Blindsided (Fair Catch Series, Book Three) Read online

  “You made your choice, Mari.” Then a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “The wrong choice.”

  Something about the way London said those words prompted Mari to ask, “What do you mean?”

  Her lips twisted into a smirk. “If you think you can run to Hank now, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  That thought had crossed her mind, but now she wasn’t so sure. “Why do you say that?”

  London sat back in her chair and stretched her arms across the armrests, curling her fingers around the ends, her perfectly manicured nails visible. “Like I said, I spoke to Hank a short time ago.”

  What had he said? Mari’s entire body tensed.

  “He was quite penitent, said he felt terrible about the entire thing, practically begged me not to fire you.”

  Love toward Hank swept over her. He’d gone to bat for her.

  “I told him I couldn’t have you caring for our child when you’d destroyed my trust in you.” Her eyebrows rose. “When I explained my reasoning, he agreed with me and said he supported my decision one hundred percent. He pointed out that Harper is his priority, not you. He also said that while you were a nice diversion, he realizes that’s all you were. He admitted that he’d made a mistake, that you were a mistake. One that he swears to never repeat.” She paused. “By the end of our conversation, he actually encouraged me to fire you. Said it was the right thing to do. That it would be best for everyone.” She sneered. “That he was glad to be rid of you.”

  Was this true? She didn’t want to believe it. Maybe London was making it all up.

  “I don’t believe you,” Mari said, her voice shaky.

  London looked at Mari, her lips pursed, then she picked up her phone. “Hear for yourself.” She tapped her screen, then she set her phone on the table.

  Mari stared at it, her body tense, and a moment later Hank’s voice filled the room.

  “I already apologized, London.”

  “Give me a break, Hank,” London said. “Mari should have been off-limits.”

  “I’m well aware of that, and in hindsight I can see I made a terrible mistake.” His voice was nearly a growl. “One thing you can count on, it’s a mistake I won’t make a second time.”

  London picked up her phone and tapped the screen again, and the room fell silent.

  Mari thought she was going to be sick. Why had Hank said that? When he’d told her he loved her, had he been lying? Why would he do that?

  London’s lips were a straight line. “Believe me now?”

  Mari didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, instead she stared at her lap.

  “Hank was my husband. We were a family. We have a child together.”

  Each statement was like a knife digging in to Mari’s heart. Hank would never be her husband. She would never have a child with him. They would never be a family. She’d been a fool to fall for him.

  Numbness spread throughout her body, but she forced herself to look at London.

  London went on, her voice light and airy. “You’ve never been married so it’s impossible for you to understand the lifelong bond that Hank and I will always have. When it comes to Harper, we trust each other implicitly. When one of us makes a decision for her, the other is completely supportive.” She paused. “Whatever you thought you had with Hank…” She waved her hand like she was shooing away an annoying insect. “It was less than nothing. Completely and totally meaningless. It’s sad, really. You’re incredibly pathetic.” London stared at her. “I pity you.”

  Crushed. Pulverized. That’s how she felt. The entire universe was caving in on her. It wasn’t just her heart that was shattered beyond repair, it was her entire soul.

  “I can see that you’re upset,” London said as she tilted her head. “Let me give you a word of advice. Move away from here. Start over somewhere else. Word of what happened will get around and no one will hire you.” Her lips tugged upward. “At least no one who wants to stay in my good graces.”

  “Can I at least tell Harper good-bye?” Mari’s voice was dull and lifeless, but the idea of Harper waking up and Mari being gone from her life was more than she could bear.

  London narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for that? I don’t want you to upset her.”

  Forcing herself to get it together, Mari nodded. “I won’t upset her. Please, just let me tell her good-bye.”

  London dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Fine. Go pack your things and I’ll bring her up to see you in an hour. Then you’ll leave.”

  Nodding, Mari heaved herself out of the chair and stumbled away.

  An hour later, as promised, London brought Harper to Mari’s room to see her. She’d packed and loaded her car and now was dreading saying good-bye to the sweet little girl that had become like her own child.

  “I already explained that you were leaving,” London said matter-of-factly.

  “I don’t want you to leave,” Harper cried as she threw her arms around Mari’s neck.

  Mari hugged her tight, barely managing to contain her own tears. “I know, sweetheart. I know. Maybe I can visit you.” Mari looked hopefully over Harper’s shoulder at London, who frowned deeply.

  “Yes,” Harper said. “Visit me.”

  She pulled back slightly and smiled at Harper. “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

  Harper held up her pinky. “Promise your pinky?”

  She hooked her pinky with Harper’s. “Promise my pinky.”

  “Okay,” London said. “Mari has to go now. Give her another hug, angel, then tell her good-bye.”

  Harper flung herself at Mari and Mari couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer. Her world had collapsed. She’d lost Harper and Hank. Just as she’d feared she would. Now she had nothing. Absolutely nothing. She couldn’t even nanny anymore. At least not for anyone who cared what London thought. And a lot of people cared what London thought.

