Willowleaf Lane (24 page)

“Not like you,” Spence growled. “The minute I woke up and realized I needed the pain meds to make it through each game, I walked away and went through a program. I didn’t drag it out for years and destroy other people in the process. I just don’t understand why. You didn’t need the money. You had all the endorsements you wanted.”

“It was never about the money. Things got out of control. I only meant to help a few guys out here and there with their game. You know, show them the ropes, like I helped you.”

“You
never
helped me with ’roids or pills.”

“You didn’t need them. Not until later, anyway, and I would have helped you out there but your own doctor kept you supplied. But other guys weren’t you. They needed that little extra boost and the team was better for it. We made it to the pennant race, didn’t we? Because of me. It was just another way to play the game, you know? Then everything started falling apart. People started whispering. Rumors started flying. I knew it was only a matter of time until everything busted open.”

“You needed a fall guy. Don’t think I haven’t figured it out. Everything you did, from sleeping with Jade to dragging her into the whole thing, was with the intention of boxing me in so I couldn’t break free without implicating Jade and destroying Kris. You knew I would keep my mouth shut. You read me just like you could always read a batter’s cues.”

“Smoke, you have to believe me. I never thought things would go down like they did.”

The note of sincerity in the other man’s voice was chilling. Charlotte’s chest ached, listening to Mike Broderick talk so casually about destroying Spence’s life.

“I thought the club would sweep it under the rug, do a quick mock investigation and then let you go quietly. You were out anyway. Everybody knew you couldn’t come back from that injury. But me, I was still on the fast track for the Hall of Fame. How was I supposed to know that asshole reporter from
Sports
Illustrated
had sources who leaked the drug bust in your car?”

“You were willing to blacken my rep with everybody in the Pioneers’ organization. What the hell did you care if it went wide?”

“I didn’t want that. You had to know. Anyway, you never went to trial, right? Everything went away, just like I told you it would. No harm, no foul.”

“You son of a bitch.” Spence’s voice was lethal and she wondered if Mike could hear it. “What about Jade?”

“What about her?”

“She loved you. In her own screwed-up way, she loved you and you used her to get to me, just so you could cover your ass. I know you gave her the pills she took that last day. Because of you, my daughter has to live without her mother the rest of her life.”

“I never meant for things to go that far,” he repeated. “I swear, I’m clean now and I’m here, right? That’s got to count for something. I’ve got a big check for A Warrior’s Hope.”

“I don’t want your money. Put your checkbook away.” All the anger had trickled away from Spence’s voice and now he only sounded exhausted—exhausted and unutterably sad—and she had to clutch her strappy heel in her hand to keep from going to him, wrapping her arms around him and offering any comfort she could.

“Whatever you were going to give to the charity, I’ll match it,” he went on, “but I don’t want anything from you. You can figure out what to tell Kris about it. Hell, you’ve been lying to her for twenty years. What’s a few more?”

Charlotte loved Spence. In that moment, Charlotte realized she loved this man with all her heart.

“Come on. Don’t be a prick. We came all this way. Take the check before I—”

His voice trailed off and she wondered for a moment if Spence had strangled him after all, and then she heard a new voice on the scene, a female voice she didn’t recognize.

“Before you what, Mike? Don’t let me stop you. By the way, you gentlemen might want to make sure no asshole reporters are within earshot before you start throwing juicy accusations around.”

Charlotte had to see, to know what was going on. She peeked around the door frame and saw the reporter she thought had wiped a tear during Charlotte’s follow-up to Spence’s speech.

“Shit.” At a glance, she saw Mike Broderick’s face had turned an ugly red. “This was a private conversation.”

“A juicy one, for sure. Here I was all frustrated that I can’t seem to get cell service out there so I came inside to send an email with Wi-Fi and look what lands in my lap. It must be my birthday or something.”

“Dina—” Spence began.

“This is quite a story, Smoke, you have to admit. Hall of Fame candidate Mike Broderick dealing drugs and steroids inside the Pioneers’ locker room. And framing his own protégé to cover it up—not to mention sleeping with said protégé’s wife in the bargain.”

