That damn car, Rory thought, placing her forehead on his cold wrist. Guess the car service hadn’t included checking the brakes. The car was a write-off, Rory had been told by the paramedics; it was their opinion that he’d been lucky to escape alive.
Rory shuddered. Troy was her best friend and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. And speaking of people who were important to her, where the hell was Mac? She’d risked using her cell in the ICU and left two brief, urgent, desperate messages on his cell for him to call her but he’d yet to respond. Why not? Why was he ignoring her? What had changed?
Sure she’d seen him dancing with that blonde but that didn’t worry her. Anyone with a brain in her head would’ve noticed that it had been the blonde making all the moves. Mac had been supremely disinterested. In fact, despite the devastating news she’d just received about Troy—one of the nurses in the ER had texted her as soon as he was rushed in—she’d immediately noticed Mac looked distracted, worried. His eyes were bleak and that telltale muscle in his jaw was jumping.
Was this what their life would be like going forward, Rory wondered? Her being pushed down his priority list because there was something more important he needed to do, somewhere more interesting he needed to be? Could she cope with playing second fiddle to his career, his friends, his teammates? She’d done that with her father and she’d hated every moment.
She couldn’t do that, not again. She loved Mac with everything she had but she wouldn’t sacrifice herself for him, for any man. She didn’t expect him to jump hurdles when she asked for any little thing, but Troy’s critical condition was pretty mammoth. She had a right to ask Mac for his emotional support, to be there for her. At the very least, he could reply to her damn messages!
Damn, life had been so uncomplicated when she’d been unattached. Boring, but simple.
* * *
Mac, sitting on the couch in Kade’s office, propped his feet onto the coffee table and stared at the massive photograph on Kade’s wall. It was of the team, naturally, minutes after the final whistle of the Stanley Cup Final. He and Quinn and Kade had their arms around each other, all of them wearing face-splitting grins. Would he ever be that happy again, Mac wondered?
“How long are you going to sit over there and stare moodily at my wall?” Kade asked, replacing the handset of his desk phone into its cradle. “’Cause I’ve got to tell you, it’s getting old.”
Mac lifted a lazy middle finger and kept staring at the photograph. “That was a really good day at the office.”
Kade’s eyes flicked to the photograph. “It was. Now are you going to sit here and reminisce about the past or are you going to tell me what’s got your lacy panties in a twist?”
Mac pulled a face. Over the past four days he’d been avoiding his friends to spend his days on his balcony staring out at the view, and he was, frankly, tired of himself and his woe-is-me attitude.
Rory and he were kaput. Admittedly, she had left two messages on his voice mail the night she bolted from the bar, which he’d ignored. Really, what was there to say? She either trusted him or she didn’t, and it was clear that she didn’t.
There was no point in discussing the issue.
Game over. Move on.
“Anymore news from the Bayliss camp?” Mac asked, dropping his feet to the floor and reaching for the bottle of water he’d placed on the coffee table.
Kade leaned back in his chair. “I’m expecting to see the first draft of an agreement today.”
Even if Mac wasn’t part of the day-to-day equation he’d be a part owner, and he was glad to see progress. At least with Kade and Quinn at the helm the Mavericks would have a good chance of keeping their identity. “That’s good news.”
Kade shrugged. “We’ll see what the document contains. I know that Wren, the granddaughter and a PR specialist, has some strong ideas about what she wants to happen with the franchise.”
Mac rubbed his jaw, thick with stubble. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m part of those franchise plans.”
Kade frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you hear what Bayliss said the other night?” When Kade shook his head, Mac explained, “He noticed that my arm was weak and expressed doubts as to whether I would still have a place on the Mavericks next season.”
Kade narrowed his eyes. “That will never be his decision to make.” His eyes radiated hot frustration even though his voice was calm. “He’s providing marketing and merchandising opportunities, access to bigger sponsorship deals, connections. He will not be allowed to interfere with the team and its selection.”