Game Changer Read online

  “Well, shit,” he said, plopping down on the floor of the elevator—again, like a child. How could he be so calm when we were stuck in a damn floating box? “This sucks. While we’re here, you gonna tell me why you have your panties all in a wad again today? You were on cloud fucking nine this morning.”

  “Long story,” I said, leaning my head back against the wall and wishing I were home playing Seven. Who said men weren’t nostalgic—even a little. The daydream seemed to calm my nerves a bit.

  “Well, considering we’re stuck in a five-by-five box that ain’t moving, I’ve got time.”

  And, of course, my best friend had to remind me of the small confines that was now my own personal hell. Wiping my brow, I tried to clear my throat, the feeling of it closing in as well completely overwhelming me. “Could you stop reminding me of how small this space is?”

  “Why?” he asked. “You got a problem with being trapped in here?”

  Pulling at the collar of my shirt, I braced myself against the wall, trying desperately not to start banging on the door and screaming for help. “Why do you think I love driving the Jeep around? It’s open—no walls or ceiling—perfect for a claustrophobic spaz like me.” I could hear my breathing increase and imagined the air supply dwindling to nothing within a matter of minutes in such tight quarters.

  “Shit, I had no idea. Anything I can do?” He actually sounded a bit sympathetic, like he knew poking fun or antagonizing me would only worsen the situation.

  “Let’s just talk about anything but where we’re at right now,” I said, panting, as I slid down the wall to my ass. “God, I knew I should’ve taken the stairs.”

  “Okay, stop whining. So what up with the chick—what’s her name?” he asked, sliding a tad closer to me and making me tense up even more with his close proximity. Thank cripes the emergency lights were casting a dim glow around the enclosed space. Hearing him move without seeing him would just heighten my fears to the nth degree.

  “Maci,” I breathed.

  “Yeah, that’s it. So what’s up with Maci?” Thad repeated, his stare boring into me as if he felt the need to figure me out.

  “She broke my DS,” I blurted out. It was the only truly negative thing I could think about her that didn’t involve a long, drawn-out explanation.

  “Holy fuck! And you’re still on speaking terms with her? I’d lose my shit! Those things don’t have external memory. All your shit is lost, right?” He was babbling. Believe it or not, it was actually calming me a bit.

  “I actually let it slide. I really only played on it to kill time. Not like it’s one of my main gaming systems,” I justified. It was true though. I really didn’t care too much. “But then I screwed up today.”

  Taking a deep breath, I told Thad the whole story—how everything went down earlier. It really did calm my nerves and, at one point, I’d totally forgotten I was confined in a small space.

  “Well, fuck. Are you worried she is on Big Jim’s side? What if she’s some sort of spy or some shit?” Thad said, his extraordinary imagination taking over and consuming the entire situation with humor.

  “Nah, she hates his guts. I can tell by how she talks about him. But she pretended not to know the fucker when we ran into him at the gala. That’s what confuses the hell out of me. Why hide that shit?” Tingles went down my spine as I ran my fingers through my hair, my hand coming back damp with sweat. “I’m gonna be a fucking puddle on this floor if they don’t get us out soon.”

  “You’ll be fine, just calm your shit. This thing has air vents.” Thad sat next to me, his arms dangling over his knees and his head bowed slightly. “So, the girl of your dreams might be related to your mortal enemy. Dude, that sucks.”

  “Tell me about it.” I glanced at the time on my phone for the umpteenth time. “We’ve been in here for damn near an hour now.”

  Just as I made that nerve-wracking realization, the lights came back on, causing us both to squint, while the elevator came to life and began to move.

  “Oh, thank Christ!” I exclaimed, standing on shaky legs as I nearly lunged for the doors, hoping they’d open any second now.

  “Well, guess you got out of that damn meeting—again. You must have a secret superpower of averting the important shit,” Thad said, standing next to me, almost as eager as I was to get out of this godforsaken box.