“You’ve got absolutely no proof,” Mike blustered, a note of panic in his voice.

The reporter held up a phone. “Yeah. I do. When I heard the raised voices, I had a hunch and turned on my recording app.”

“Illegally obtained recordings aren’t admissible in court.”

“Maybe not a court of law. But I think our friend Gregory here could tell you a little about how these things roll in the court of public opinion, couldn’t you?”

* * *

S
PENCE
EASED
A
hip onto his assistant’s desk, his mind racing. It would be so simple to let things play out this way. Dina could take the story and run with it. Mike would be vilified; Spence would be exonerated. The whole ugly truth would come out, as he had always expected it eventually would be.

On the other hand, this would destroy Kris and their children, and Peyton would know Jade had framed him, had hidden the drugs in Spence’s car, to help her lover make it to the Hall of Fame.

A disaster, all the way around.

What would Charlotte want him to do? She had to have heard everything through the open door of the darkened office where he knew she must be sitting. He wanted to go in and ask her how he should handle this.

“How much would it take to keep you quiet?” Mike asked urgently.

“More than you can possibly imagine,” Dina snapped. “I was a huge fan of Smokin’ Hot Spence Gregory. It hurt to watch his name dragged through the mud. You, on the other hand, I’ve always thought were an arrogant prick. Nice to know my instincts didn’t let me down.”

Mike quickly changed tactics and his expression took on a pleading note. “Let’s think about this. Come on, Dina. Can’t we come to some kind of arrangement?”

“Save your wheeling and dealing for the Portland district attorney. You’re going to need it.”

Spence didn’t feel at all sorry for Mike, but he did worry for the innocents who would suffer if the whole sordid mess were aired in public.

“Let it go, Dina,” he finally said quietly.

The reporter turned to him, black eyes wide. “No freaking way. Are you kidding me? This is a huge scoop. I won’t just walk away.”

Spence’s life had been intentionally destroyed by Mike Broderick. He thought about the past year marked by bitterness and hatred. What the hell had those emotions accomplished? Nothing. Not one damn thing. Instead of moving on, he had drawn into himself and let his anger fester.

Until Charlotte.

She had helped him look outside himself at people with trials much bigger and life changing than his own.

He was a professional athlete who had been paid an obscene amount of money to throw a ball. When that had been taken away from him, first by injury then by scandal, he had spent far too much time feeling sorry for himself and hating the man in front of him, someone he now saw as rather pitiful.

It was past time to let go.

The people he wanted to help with A Warrior’s Hope had volunteered to go into dangerous situations and now had to pay the price for it for the rest of their lives. Compared to their heroics, what he and Mike did made them little better than circus clowns.

Charlotte had taught him how to move forward and focus on the things that really mattered. Knowing she was in the other room listening added conviction to what he knew he needed to do.

“Let’s think about this, Dina. What if Mike comes clean on his own terms? An exclusive interview with you. Instead of a scoop you’re going to have to dig like hell for, especially because I’ll deny everything, you get the full story.”

“No way!” Mike exclaimed. He looked ready to explode.

“Mike. You don’t have a choice here. You either let Dina take over the story and run with it her way or you control it. You make your apology, you express deep regret for your mistakes and all the people you hurt, you go into rehab. Real rehab. You can still fix this, as long as you’re in the driver’s seat. You might even still make it into the Hall of Fame.”

Mike looked cornered and angry, and after a long moment, Spence set a hand on his shoulder, remembering the man he had once admired so much, who had tried his best to teach a naive nineteen-year-old kid how to handle sudden fame and all the pitfalls that came with it.

“Trust me, Mike. For Krissy’s sake, trust me. You’ve got to go down swinging. That’s the biggest mistake I made. I knew I was innocent and I figured justice would prevail. It eventually did, in a manner of speaking, but by then the damage had been done. This is going to come out, either way. You know it is. Give Dina an exclusive interview, laying out everything, then you can start rebuilding.”

