”

“You mean without giving her the option to say no until you show up at her door? I think it’s pretty perfect.”

Leila’s features softened. “She won’t say no.”

Austin had his doubts. He’d meant to find her after the game last night, but she’d been busy interviewing Henrik about his three point showoff. Then she disappeared. They weren’t supposed to mention the party. Ever. It was the number one rule. However, he felt obligated to give her a heads up, and he didn’t want to get his hopes up. He’d feel really stupid showing up alone now.

Henrik pulled into a parking garage, checking the number one last time to make sure they had the right place. Austin had to interrogate Evan again to find out her home address. Henrik found a parking place and killed the lights. Austin pulled on his coat.

Leila reached back and squeezed his hand. “Good luck.”

His stomach sank as he got out of the car. What if she wasn’t home? Magnolia was new to Manhattan. She didn’t know how the party worked. Or even worse. What if she did know and chose to leave on purpose because she didn’t want to go?

Clammy hands. Queasy stomach. He really should have tracked her down before now. He should have asked her in Calgary when he had the chance. He’d been preoccupied with that stupid picture in
The Whisperer,
though. How did Ferocia get that picture? Did the purple haired girl work for her? Or was the thief in the market for a quick buck?

Austin pushed it from his mind as he trudged down the long hallway. Magnolia’s door would be next. He didn’t let himself think about it this time. Everything in his head went haywire when he let himself think about Magnolia for too long. He just knocked.

Then he had a brief panic attack.

No one answered.

Everything inside of him sank to his toes.

Maybe Magnolia didn’t feel the same. He read the signs wrong. He’d been so certain she flirted with him before that last interview. She’d said she would try it his way.

“Austin?”

He whirled around. Magnolia stood at the end of the hallway, three bags of groceries in her arms, wearing big brown boots and a pink puffy jacket. Luxurious raven hair peeked out the corners of a toboggan that almost covered the surprise in her eyes.

“Hi.” It was all he could manage. The relief was too much.

She walked down the hallway and set one of the bags down at his feet. “What are you doing here?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, inadvertently biting his lip. “You didn’t get my invitation?”

Her brow furrowed. “Well—yeah. But it’s five o’clock in the afternoon.”

“So?”

She looked at him again. “And you’re wearing jeans.” She leaned around the bags that overflowed in her hands. “And a very unfortunate sweater. Are those reindeer doing a keg stand?”

Austin smiled, pulling out his sweater for a better look at the reindeer who were, in fact, doing a keg stand. “It’s an ugly Christmas sweater party.”

Magnolia’s head popped up. “Oh.”

“What?”

She grabbed her keys out of the pocket of her coat, and he immediately grabbed a bag of groceries. “It’s nothing. Cressida was under the impression that the event was a black tie kind of thing.”

He followed her inside. “That’s what we tell people. If gossipmongers like Ferocia are busy watching every high-end event in Midtown from now until Christmas, that gives us some space.”

Magnolia set her groceries on the counter, jerking the toboggan off her head. She had an odd look on her face. Then it hit him. “Did you buy a dress?”

Her gaze shot to him, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. She tried not to smile. “Possibly.”

The brass wires that had been so tight in his chest slowly began to unravel. “So you want to go?”

Magnolia pulled her jacket off, revealing the tiny sweater she wore over tight black leggings that clung to every curve. Not to mention the strip of sparkly rhinestones that tapered down the leg. “You did invite me.”

“I know.” Austin began to fidget. He needed something to do with his hands. And his eyes so he’d stop gawking. “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

Magnolia trotted over to a cabinet and started putting away groceries. She looked mischievously back at him. “Why wouldn’t a girl want to accept a date from a guy who has to send an invitation instead of having the balls to ask her himself?”

He gripped the edge of the counter in front of him. “The invitation is tradition.”

She stood back up, cocking her hip to the side. “What’s your point?”

Something low and guttural rumbled in his chest. He enjoyed when she provoked him. He leaned across the counter, his words low but urgent. “Magnolia Cross, would you like to accompany me to a very horrible Christmas party?”

Her brow lifted as if she might consider it.

“Ugly clothes. My drunk friends singing nineties karaoke. It’s really a chance of a lifetime.”

Magnolia grinned as she walked back to the counter. She mimicked his stance, leaning over the edge. Nose to nose, her lips only an inch away from him. “One condition.”

“And that is?” His eyes studied her lips. Shiny and perfect. And so damn close.

“Buy a new phone. Then give me your number. That way when you pussy out on calling me, I can call you.”