  I leapt through the doors as soon as they slid open wide enough for my body to fit through, the rush of cold air an amazing feeling against my clammy skin. I finally felt free, at least until I collided with one of the receptionists in my haste to escape. Papers flew everywhere when we both crashed to the floor.

  Fuck this day. I was going home—and taking the stairs from now on.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Maci: The Phantom

  My heart rate increased each time the phone rang. It was the only sensation that kept me believing I was still alive, because the look on Liam’s face as he walked away from me earlier today was enough to kill a girl. He looked so gutted—so hurt—even though he tried his damnedest to mask the pain.

  Of course, I had every right to be pissed at him, but at the same time, I had to think about how hard it must’ve been for him to see me there with Big Jim. Correction… not with… I definitely wasn’t there with the man. But unfortunately, I couldn’t tell him to take a hike.

  Sam’s voicemail picking up had me pressing the end button and throwing the phone on my bed as if it were on fire. Where was the woman when I needed to talk to her?

  I didn’t know what the hell to say to the man. I wanted to call him, see him, talk to him… something. But words failed me, and I desperately wanted to talk to my friend first. Maybe she’d be able to tell me what the hell to do.

  Words. All I needed were words. If I couldn’t speak them out loud, I could write them. Maybe? Sure. I mean, I was an author—putting words on a screen was my specialty.

  Pulling my laptop from my bag, I plopped down on the bed, mean machine in tow, and huffed out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding.

  “Here goes nothing,” I muttered.

  From: Maci

  To: Liam

  Date: Tuesday, June 24, 6:12 PM

  Subject: Apology…

  Liam —

  I don’t feel like I need to apologize for standing up for myself, but I am sorry for how I treated you.

  …

  Scratch that. Selecting the text, I pounded once on the delete button. Starting out with such a negative tone was not what I wanted. Repositioning myself with my computer on my lap, I huffed a strand of hair from my face and started over.

  From: Maci

  To: Liam

  Date: Tuesday, June 24, 6:12 PM

  Subject: Apology…

  Liam —

  I don’t really know what to say right now other than I’m sorry for blowing up in your face. When I saw you there with Jim’s hands on you, I nearly lost it. I didn’t want to drag you into my personal problems, so I kept it from you, and for that, I’m sorry.

  …

  Pressing the delete button over and over and over again, the action making a rapid clicking noise, I erased the whole email. It sounded so stupid, so heartless. There was absolutely no feeling in my words. I didn’t want this to be a simple apology letter. Instead, I needed my voice to be heard through the electronic communication—I needed him to feel my apology, not just see it written in black and white.

  Instead of pouring my heart out in a stupid email, I decided I just needed to get his attention. And then, it hit me…

  From: Maci

  To: Liam

  Date: Tuesday, June 24, 6:12 PM

  Subject: I remember…

  Liam —

  In sleep he sang to me

  In dreams he came

  That voice which calls to me and speaks my name

  And do I dream again for now I find

  The Phantom of the Opera is there

  Inside my mind

  — Maci
r />   Before I could chicken out, I pressed the send button, the sound of the flying email whooshing away, causing my stomach to flutter. I could only hope my words would be well received.

  Making me jump nearly three feet in the air, my phone began to buzz next to me. I suddenly felt a huge lump take up residence in my throat as I thought it was Liam responding so quickly to my mercy email. Sighing with relief, I was pleased to see it was just Sam.

  “Samantha,” I answered. Not giving her any time to speak, I continued to rant. “You should know by now that you have to be available on call every moment of every single fucking day of your life, just in case I have a goddamn meltdown.”

  “Well, hello to you too,” she responded, chuckling a bit at my outburst. “So, what happened, crazy lady?”

  “Liam happened. I can’t believe I listened to you about letting my guard own and going out with the man. Everything is now so fucked up.” Of course, accusing someone else of my inability to date normally was the only way I’d make sense of this situation.

  “Oh, Lord. What did you do?” she asked, her tone becoming heavier and more serious, dashed with a pinch of pity for me.

