Winning Streak (22 page)

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Authors: Katie Kenyhercz

BOOK: Winning Streak
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Madden was serving his last plate when he took a step back and bumped into Collier. Huh? Colly's table was on the other side of the room. She'd made sure of it. Madden turned around and apologized, but Colly pushed on his shoulder and sent him off balance. He fell into another player with a tray. It seemed like the food flew in slow motion and rained down on the guests. The responding shrieks caught everyone's attention. The music cut out.

Damn it
. She hurried through the crowd and bent to check on the people wearing their dinners. “I'm so sorry. Is everyone okay? We'll get all of this cleaned and get you fresh entrees.”

“You have some nerve, man.” The intent in Colly's voice caught her attention.

She turned from the guests and slid between the two men, keeping her voice down and smile in place. “Ben, it was an accident.”

“That's not what I was talking about.”

“I'd like you to remember and respect our agreement for tonight. Could you do that for me?” She closed the distance and set a hand on his arm, snaring his gaze and trying to hold it, but he kept looking over her shoulder at Madden.

“He shouldn't be here. What kind of executive bets against his own team?”

“He didn't—” Before she could get another word out, Colly moved around her, knocking his shoulder hard against Madden's as he walked out. The whole room had watched the exchange, and from their expressions, heard it. The redness in Madden's face and the shame in his eyes broke her heart, but consoling would have to wait.

She headed for the stage as fast as she could and grabbed a mic from one of her staff. “Ladies and gentlemen, I'm so sorry for the disruption and hope you'll forgive us and enjoy the rest of the evening. We'll get everyone cleaned up and get new food out to you momentarily.” But before she could even finish her sentence, the guests covered in chicken francese were gathering their coats and belongings. Operation Fix-It was going up in flames.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Monday, April 14th

I'm fired. I'm so fired.
Saralynn sat at her desk, waiting for the call into Jacey's office. She'd tried to talk to Madden after the disastrous event, but he'd left as soon as she closed the night with thanks and one more apology. He hadn't answered his phone all day Sunday. She'd picked up her keys three times but never made it out the door. He'd obviously wanted to be alone.

So now her heart was trying to break the sound barrier not just in anticipation of the worst and most deserved disappointment speech she'd ever receive but also of facing Madden. They'd gotten so close, pushed beyond his insecurities and guilt, even made headway on hers, and it felt like all that progress just vanished. Needing space was never a good omen for a relationship. She had plenty of experience as the one requesting it.
I need to be on my own for a while. I need to figure things out.
They sounded reasonable on the outside, but what they really meant was
I can't do this.
It had taken twenty-three years to find this. Could she lose it so fast?

Her stomach lurched when Jacey's voice came through the intercom. “You can come in.”

She took a deep breath through her nose and tried to keep her breakfast in her stomach. That breakfast might've only been coffee, but recycling it in her boss's office wouldn't help her case. She couldn't control what Madden would do, but she could do one last thing for him.

As soon as she let herself in and closed the door, she focused on Jacey. “Saturday night was not his fault. He had what turned out to be very valid reservations, but I chose to proceed with my plan. I should have picked up on the lingering tension with Collier and not pushed so hard to attach Madden to the event. I take full responsibility.” From the corner of her eye, she could see Madden staring at her, incredulous.

“Saralynn, your idea was a good one. Had it turned out differently, it
would
have been good for the team. We all thought the guys could get along or at least fake it for one night, and most of them did. Collier's being fined and suspended for two games.”

“Jace, no. The playoffs are starting, and—”

“Colly's an important part of the team. I know. But he just short of publicly attacked an executive and made a scene during a team event. I have to deal with that, and you know it.”

“Let's be honest,” Madden said. “I caused all this in one way or another, and I didn't mean to. I was just never a right fit for this position. I wanted to be a part of Dad's legacy, but under the envy, I always knew he was right to give it to you.”

