Undefeated Page 6

  Xander couldn’t bear to read any more. His skin warmed then left him with the chills. It was all too coincidental, wasn’t it? An expert from Salguod had testified at his trial regarding the dosages of steroids and its effects on athletes. Had someone there set him up? If so, to what end?

  He needed to do more research. Just how far did the Carter empire extend? What else did they own that he had involvement with?

  Most importantly, were they out to get him?

  This article called everything from the last two days into question. Here he was fresh out of the pen and sleeping in the guest house of a future multi-millionaire. That alone would have a judge raising an eyebrow when Gia filed for a restraining order. With no warning, Lady A returned for revenge, a wicked smile on her cunning face. The symphony of panic swelled until he wheezed like a choking dog. Dizziness and nausea rounded out the harmony, and a pounding headache and chills were the encore. Lady A reduced him to a cowering mess pleading for mercy with every agonizing inhale. As the chorus fizzled out, his esophagus relaxed. When he regained awareness of his surroundings, his face was inches from the ground. His torso was folded, and his head wedged between his knees. A light hand stroked his back in rhythm to a breathy, off-key lullaby.

  Lucy.

  Raising from his collapsed position, he kneaded circles into his temples. The coming conversation would be nothing short of shameful. At least he let Lucy down easy and she wouldn’t have to have a crush on him anymore.

  “Are you okay, Xander?” Her whispered words sounded too loud.

  He lifted a hand in the air as reassurance.

  “Your asthma is really bad. Don’t you have an inhaler for it? I checked your pockets, but didn’t find one. You should see Dr. Meyers tomorrow and get one if you don’t. My second cousin had asthma when we were kids, and it’s no joke.”

  Asthma? He leaned back to see her expression. She was as serious as a politician. Blondes had nothing on some brunettes. “I’ll be fine, Lucy. I need to lie down until Gia picks me up.” If she’d come back for him now that her identity was exposed.

  Lucy crossed her arms and raised her chin. “When will that be? She and I have things to discuss.”

  “Call her. I’d like to know, too.” He eased onto his hands and knees and kicked the chair away from the desk to give his legs more room as he sprawled on the hardwood floor face down. The cool surface whisked the heat from his burning skin and dulled the jackhammer in his head.

  After rapid tapping, Lucy sighed. “She wouldn’t answer a call from my mobile. Let’s see if she answers one from her own office.” Lucy punched the numbers on the desk phone and waited. “Gia, it’s Lucy. Girl, call me. I’m worried about you. I’ve dialed you a dozen times, and it keeps going to your voicemail. Call me back on my cell phone. Oh, and don’t forget to pick up Xander at your office. I had to coach him through a medical emergency, so don’t leave him dying on your office floor alone. Okay, bye.”

  The slamming of plastics against each other jolted Xander from his mental relaxation. He had to have an escape plan. Where would he run? At least, until she handed him over, he’d have food and a bed. Gia and her family were powerful enemies to have.

  Where had he gone wrong?

  A shadow covered his face. Lucy’s knees cracked as she knelt next to him and rubbed his back again. This time her hand wandered too far south for his comfort. “Should I sit with you ‘til she comes back? Or will you be okay?”

  Xander rolled to his side and swatted her roving hand. “No need to stay with me. I’ll send Gia your way when she gets here.”

  “Why don’t you come with me and eat something? It’ll make you feel better. I’ve got plenty of muffins that are allergy-free so your throat doesn’t close again.”

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.”

  “But—”

  “Lucy.” Bolting to a sitting position, Xander grabbed Lucy’s arms and moved his face close to hers, his temper one wrong word from detonating. For once, she said nothing. “I appreciate your concern and your very kind offer. I will take a raincheck for the food. After the episode I had, I feel more like vomiting than eating. And I’d hate to burden Gia with my sickness when she has this mess to deal with right now, okay?”

  Lucy’s big brown eyes never shifted from his gaze, but her ponytail bounced behind her. With a pat to her arms, he lowered himself to the floor and blocked the light with his forearm. When he didn’t hear Lucy leaving, he moved his arm to find Lucy’s lips hovering inches above his.

  He scrambled backward until he bumped the desk. She smiled and crawled toward him.

  “Lucy, whoa. You need to lea—”

  The bells on the door interrupted him.

  Chapter 6

  At a stoplight on Washington Avenue, Gia grabbed her mobile phone and powered it on. The isolation from technology had refreshed her. Minute by minute her cheerful mood returned, dissolving her earlier sense of panic. She’d secured the material lists from the developers for her other pending projects so Xander could review and improve on the items. In the world of architecture, no one liked surprises, especially not in the form of a lawsuit.

  When her phone booted up, a chime dinged once, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She almost never turned off her phone to avoid missing anything important. Today her sanity demanded it.

  Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

  Chimes overlapped each other in their insistence to be heard. The traffic light flashed green before she could see what the madness was about. She guided her car into a space in front of her office. Ten missed calls, a few emails and texts, but only one voicemail from her office.

