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

Austin looked callously over his shoulder. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying you’re technologically inept. Your phone was kin to the dinosaurs. That phone had fewer features than Al Yankovich.”

“Well, it’s gone, asshole.”

Henrik grabbed the jeans and searched them himself, then he looked around the room again. “Okay, let’s say Wiggy took your phone. What’s on it? A couple stupid selfies. Some phone numbers. She practically did you a favor.”

It was a lie. They both knew what this could mean. Personal pictures from celebrities’ phones made headlines all the time. At least Henrik was right about one thing. There wasn’t anything incriminating on his phone. It’s not like it had the options for social media.

Austin ran his hands through his hair. Sweat dripped down his brow while the throb behind his eyes turned into a heavy dumbbell. Why the purple wig? Why get him drunk and tie him up to steal a dumb flip phone?

It didn’t make sense.

“Bathroom. Now.” Henrik jumped to his side, his hand clamping around his shoulder.

“What?” Austin didn’t look up. He couldn’t. Just the thought of what his stupid mistake might lead to made him sick. He suffered right along with Henrik when
The Whisperer
shared those photos of his friend passed out on top of a bar the night before the conference finals. They’d won the game, so all was forgiven. The trade rumors and media coverage were a bitch, though. He didn’t want to drag his family through that again. How would he explain that picture to his grandmother?

“I know that face.” Henrik’s grip tightened. “That face is a dry cleaning bill in the making. Let’s go to the bathroom.”

Austin let Henrik lead him to the toilet. The fear, guilt, and anger did the rest. When Austin opened his eyes again, his face was planted on the cold tile floor of his bathroom. Henrik sat crossed-legged against the door, scrolling through his phone.

“You know, it’s been two years since I’ve had any reason to look at this damn website.” Henrik didn’t glance up when he said it. “Looks like you’re lucky this time. At least for now.”

Austin pushed himself up into a sitting position, his hand going directly to his head. “Ugh. When did I become you?”

Henrik snorted. “I don’t recall you ever finding me in this particular situation.”

Austin leaned his head back in hope of stopping the thud of drums inside it. “You know what I mean.”

Henrik got up and helped Austin stagger to his feet. “We all have to grow up sooner or later, Blakie. Our wakeup calls are just scheduled on different days.”

Austin grabbed the sink for support. “My wakeup call sounds more like a fucking fog horn right now.”

Henrik patted him on the back, directing him toward the bedroom. “You’ll survive. Good thing we have the day off. Go rest, and we’ll do our workout this afternoon.”

Austin shook his head. “No.”

“You assaulted your toilet. You’re in no shape to run right now. Trust me, we don’t want that disaster zone spreading to the practice facility.”

Austin sat down on the edge of his bed, trying to rein in the panic and unease that hid behind the massive headache. “I need to go to the bar. I have to find that girl.”

“Look—I know this is hard on your ego.”

“It isn’t about my damn ego. She could have that same picture you took. I don’t want to go back to us spending our mornings double checking the tabloids before we leave the house.”

Henrik winced. The memories of his wild child days were still too close to home.

“And what if we find her? What if someone knows her name? What then, Austin?”

“I don’t know.” He threw his hands out. “I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

Henrik walked over and sat down on the bed beside him, his elbows on his knees. He stared at the wall, his teeth running over his bottom lip. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Henrik sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. “How can I tell you no? You carried me home from the bar so many times I can’t count. If it’ll make you feel better to ask around, then we will.”

Austin nodded. “Thanks.”

Henrik stood and walked toward the door. “At least sleep off your hangover first. I’m not carrying your wobbly ass to the bar.”

Austin held up his hand. “Hey—wait a second.”

Henrik stopped and leaned against the doorframe.

Austin shot him his best pleading look. “Let’s not tell my sister about this. I don’t want her to worry.”

“Sure.” Henrik nodded and took a step out the door, but then he stopped. “Before you pass out again, you might want to consider a shower. You’re making your entire apartment smell like tequila and stupid.”

Austin pulled himself to his feet. “It must smell familiar.”

Henrik smiled. The tension started to slowly fade, but the heartache and memories of what could happen would never go away. Not now. This kind of mistake could change his whole world.

Chapter Two

MAGNOLIA’S BAD DAY

Coffee stain on the boob of her dress shirt. A six inch run on the knee of her favorite tights. If that wasn’t enough, Magnolia dropped her last contact into the black hole of her bathroom floor. The roar of maddening annoyance that erupted out of her would have brought a grizzly bear to its knees.