He pushed forward, but Magnolia’s lips were gone. She stood with her back against the cabinet, her arms crossed over her chest. Smug.

His eyes narrowed. So, Magnolia was ready to play. Good to know, because the night was still young. “I’ll buy a new phone.”

Magnolia smirked. “I’ll go to party.”

Austin stood up, brushing off his failure. “I brought you a sweater.”

She scoffed, her hands falling back to her hips. She did that a lot. He liked it. Mostly because he wanted to touch her hips. Pull her closer.

Magnolia snapped her fingers, bringing his gaze back to her eyes. “What makes you think I don’t have an ugly Christmas sweater?”

He ran an absent hand through his hair. “You do?”

She strutted around the counter into the small living room. “You underestimate me, Blakely.”

At this point—no, he really didn’t.

“Give me ten minutes,” she added, disappearing around the corner.

“Five.” He yelled, refusing to let her leave with his mouth gaping open. “After that, I’m coming to look for you.”

Magnolia’s laugh was evil. Sexy. Most importantly, mind numbing.

Alone, he glanced around the cramped living room. Magnolia’s apartment was small, but it felt much more like a home than the poor extension of a dorm room he lived in. It smelled good. It smelled like Christmas. Sugar cookies mixed with chocolate and lavender. A tiny three-foot-nothing tree sat in the corner with a string of blinking lights that matched the festive garland above the door.

The array of shelves overflowed with books and trinkets, and the walls were covered with giant frames of all colors and sizes filled with smiling faces. He wished his apartment looked like this, as if he actually lived there instead of used it as a temporary place to sleep between games.

“I’m ready.”

Austin glanced over his shoulder, then immediately turned his entire body around. “Wow.”

Magnolia held the hideous sweater out, smiling. Giant 3D elf ears sprouted out of her chest. The seams looked like it had been sewn together by a toddler. The entire thing was lopsided and too long. “I know, right? Who knew my sub-par teenage sewing skills would come in handy one day?”

“No. I meant, wow, as in you look beautiful.”

She’d taken her hair down. He liked it that way. Free and barreling down her shoulders. There was something missing, though. “Where are your glasses?”

“In the bathroom. I finally got a new shipment of contacts yesterday.”

He frowned.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, going over to grab a pair of black boots to slip over the leggings. “Did you like my glasses?”

“Maybe.” He crossed the room. “I like you this way too. I pretty much like you anyway you come.”

She laughed as she stood. “You haven’t seen me first thing in the morning.”

“That can be arranged.”

She playfully slugged his arm. “Pervert.”

“I meant because we’re going to be up all night at this party.”

Her look simply said
yeah right
.

“Okay. You’re right. My mind was totally in the gutter.”

She grinned. It was cheesy and powerful. She really was beautiful. “I like your place,” he said, trying to keep it casual. “When I get my new phone, you should call me and invite me over.”

She hummed. “Is that your grand strategy to avoid Ferocia? Hide out in my apartment?”

“No.” But it was part of his strategy to keep her in—

Shit. Was that what he was trying to do? Convince her to stay in New York? That hint of something crazy returned to his chest at the thought of Leila’s warning. If everything worked out for Magnolia, she’d have a shot at job in L.A. in the spring. His sister told him that weeks ago, and he thought he’d ignored it. It was there, though, in the back of his mind, and now, apparently, in the front of it, dictating his actions.

He couldn’t ask Magnolia to stay in Manhattan, especially for him. He could be traded tomorrow, and be in Tampa next week. He didn’t want her to leave, though. Not right now. Not in the spring.

“Austin?”

He looked up.

“Are you okay?”

“I like you.” He waited, replaying the words and how they sounded. “I like us.”

“Okay,” she said simply, still eyeing him.

“I didn’t lie to you before. We are friends with all of the reporters, especially the ones we see every day at MSG, but I don’t want to be only friends with you.”

She didn’t respond. Magnolia stood there, her eyes wide.

“I know you don’t see me as just a friend either.”

This time her brow rose.

“You’re not friend-zoning me,” he said, a little more authoritative this time. She would try it, he was sure of it. She was too serious about her job not to try to keep things platonic between them. “If you try, I will start removing clothes until I make your cheeks that perfect shade of pink I like.”

Magnolia bit her lip. “You’re not exactly making friendship sound horrible.”

“I’m just warning you. I will teach you how to avoid Ferocia, but you should also know this is a date. I meant it to be a date when I sent the invitation.”

She took a short breath and sighed. “What do you suggest I do, then?”