“Maddie … ” Jacey's eyes watered, and she pressed her lips together until they were pale.

Madden's implications were clear, and as scary as that was, Saralynn had to fight the urge to slip out of the room. This was private between brother and sister, and this felt like intruding.

“I love you, sis. I want what's best for you. And for me. I don't think this is it.” His throat worked as she assumed he was trying to keep his cool. “So I'm resigning as assistant GM. I'm gonna find something that suits me better. Just don't blame Saralynn for Saturday night. It was all me. Everything she's done since she started has helped the team. You need her.”

He finally met her eyes, and the emotion there nearly undid her, too.
I need
you
.
She needed to say something, anything to slow things down, but her mind was completely blank. Of all the things she expected from Madden in this meeting, his resignation wasn't one of them.

Jacey seemed equally stunned, staring at her brother as if she'd never seen him before.

Madden looked at both of them. “You're probably getting tired of me saying it, but I'm sorry. For everything.” He went out the door and kept walking.

For a second, Saralynn just stared after him in shock, then took off at a jog, ignoring the curious stares. She just made it in the elevator before the doors closed and grabbed his arm as soon as they did. “What the hell was that?”

“I meant what I said. I never fit here. The past couple months made me see what I'd been ignoring. I was good at my job, but it was never really what I wanted to do.” It was the lack of fire in his voice, the calm, even tone that made her nervous.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Long-term, I don't know. Right now, I need to get away for a while. Figure things out.”

The words nearly knocked her down. She set a hand on the railing and held it tightly enough that she wouldn't shake. All those guys she'd dated and dumped, had they felt like this?
What about me? What about us?
The questions threatened to burst out of her mouth without permission, but she held them in. If he had comforting answers, they wouldn't be having this conversation.

He reached out and took her free hand. “I'm not saying I want to—”

“Don't.” She pulled her hand away and forced herself to meet his eyes as the doors opened to the basement hallway. “How about we don't say anything right now?”

He flinched, and God, it took every ounce of strength she had not to hug him and beg him to stay. He hesitated a second, then leaned down and kissed her briefly before walking off the elevator. She was too numb to follow him any farther. It wasn't until the doors closed that it hit her. They might be over. Really over. And she'd just let him go.

Tears fell faster and faster. She clamped a hand over her mouth and cried into it, afraid if she didn't, she'd scream instead. Before the elevator could move, she hit open. Madden was already gone, but she wasn't going after him.

She knocked on Allie's door and fell into her sister's arms.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Monday, April 21st

Madden's feet sunk into the wet grass as he walked the grounds of Lake View Cemetery. A brisk wind made him hold his coat closed with one hand and carry the bouquet in his other, chin down and eyes up as he counted trees. It had been a few years since his father's burial, and he hadn't been back. Following landmarks was the best bet.

He'd spent one week in Cleveland. A lot colder than Vegas, and a hell of a lot grayer, but the familiar streets and buildings warmed him in a way that he'd missed. When you spent the first twenty-five years of your life in a place, it would take longer than a two-year hiatus to dissolve the feeling of
home
when you came back.

He'd stayed at the hotel connected to the old arena downtown. So much of his childhood echoed in that place. That's why he'd picked it. But instead of the expected comfort, it felt like hanging out with ghosts. Apparitions of his past lurked around every corner, reminding him of what was and would never be again. He'd switched to a Holiday Inn just outside the city limits after two nights and slept better.

It hadn't been his intent when he left Las Vegas, but after checking the local paper, he'd made some calls and went on a few accounting interviews that showed promise. The thought of working with numbers was appealing. He was a lot better at saving other people's money than his own. It would be a safe choice.

There it was. The old maple shading the Vaughn family plots. It was just starting to bud but remained mostly skeletal, adding to the eerie feel of the place. The cemetery was known for its ornate mausoleums and statues, so it wasn't a surprise their father had chosen it, but the raised stone Jack Vaughn shared with Madden's mother was relatively simple. Smooth, speckled pink marble, an angel in the middle, and engravings on either side. Cecelia Vaughn, loving wife and mother, gone too soon. He couldn't even remember her. Jonathan James Vaughn, devoted husband and father. Well, the first part was true.