  She pressed the phone to her ear, gasping as Lucy mentioned Xander’s medical emergency. Remorse tap-danced on her light spirit. Lucy adored being overly dramatic, but if Xander suffered because he couldn’t reach her, she would not go easy on herself. She parked the car, jogged to the front door, and yanked it open.

  Xander scooted across the floor with his palms up, shielding himself from Lucy who was crawling toward him on all fours. When the bells smacked the glass door, Lucy froze and stared at Gia, the guilt rolling off her in waves. Xander recovered first. His relief was palpable as he leaped to his feet and strode to the other side of the room well out of Lucy’s reach.

  “What’s going on? Lucy, was that some twisted way of saving Xander’s life?” Gia stepped toward Lucy, who pushed to her feet and crossed her arms with a disapproving glare.

  “Where have you been, missy? I’ve been worried to near death about you.” Lucy jabbed a finger in Gia’s direction. “I called you a million times. You disappear and don’t tell anyone where you’re going and think it’s a good idea to turn off your phone.” The dimple recessed in her cheek made an appearance when rage threatened to overtake her usually perky mood.

  Gia grabbed Lucy’s finger and moved it from in front of her face. “I needed some time to think. I didn’t realize that I required other people’s permission to have a moment to myself.” Gia turned to Xander. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded and offered her a half smile.

  Lucy clucked her tongue. “He’s not fine. He had the worst asthma attack I’ve seen since Camomile Contara in the third grade, and I own a shop that sells gluten and nuts.”

  Gia opened her mouth to probe but stopped mid-breath when Xander held out a newspaper. “This is the real reason she came,” he said.

  His tone sent spiders crawling up her spine. She grabbed the paper and scanned the front page. “Architect” and “heiress” emblazoned in the center of the page caught her eye first. When the bold headline registered, she skimmed the first column and dropped the paper. She jogged to the bathroom, her throat tightening. Joey had warned her that her cover would be blown. Hiding forever couldn’t be the answer, but blasting her name and family business all over the media wasn’t a good idea either.

  Her past caught up to her—the moment she’d been dreading for years. There was no outrunning it now. A few tears
slipped free. Her hand grasped her phone and dialed Daddy’s number, but didn’t press send. He’d probably have a security detail for her on his private jet headed to her within the hour if she asked.

  Was that the answer? It used to be. It couldn’t be anymore.

  When she finally worked up the nerve to look up, the bathroom mirror showed smudged mascara surrounding red-rimmed eyes. She wiped away the damage. Back in the front office, Xander leaned against the desk, his long form relaxed, and handed her a can of cold ginger ale. With a weak smile she pressed the can to first one burning cheek, then the other. He’d witnessed her melting down twice in one day, but he hadn’t headed for the hills. Then again, where would he go? If he had other options, he’d probably have taken them by now.

  He swung into a sitting position on the desktop. “Lucy apologized profusely for not staying. She left to close up Mother Hen for the afternoon and said she’d come stay the night with you to help keep you mentally stable. She said something about her needing you to need her.”

  Gia raised an eyebrow at the irony of Lucy keeping anyone mentally stable, eliciting a smirk from Xander. Instead of commenting, she sipped the ginger ale. “I’ll text her to decline.”

  She wanted to be alone tonight, a moment of peace before her life disintegrated in front of her. How had the media found out? Was Xander the one who’d sold her out to the press after living on her property? This wouldn’t be the first time she trusted someone who didn’t deserve it. Thus far, he’d spent the majority of his days under her supervision except the one day he took the car to Lakewood. To her knowledge, he didn’t know anyone in Golden besides Lucy. Gia trusted Xander’s silence over Lucy’s any day. Although Gia loved her friend, Lucy had the biggest mouth in town. Talking through any problems with her was equivalent to monologuing on a crowded street corner. The words “please don’t tell anyone” meant “tell everyone but tell them not to tell.”

  The best way to find out Xander’s level of trustworthiness happened to be her favorite form of therapy. Like her coach said, “If you can’t use words, find other ways to work out your issues.” He could prove that he was worthy of staying on her property and covering for her if things went south.

  She tapped out a quick text to Lucy thanking her for the offer of her company, but space would help her prepare herself for the consequences that today’s media exposure would have tomorrow. She downed the ginger ale and tossed the can into the recycling bin beside the desk. Xander stared with narrowed eyes.

  “How good are you at golf?” Gia said.

  He cocked his head. “I’m well-versed, although I wouldn’t say I excel at it. Footgolf is more my speed.”

  She spun on her heel and strode to the door. “Let’s get going.”

  After arming the security system and locking the door, Gia ducked into her car next to a silent Xander. How many synonyms of crazy had he branded her with by now? She swallowed the laugh swelling in her throat. Angry? In shock? Slightly hysterical? Definitely. Off her rocker? Absolutely not.

  When she pulled into her driveway, she shoved the gear into park. “Go change and meet me at the side door in ten minutes.”

  Xander followed her lead out of the car. “Change into what?”

  Gia kept walking assuming his question was rhetorical.