  “Wait. Why do you automatically think it’s something I did?” She probably knew I was stalling, but I couldn’t help myself.

  “Spit it out, Maci.”

  “Ugh, fine.” Flipping onto my back, my hair splayed over the bedspread like a colorful curtain, I spilled the entire story to my friend.

  Just as I got to the part about the email, she asked, “Well, did he respond?”

  I was so busy telling her about all that was messed up in my world, I forgot to keep an eagle eye on the damn laptop. All the blood rushed from my head as I sat up too quickly, the lightheaded feeling disorienting me for a moment before I finally focused on the screen.

  “Holy shit, he did respond,” I said in a near whisper.

  “Well? What’s it say?”

  “Says for me to meet him at Ramon’s tomorrow morning at ten. Shit. I have that meeting with you and Camille. Fuck.” Rubbing my temples, I searched my brain for an answer. I wanted to hash shit out with Liam, but I couldn’t blow off an important meeting. We were scheduled to discuss the publication dates and cover for the novel I finished just a few weeks ago. “What’s happened to me? Normally, work would always come first. But my fucked-up girly brain actually wants to meet with a guy instead of dealing with my work obligations. This shit is changing me.”

  “Ha! You like him!” Sam exclaimed, causing me to pull the phone away and wince at the volume of her words. “In all seriousness though, he’s your game changer. Don’t worry about us. I’ll tell Camille you’re sick.”

  “Absolutely not. I’ll just email him back and tell him I’m off limits till eleven.”

  “I think meeting with him is more important at this moment in time. We can reschedule the rendezvous with Camille,” she assured. The offer was tempting, but I knew work would have to come first.

  “Nope. I’m dying to see my new cover. Plus, Liam will understand.” Responding to his email, I pressed the send button and added, “Besides, it’s too late anyway. Already sent it.”

  “That’s cause you’re a stubborn pain in the ass,” she chided.

  “You still love me though,” I joked, only we both knew how serious we were. I wasn’t sure what I would do without Sam, and I knew she felt the same about me.

  “Not even one little bit,” she said back, but she couldn’t hold her laughter in, effectively catching herself in her own fib.

  “Uh huh. I’ll rap with you later. I didn’t get any writing done today and the hours are disappearing on me,” I said while glancing at the clock. “Thanks for listening to my meltdown.”

  “Anytime. Go get your slack ass to work. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  We said our goodbyes just in time for me to see another email come through from Liam, confirming eleven would work just fine.

  Now if only I could clear my mind of all this fuckery and concentrate on the project at hand.

  It wasn’t long after I sat down at my desk that I was able to submerse myself in a fictional world with Fidorah and Captain Evans. These two were becoming my life preserver when the real world threatened to drown me. I could always rely on them to speak to me, filling my mind with futuristic romances and non-stop space action, leaving little room for the crap going on with me.

  My stomach grumbling had me lifting my eyes to the clock, groaning when I saw it was nearing midnight. Did I seriously just write for damn near eight hours straight? The eleven thousand words I just wrote said so. I hadn’t buried myself in my work that hard in so long. It felt good to submerse my mind with the story and get that much done.

  Rising from my chair, I winced as my bones cracked, stretching my stiff muscles with a twist of my neck and tilt of my back. Ugh, I was lucky I didn’t fuse myself to the damn seat.

  My eyes suddenly felt heavy, tearing up as I thought of how late it had gotten. My stomach continued to protest lack of food, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep with all its bitching.

  With a sluggish gait, I dragged myself to the kitchen and grabbed a granola bar, washing it down quickly with a glass of milk.

  “There. That should shut you up long enough for me to get some sleep,” I said, clearly losing my ever-loving mind as I talked to my damn stomach.

  Foregoing all my usual hygiene practices, I didn’t waste any time hauling my happy ass to bed. And wouldn’t you know that Liam’s face popped into my head as soon as I closed my eyes, making all new flutters overtake my insides and threaten to stir up the contents I just put in.