She really shouldn’t have laughed at Troy for dropping that plate of doughnuts during the intern luncheon, because karma was kicking her ass today.

Alternating between cursing and screaming like a pissed off banshee, Magnolia removed her other contact and grabbed her glasses from the shelf. Of all the days for her luck to go south, it had to be the first day of her interview rotation. The one day she needed to look presentable, and at least appear as if she had her shit together, she would show up a total hot mess.

She stuck a blueberry bagel in her mouth, then ripped off the ruined tights. She replaced them with a pair of polka dotted pantyhose. Not exactly professional. The design had a sex appeal that wasn’t appropriate for an on-air interview. She paired them with a plain black pencil skirt, and exchanged her coffee soaked shirt for a simple midnight sweater in hope of toning it down.

Magnolia took a quick glance in the mirror. If she was going to a funeral at a night club, she totally nailed it.

She snatched the antique diamond necklace her grandmother had given her from the tiny, pink velvet jewelry box on her night stand as the timer on her cell buzzed. It was her safety net to make sure she left on schedule. The subway to Madison Square Garden would be packed tonight. Any night the Rangers played sent the city into chaos. It was imperative she leave on time. She put her necklace on, stuffed her bagel back in her mouth, grabbed her backpack, and hit the door running.

Her bare feet hit the cold concrete outside her door. Shoes. She actually forgot her shoes. That was a first. Her heels lay in wait inside her backpack, but she needed something more sensible for the commute. She locked her door while she slipped on her sneakers.

Her phone started beeping before she made it half a block. Early bird Stella to the rescue.

“I’m not late.” Magnolia held her phone with her shoulder, searching her pockets for her subway card. “Not yet.”

“I didn’t say you were. I’m just calling to let you know I’m waiting at the exchange next—”

“Next to the escalator. We meet there every day, Stells.”

Magnolia imagined Stella waiting there, bouncing on the heels of her perfectly practical Dr. Scholl’s in her argyle sweater. “Sorry,” Stella said, taking a moment, “I’m just nervous.”

Magnolia sighed into the phone. “Why? You’re working in the booth tonight.”

A quiet buzz echoed behind Stella’s delicate sigh. “I’m not nervous for me.”

Magnolia slid her card across the sensor at the gate and made a beeline for the train. “Wait. Are you worried about me?”

“It’s your on-air debut. This is big time.”

Magnolia snorted, slipping between two men and onto the train. She found a vacant seat next to the door and sat down. She had two stops until the exchange where Stella waited. “It’s an internship at a local network. It’s not primetime.”

Magnolia couldn’t ignore the flux of butterflies in her stomach. She’d been waiting weeks for her turn to do an on-air post-game interview. There were five paid interns at the Madison Square Garden network. She would rotate between interviews, stats, and post-game write-ups with Marc and Troy. Stella rotated between running the blog and working the booth with Cressida. Post-game write-ups were great, and Magnolia loved finally putting her communications degree to work, but she wanted to be on-air. She wanted that red light pointed at her.

“Is Cressida there yet?” Magnolia wanted to change the subject. She had enough nerves brewing in her stomach without Stella stirring them up with her giant worry-wart spoon.

“No. She said she’d meet us at the game.”

That sounded like Cressida. The daughter of a Wall Street executive, Cressida didn’t exactly take her responsibilities seriously. Cressida was always late, and not just walking the edge of on-time like Magnolia did most days. The lights flickered inside the train, and Magnolia knew the routine well enough to know she’d lose signal soon. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said quickly. “Don’t worry about me.”

She didn’t have to hang up because the call failed, and the brakes on the train squealed. Another day in Manhattan. Magnolia pulled out her trusted field notebook, marking the accomplishment with the tip of her pen across the top like a survivor stranded on a deserted island. It felt the same. Home felt a world away and out of reach. The winter chill and nameless faces made her miss Atlanta.

It made her miss her family.

She could do without the constant knife in her back from so-called friends and the gossip mill that kept her poor mother’s phone ringing off the hook, though. Her fingers flexed around the pen in her hand. She knew she couldn’t go back home yet. She’d punch Felix Hayworth in his ladder-climbing nose. She needed the distance right now. Her hot temper and betrayed heart needed time to forgive, or at least enough time to stop contemplating Felix’s unfortunate demise.

This internship was her ticket away from the rumors. It offered her a chance to change her own fortune. She wasn’t a party girl like those pictures suggested. She spent her Friday nights in college with Jane Austen and Dr. McDreamy. On the rare occasion she did go out, it was with her friends for a cocktail or a movie.