  Xander spread his arms open. “Are we going somewhere? Should I wear body armor and heavy boots? Jeans and a t-shirt? Ninja clothes? What?”

  “Regular golf clothes. Shorts and a polo will do.” Gia shut herself in her house before giving in to a fit of laughter. Maybe she was more than slightly hysterical. Fresh air was just the ticket. Once changed into her favorite golf outfit, she stuffed her hair into a bun as she strolled into the kitchen. Xander was already there filling up water bottles.

  “Good idea.” Gia took one from his hand and swallowed a mouthful of water. “Ready?” She strode toward the driveway and stopped at the door. Xander’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the island. He hadn’t budged. His furrowed brow gave him a dark look.

  She smiled. “Today was pretty awful. I need some therapy.”

  The stiffness of his posture screamed his hesitation. What was he nervous about? Being seen with her? A snarky comment poised on the tip of her tongue when, at last, his fingers loosened from the island. He sighed as he trailed her to the car.

  His reluctance gnawed at her patience. “I read you loud and clear, Reinerman. This is going to help me prepare myself for tomorrow. If swinging a club isn’t your thing, you can drive the cart.”

  On the ride to Gia’s favorite course, a Motown mix fought with the open windows to fill the lapse in conversation. Media coverage would change everything she’d worked so hard to conceal. Her connections. Her past. Her ability to secure contracts on her own merit.

  Sure, she still took a few rides on the coattails of her uncle, but she’d stepped off when she’d rebranded and left New Orleans to start over in Colorado. Her portfolio spoke for itself when it came to securing new clients. Now, she wouldn’t know if it were her work, Uncle Angelo’s renowned name, or her parents’ deep pockets that won her work. But her move to Golden wasn’t an ego trip.

  Gia waved to the course manager, Doug, who was whipping out of the parking lot on his motorized cart. He was her father’s age and easy to talk to. In Gia’s book, his wife achieved sainthood by being married to him at all, much less the forty-two years they’d celebrated in the spring. Underneath his endless sarcasm, tired jokes, and stories of the good old days, there was a friend who accepted their bond of golf as the foremost connection.

  After grabbing her bag from the trunk, she tossed it on the back of a cart and dropped into the passenger seat. Xander plopped the water bottles in the cup holders and sank into the driver’s side.

  “I only do nine if I come this late in the day. Are you playing or watching?” Her tongue traced the inside of her teeth. He wasn’t an easy man to read. If he played, she had no intention of going easy on him.

  “I’ll play.”

  Gia lifted her nose in the air. “Winner chooses dinner.”

  “Loser of each hole answers a question about his or her past.” The steel in his gaze wiped the smile off her face. “Colorado Code of Candor invoked. Candid coaches, honest architects, scouts honor and all that.”

  “Deal.”

  Without a second of hesitation, Xander stomped the pedal to the floor practically giving her whiplash as they jerked into motion. Xander grinned at her.

  The rough ride didn’t throw off her game and she finished the first hole two under par while Xander took three extra strokes on the putting green.

  She held on to the side bar as he drove them to the next tee box. “Why are you homeless in Golden?”

  Xander glanced around as if to reassure himself the trees weren’t listening. His distrust of her screamed as harshly as his earlier hesitation had. If he took issue with her, why not say it out loud? Her tolerance for his behavior reached the end of its rope. “There are no cameras or listening devices on me or stashed around this course. Relax, or you’ll be talking all night long.”

  With a chin jut to the left then right and an exaggerated shoulder shrug, Xander relaxed his posture and exhaled. “I just finished serving a five-year prison sentence. No one in my family felt compelled to give me a ride home on my release day so Tucker let me hitch a ride with him since he was headed toward Denver. Despite my calls, no one is reconnecting with me now that I’m out.”

  A criminal.

  Why hadn’t she submitted that background check form? She couldn’t be horrified. Her insistence on treating him in kind led her to this moment. Without Uncle Angelo coming for her that night, her story wouldn’t have sounded too different from his. Disgrace appeared in many styles and patterns with equal respect to all.

  Xander stepped out of the cart. Gia mirrored him. This time he went one under par to beat her. And he wasted no time in asking his question.

  “Do you have any part in your family’s bu
siness?” Xander asked.

  “Not at all.” She agreed to this game to find out his secrets, not give away hers. “I’m escaping it. I want nothing to do with that life. Architecture is my passion.”

  Tomorrow, her friends and clients in Golden would echo these same sentiments to her. Why did she come to Golden in the first place? To hide. To feel safe. Something the newspaper article had ripped away from her. They peeked behind her fortified walls and shouted to the world what they saw. They had no right to take that from her.

  She focused all her attention on her drive off the tee box. Every fear of shunning, every look of suspicion she imagined, every potential enemy who spotted her information on that front page and came after her for leverage packed more power behind her swing. The strain of her muscles soothed her agitation. Steady breaths and a tucked chin lured her into a cove of comfort. In this world, she gave or lost based on her actions and reactions. No commentator’s opinion swayed the outcome.