Jacey had always said Jack had been a different person when their mother was alive. Lighthearted, funny, home. Madden had to take her word for it. In his memory, their father had been distracted, distant, away. They were always taken care of, though, and that was something. The Jack Vaughn he knew believed in committing yourself 100 percent to your goals and achieving them at all costs.

Madden laid the yellow roses over his parents' grave then pushed his hands in his pockets. No one was around mid-afternoon on a Friday, but still, it wasn't easy getting the words out. “Hey, Mom. Dad. It's been a while. You'd be so proud of Jace. She turned the team around and even won a few Cups. She got married, and you have a grandchild on the way. Me? I threatened pretty much all of that. So you were right, Dad. I wasn't ready for that kind of responsibility. But I'm doing better finally, and I'm trying to work it all out. If you've been watching, you know it hasn't been a straight road.”

The confession felt good, liberating. As many times as he'd been through gambling programs, he'd never been able to complete this stage—apologizing to everyone he'd hurt or disappointed. When Jack Vaughn was living, an apology hadn't seemed warranted. After he died, it hadn't seemed possible. Or maybe that was an excuse. Apologizing to his father meant admitting he'd screwed up to the man who didn't understand or accept screw-ups. He'd spent the majority of his life trying to prove himself, but for what?

“I wanted to make you proud, Dad. But it was like no matter what I did, you didn't notice. It took me way too long to figure out I should be making myself proud. All that time spent trying not to let you down and I didn't think about how I was letting myself down. I don't know if that's the point you were trying to make or if you were even trying to make a point. I just know it's time to live my life for me. Not you or Mom, or even Jace. I'm not sure what that means yet, but I'll figure it out.”

Just as the weight of twenty-seven years began to lift, he closed his eyes and saw Saralynn. They'd only dated for two months but they'd been through so much it felt longer. She hadn't said anything in the elevator, hadn't asked what would happen to them. Maybe she knew it was for the best. For both of them. He'd make a place for himself here, and she'd turn the Sinners into the top moneymaking team in the league. Jace would have to invent a new job title to promote her to. And Saralynn would find someone else. Someone who wouldn't constantly jeopardize her career. Someone who would put her first. That thought hit him like a punch. Did doing the right thing always hurt so much?

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Friday, April 25th

“Did he pout?” Saralynn took an armful of groceries from Allie and held the door open while her sister-in-law waddled inside, holding another big bag topped with two quarts of ice cream.

Allie set it on the kitchen counter and started unloading. “Yes, and it was adorable and heartbreaking. Your brother just wants to be there for you. But I explained to him that there are times when a girls' night is absolutely necessary.”

God, that was true. Madden had been for gone two weeks, every day just as excruciating as the last. Not a single call or text. It was unforgivable. She'd spent equal time crying and railing at pictures of him on her phone. It was humiliating. After a breakup, she'd never given a guy more than a day's thought. This one was burned in her heart and not leaving any time soon. “Oh good. There's wine in my bag.”

“Two bottles. In case you didn't want to share. And over here we have rocky road and mint chocolate chip as well as marshmallows, chocolate bars, and cheese puffs.”

“We will be so sick. A decent distraction tactic. You're a good sister.”

“For the record, this isn't therapist-approved. I'm not supposed to encourage you to eat your feelings, but you
might
weight 110 pounds soaking wet, have the metabolism of a cheetah, and this is your first real breakup. Exceptions can be made.”

“Then bring on the binge. Ice cream first. I'll take the rocky road.”

Allie blinked like she'd been expecting to share or maybe use bowls, but these were desperate times. “Okay. I'll take the mint chocolate chip. We're still using spoons, right?”

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