  London gently extricated Harper from Mari’s arms, holding her in her own arms. “Okay, Mari. Good-bye now.”

  Before Mari could answer, London left the room with a wailing Harper in her arms.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  When she’d driven a block from London’s house, Mari couldn’t see through her curtain of tears and she was forced to pull over. She sobbed until she was empty, and then she sobbed some more. Tears and snot flowed together down her face, but she didn’t care. Her life was over, everything that mattered to her had been ripped away. And it was her own fault. She’d known this could happen but she’d let her heart rule her head. And now she was paying the price. She was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

  When she finally got her emotions under control, she struggled to think of where she could go. Her immediate thought was to go to her parents’ house, but her embarrassment over what she’d done, how foolish she’d been, kept her from wanting to face them. Even though she knew they would love her no matter what, the thought of telling them that she’d fallen in love with Hank—fallen under his spell, really—and that he’d then turned his back on her, had actually encouraged London to fire her… It was too much. She couldn’t do it. The wounds were too fresh. The shame too deep.

  The thought of Hank taking London’s side against her brought on a fresh bout of tears, and it took another ten minutes before she’d calmed enough to think clearly.

  With no idea where she should go, she drew in a ragged breath, put her car into gear, then pulled onto the road. Eventually she found herself heading north on I-5, and as she drove, her mind filled with memories of the last two weeks, of the happiness she’d felt the entire time she’d been at Hank’s. Until that morning.

  Had it only been that morning that Hank had held her in his arms while she’d cried and told her to trust him, that everything would be okay?

  She had trusted him, but he’d turned on her, sided with London. Who could blame him? He had a history with London, had a child with her. Of course he had to side with her. Who was Mari to him but a tiny diversion from football—his tr
ue passion.

  The memory him saying she was a mistake hurt so deeply that her stomach cramped up and she nearly pulled off the Interstate.

  No. She couldn’t let him affect her that way. Despite feeling like her life had ended, she knew that wasn’t true, that in reality her whole life stretched out in front of her.

  Two hours later, after she’d stopped to fill her car with gas, she realized what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go—where she was already headed.

  London had encouraged her to get out of town, and she agreed. She needed to make a fresh start, but she wanted to go to the one place where she’d felt a measure of happiness. Sacramento. Even if she never saw Hank again, Sacramento was as good a place as any to start over.

  With a firm destination in mind, Mari felt a distinct sense of relief, of peace, and she knew it was the right thing to do, and by early evening, she entered Sacramento’s city limits.

  She and Harper had only taken a few forays away from Hank’s house, but even so, she recognized a few landmarks. Sacramento was the capitol of California, and though Los Angeles had eight times as many people, it was still a sizable city.

  Now that Mari had decided to make Sacramento her home, she felt a smile tugging up the corners of her mouth as she looked for a place to spend the night. Over the years that she’d been a live-in nanny she’d been extremely frugal and she’d put aside most of her earnings. Now that she was unemployed, those funds would be her lifeline.

  As she checked in to a motel that looked clean and safe, yet was relatively inexpensive, she considered her options. Certain she could find a job as a nanny, she wondered if that was what she wanted to do. Her dream was to be an artist. Maybe it was time to get out of the nanny business. Maybe it was time to follow her dream, to become the artist she’d always wanted to be.

  Thinking of painting inevitably took her mind to her art studio at Hank’s house, which led her to memories of being with Hank. And those memories were like a massive boulder falling on her chest. Lying on the bed in her motel room, she had to work to draw air into her lungs. It was like she was drowning in sorrow. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t…

  Gasping for air, her eyes wide, her heart pounding like a jackhammer, she realized she was having a panic attack.

  Breathe, Mari. Just breathe.

  Turning her head to stare out the window, she focused on the leaves of a nearby tree. Leaves turning yellow and red. Fall leaves. Gently fluttering in the September breeze. Peaceful, lovely leaves.

  After several minutes the panic attack passed, and for the next few minutes she focused on her calm, even breathing.

  Tomorrow would be better, she promised herself. Tomorrow would be awesome.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  When Mari woke the next morning, her first thought was Harper—Was she up? What did Mari need to do to take care of her? Then the reality of her situation exploded in her mind and she allowed herself a good cry before giving herself a stern talking to. It was time to move on with her life, time to turn the page and start a new chapter.

  Sadness descended over her when she thought of Hank and Harper, but she couldn’t let that define her, couldn’t let that hold her back.

  After a quick breakfast at a nearby diner, she went back to her motel room and used her phone to search for an apartment. Though the apartments weren’t cheap, they were much less expensive than the ones in Los Angeles. As she searched for a place that would be affordable yet safe, she came to the conclusion that she would have to get a job. At least a part-time job. She was determined to devote as much time as possible to painting, but her savings would only go so far.

  Later that morning she looked at several apartment complexes. She had no desire to live in the cheap motel where she’d spent the night, so when she found an apartment that seemed to be in a safe area, was clean, affordable and furnished, and most importantly was immediately available, she signed the rental agreement.