As constant and reliable as the bells on Big Ben, Stella waited for her next to the escalators at the exchange. Magnolia loved Stella. She wasn’t a New York native, but her family visited the city from New Jersey so much that Stella knew it well enough to thrive as a new resident. She found Magnolia the first, second, and third time she got lost on her way home, and Stella taught her how to ride the subway. At least how to ride the subway without looking like a tourist and risk getting mugged every day.

Stella’s smile at the sight of her was instant. Mocking.

“Damn, girl. Look at those legs.”

Magnolia groaned, bypassing her friend and hopping directly on the escalator.

Stella ran after her. “What happened? That is not the outfit we discussed on the phone last night.”

Magnolia didn’t turn around. “I had a change of heart.”

Stella stepped up beside her and grinned. “You spilled your coffee again, didn’t you? What did I tell you about that silly football mug? The lid is broken. Throw that wretched thing away.”

Magnolia shot Stella a menacing glare over her shoulder. It wasn’t the first time Stella made such a horrific suggestion about her beloved mug that survived eight finals weeks. The mug wasn’t her problem.

Stella’s frown turned sympathetic at the edges. “Sorry. Again. I know I’m not helping.”

Magnolia hopped off the edge of the escalator, searching the intersection for their next train. “If you want to be helpful, then tell me I don’t look like a streetwalker and Evan isn’t going to pull me from the interview tonight.”

Stella threw her arm around Magnolia’s shoulder. A gentle Stella-like hug. “Evan would never pull you. You’re the best on-air person in our group.”

Stella would make a terrific mother one day. She was a constant breath of fresh air in a city that rained doubt.

“Thanks.” For the first time since she woke up, Magnolia took a moment to just breathe.

The train to Madison Square Garden was crowded, just as she predicted, but at least they were on time. They followed the sea of blue and red to the arena, Magnolia switching her sneakers for her leopard print heels at the crosswalk. She pulled her lanyard with her press badge out of her bag.

Stella grinned while Magnolia slipped it over her head, eyeing the jewels that trimmed the edges of the lanyard. “You’re such a rhinestone cowgirl.”

Magnolia pushed her glasses up her nose. “That’s rude. I’m not a cowgirl.”

“I apologize. Rhinestone princess.”

Magnolia shot Stella a playful glare. “Owning a BeDazzler isn’t a crime.”

“It is in Manhattan, and pretty much every place in the entire world except that crazy place in your head where it’s okay to sparklify everything you touch.”

Magnolia smiled, skipping down the street, her bad mood slowly slipping away. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, Stella. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

“Isn’t there something to be said for quality over quantity and less is more?”

Magnolia winked at her best friend as she backed into the door at the side entrance. “Not in the south.”

Stella rushed in after her, whispering as they squeezed through the crowd. “Last time I checked, you’re above the Mason-Dixon line.”

Their boss Evan waited for them at the gate with two of the other interns, Marc and Troy. His face fell at the sight of them, and Magnolia knew why. She held up her hands, refusing to take responsibility for their missing friend. “Cressida told Stella she’d meet us here.”

Cressida’s reputation for being late was becoming legendary. Magnolia took the itinerary Evan offered.

“I thought I asked you two to keep her in line.”

“I’m not her mother,” Magnolia shot back, straightening her backpack and running her gaze down the list of the night’s events. Her interview was in bold letters. “We’re adults, in the general sense of the term. I don’t know where I am half the time, and I make it to work.”

Evan shook his head, his features still tight. He was only a couple years older than they were. He completed the internship at MSG three years ago. Evan understood more than anyone that this internship was about proving you had what it took to be in this business, and more importantly, a responsible adult. He ushered the boys forward. “Everyone to your spots. Magnolia, you’re in the box with me so we can prep for your interview. I guess Cressida will grace us with her presence when she feels like it.”

Magnolia nodded and stayed behind as the others hurried off to their stations. Stella gave her a very queasy-looking thumbs up. She started to follow behind Evan when he held his hand up.

“What?”

He looked at her again, his tight lips fading into a soft smile. “Have you looked in the mirror?”

She cringed. Her choice of leggy attire really
was
that bad. She opened her mouth to explain, but Evan pointed at her mouth. “You have bagel on your face.”

She reached up and touched her lips, only to find a glob of cream cheese.

Evan laughed, reaching over to take her things. “You might want a minute to take care of that before your big debut. I’ll meet you in the box.”

He continued to laugh as he walked off, and Magnolia could have dropped on the spot and cried.

‘Worst day ever’ started to have new meaning.