  Who could sleep with William Allen on the brain?

  *****

  Stepping into the café, I scanned the booths for him, hoping he’d already be here. My meeting went well—very well—and the book was scheduled to release the following month. I found myself wanting to share my excitement with Liam, and then had to remind myself that he didn’t know that side of me. The most important part of my life… and he was still in the dark.

  Maybe this little chitchat today would have to be a bit more informative than I had planned. But, was I really ready to reveal such a huge secret? The real question had to be—did I know Liam well enough to share such a secret—something that could impact my entire life if it got out?

  Before I could answer my own internal questions, I spotted him. He was sitting at the table where we first met, his back to the door. He looked kind of nervous as he ran his fingers through his hair and bounced his knee frantically under the table.

  Pushing through the light crowd, I made my way toward him, worrying my fingers together as I got closer. He didn’t catch sight of me until I sat down across from him, silently hoping he’d show me those dimples I thought were so incredibly cute.

  First, he just stared at me, unblinking, as if he couldn’t form any words. Then his gaze darted to my chest before a loud, bellowing laugh escaped his lips. I’d wanted him to smile, but did he have to laugh without me knowing what was so goddamned funny? I hated personal jokes.

  “Nice shirt,” he said, managing to spit out the words between chuckles. His laughter died down a bit, but he still had a hard time keeping a straight face, those beautiful dimples peeking through the scruff on his face.

  Looking down, I reminded myself of the shirt I chose today, and laughter bubbled up in my throat as I realized the perfectness of it.

  Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them was written in kid-like letters across my chest, a stick figure of a boy getting pummeled with rocks finishing off the masterpiece.

  “Wore it just for you,” I said, lying through my teeth. I honestly didn’t mean to wear it, just tossing a random shirt on as I left in a hurry this morning. But it was a bit too flawless to not take the blame. “Speaking of shirts, why are you all dressed up?”

  Liam was sitting across from me with a pinstripe button-up shirt and black slacks—no tie or anything, but it was quite a bit dressier than
his normal weekday attire.

  “Stupid meetings this morning. Thad, my ad exec, thought it would be wise for me to wear something professional,” he said, putting air quotes around the p-word.

  I grimaced. “That sucks.”

  He only responded with a nod as Ramon came over to take our order.

  We sat, a quiet awkwardness consuming us, as we waited for our caffeine fix. We’d never been uncomfortably silent before, and the idea we couldn’t easily talk or banter with each other actually hurt my heart.

  As soon as Ramon’s barista brought our order and cleared the table next to us, I blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

  Liam’s head snapped up, his blue eyes boring into mine, a curious frown on his face. With a scrunched brow, he asked, “For what?”

  “Being so… so…” I stuttered.

  “Bitchy?” he completed.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I gave him a silent warning. “I was going to say uptight.”

  “Okay, we’ll go with your word,” he agreed, a light smile on his infuriatingly handsome face. Cocky geek was back in full force, and damn if I didn’t think it was hot. I wanted to lay into him—number one, for making me feel so out of sorts all the time, and number two, for infringing on my private life.

  Finally, I found my strength. Only, I didn’t chew him out quite like I thought I would. Instead, I spoke softly, clearly, so he’d hear every single word. “I want you to understand. That part of me, that woman who lives in that retirement home… she owns my heart. She’s my sanctuary, my rock. I’d do anything in my power to protect her. Which is why I wasn’t ready to introduce you yet. I need to do things on my own terms.”

  He nodded, his face sullen and distant, like he knew that was the insult it was meant to be. Actually, I didn’t mean it as an insult, but it was the truth. “The thing is, Liam. I probably would’ve brought you there eventually. But that’s my decision to make, not yours.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t even know what came over me. I just…” He trailed off, not finishing his sentence as he looked at anything but me. If he would just look into my eyes and speak for once, maybe we wouldn’t be constantly acting like fucking yo-yo balls, bouncing back and forth.