“You just want to clear your name,” Mike said. “I wouldn’t put it past the two of you to have planned this all along.”

“Think about it. How could I have managed that? I didn’t even know you were coming until you walked in. Beyond that, I’m not the master manipulator here. That would be you.”

“You can’t deny you’re going to benefit, either way.”

“You don’t need to bring my name or Jade’s into it. In fact, I would rather you didn’t. My daughter has suffered enough. She doesn’t need to know what you turned her mother into.”

Dina looked at Spence as if he’d taken one too many line drives to the head. “He ruined your life. Why would you want to help him?”

Spence sighed. He couldn’t explain it, even to himself; he just knew it was the right thing to do. “He was a good man, once upon a time. I’d like to think that man just got lost somewhere along the way. And he had the brains to marry far above him—Kris Broderick is one of the best people I know and she deserves better.”

Mike scrubbed at his face, apparently realizing he didn’t have any choice in the matter. “Damn it. I don’t know what to do.”

He looked like a weak, pitiful excuse for a man and Spence felt sorry for him. It was an odd feeling after all the months of fury.

“In better days, you taught me that when the bases are loaded and you’re facing a full count, your only chance is to listen to your gut and throw like hell. This is one of those times, Mike.”

He could see the other man wavering, that it was sinking in hard that his life was about to change, and the only thing he had left was damage control. “I need to talk to Kris before anything happens. I can’t just spring this on her. I’ll...have to tell her everything.”

“Why don’t you take a day or two to come up with a plan?” Dina said. “You should talk to your wife, your agent, find a PR rep. I’m good with that.”

All things considered, Dina was being surprisingly decent about the whole thing, for a reporter. Spence supposed either way, she was going to have a huge scoop.

“You two can use my office to figure out the details,” he said.

Mike led the way and again Spence felt a little sorry for him, something he wouldn’t have believed possible even fifteen minutes earlier.

When Dina closed the door behind her, still wearing a stunned expression, he headed over to the darkened office.

“You can come out now,” he called softly.

After a pause, he heard a rustle of fabric and then she stood in the doorway, one strappy heel dangling from her hand. Her nose was red, her eyes watery.

“How did you know I was in here?” she whispered.

He debated what to tell her and finally decided on the truth. “You have a very distinct scent. Vanilla and something citrusy. It always makes me hungry.”

“Pineapple,” she murmured.

“Ah.” He tilted his head. “Want to tell me why you’re crying?”

She grabbed a tissue out of the little wooden box on his receptionist’s desk. “You just... He ruined your life. You could have had payback and you helped him instead. I don’t understand you.”

He laughed softly. “Sometimes I don’t get myself. Come here.”

He pulled her into an embrace and, as her arms slid around his waist, he was filled with a vast sense of peace. He couldn’t have explained it, he just soaked it in. She had believed in him even before she knew the truth. The wonder of that still astonished him.

She sniffled a little and just held on for a few moments then she pulled away, reaching for that tissue again. “This is going to change everything, you know. You told him to keep your name out of it, but we both know that reporter won’t miss a chance to clear the name of Smokin’ Hot Spence Gregory if she can.”

Oh, how he hated that nickname. It had been a joke among his teammates early in his career, ostensibly referring to his fastball but really more of a dig after one of the women’s magazines did a photo spread of him.

“We’ll see,” he answered.

For so long his goal had been to regain everything that had been taken away from him. But as he looked around this office, as he thought of all the people out on the terrace who were now working together to build something to help others, he wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.

After another few moments, Charlotte exhaled heavily and then stepped away. “I should, um, get this fudge out before people take off. My staff went to all the trouble to fix it up. I wouldn’t want to have their work go to waste.”

Before he could protest, she slipped her shoe on and picked up a couple boxes from the corner.

“Let me help you with that,” he said.

“Thanks.”

She gave him a smile that seemed a little forced and handed him one of the boxes. With one more look at that closed door, he headed back to the terrace and his guests.