  As she carried in her few belongings, excitement swept over her. This really was a fresh start. It was strange to only have herself to think about after being responsible for Harper, but Mari tried not to focus on that. Instead, she set up her easel in a sunny corner of the apartment, eager to paint.

  But that eagerness turned to despair when day after day no inspiration came. The only thing she could think about—the only person—was Hank. Why had he turned on her? She thought they loved each other. Had it all been fake, all pretend? It had seemed so real, so genuine.

  Confused and hurt, she tried to move on, but try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, going so far as to look him up online to learn what was going on with his injury. She discovered he’d been put on the inactive list, which she learned meant he wouldn’t be playing in Sunday’s game. How was he feeling? Was his hamstring still sore? Was he getting by okay? Had Mrs. Stillman returned to take care of him?

  Wishing desperately that she was there to take care of him, she cried more tears than she knew a human could produce, but even when it seemed there were no tears left, her heart ached more than it had ever ached in her life.

  When Sunday arrived, she didn’t even have to think about it. She turned on the small TV in her apartment to watch his game. He didn’t take the field, wasn’t even suited up, but when the cameras panned to the sidelines and she saw him, her breath caught. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever known and she loved him with all her heart. There was no denying it. No matter how hard she tried to pretend that he didn’t mean anything to her, the truth was, he meant everything to her.

  Why did her dream have to end so badly, so painfully, so permanently?

  Over the next week she continued to search for inspiration while at the same time searching for a job, but underneath it all she was counting down the days, then the hours, until she could see Hank on TV again. She’d read that he’d been taken off the inactive list, but it was still uncertain if he would play. Totally caught up in thoughts of him, when she saw him take the field, she was torn between excitement at seeing him in action and terror that he would get hurt again.

  Glued to the TV, Mari watched Hank’s every move, and when the game ended and he walked off the field unhurt, her whole body relaxed.

  This was insane. She couldn’t live like this, obsessing over him when he was out of her life. Thoughts of him were keeping her from moving on, keeping her from painting—something that should be as natural to her as breathing.

  She had to do something about this. Had to. Was desperate to.

  That’s when she knew what she had to do.

  Chapter Forty

  Monday morning Mari got some good news for a change. The Children’s Museum called to schedule a job interview. She’d applied the previous week and was excited that she may soon have the opportunity to work with children again. The interview was scheduled for Wednesday.

  Although she was grateful that a job may be just around the corner, a job she was certain she would love, another item on her calendar took up all of her thoughts. On Sunday the Vipers would be playing at home, and when the game ended and the players left the stadium, she would be there.

  She needed to see Hank. In person. Not certain if she would approach him, or if she even wanted him to know she was there, she had to see him.

  All week long it was all she could do to not think about Sunday, to not think about seeing Hank. But in reality, she was living for that day. The rest of the days were simply obstacles to getting there. Even her job interview, which went very well, wasn’t much of a diversion, and by the time Sunday morning arrived, she was up well before the sun.

  Taking extra care with how she looked, when it was time to leave, she was shaking with nerves. The game started at eleven, and even though she was certain she wouldn’t have the chance to see him until after the game, she wanted to get there early.

  As she drove to the stadium, she was worried she wouldn’t be able to see him at all. She’d never been to a professional footb
all game before, and she’d read online that it was difficult to get near the players after the game. With no idea what to expect, when she reached the stadium, she parked in the huge lot and shut off the engine, then stayed where she was, her heart racing.

  What would happen when—if—she saw him? Would she be able to hang back, or would she shove through the crowd just for the chance to get near him? What if he saw her? Would he look at her with disgust, with irritation that she would dare track him down? Or would he be happy to see her? Maybe he’d even feel bad about what he’d done to her, about the way he’d treated her. About the way he’d turned on her.

  The more she thought about it, the more panicky she became, and when she felt a panic attack coming on, she gripped the steering wheel as she frantically looked around for something to focus on, something to anchor her. Then she looked at the stadium itself. It was huge and unmoving. Closing her eyes, Mari visualized the massive structure anchoring her to the earth, keeping her steady, keeping her calm. Finally, her breathing slowed and the attack ended.

  Terrified that seeing Hank would send her into a fresh attack, she rethought this whole idea. Maybe she should turn around and go home and focus on things that were going well. Like her new job. On Friday the Children’s Museum had offered her the position she’d interviewed for and she’d accepted. She would start the next day, Monday. Things were looking up. Why did she want to torture herself with hurts from the past?

  Because she had to do this. Had to face him.

  Hank peeled off his sweat-soaked jersey. It had been a tough game, although they’d pulled out a win in the end. He made his way to the shower, flinching when the hot needles hit his fresh scrapes and bruises. Even though showering after a game could be painful, he was beyond grateful that he was healthy again, that his leg was one hundred percent again.

  Scrubbing off the dirt and sweat from the game, Hank thought about the plays he was happy with and the plays he needed to improve.