Winner Takes All Page 6

  “I didn’t think I’d drunk that much. My bad.” Brian sent a sly glance to Patrick but continued to address Jean. “Are you still working, or is this a playdate?”

  “I invited Jean out to watch a taping,” Patrick said, looking at the time. “And I need to get ready. We’re on in fifteen.”

  “Right. I’ll take Jean to the set, get her a prime seat where she can see everything. Lynn is waiting for you in makeup.”

  Patrick exchanged a look of regret with Jean at both interruptions. His silent expression to Brian said more as the producer led Jean away. Like… Don’t even go there.

  The darkened space of the set hid the smile of wonder fixed to Jean’s lips. Watching Patrick interact with his fellow commentators, playing to the cameras, was so strange. He was on, a persona she was unfamiliar with. Somehow his broadcast presence seemed out of character, but also so natural. The other co-hosts were also bright, good-looking former jocks who each brought their own perspectives and personalities to the program. But the only person Jean was interested in was Patrick.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Every now and then, she imagined he focused his attention in her direction but was pretty sure that he couldn’t see much of anything beyond the bright set lights. His attempt to silently communicate as she tried to process the call he’d received just before Brian arrived was still with her. Jean couldn’t shake the feeling that the caller was female. Colleague? Former flame? Current one?

  There were timed breaks for commercials, but the three men on the set stayed in place, chatting among themselves, comparing notes. Brian appeared with quick instructions, or the men got updates or news on their tablets. It was very high-tech, and things moved quickly. Jean was impressed by how smartly the commentators coordinated their participation and how super quick they were with their responses and humor.

  Once or twice, there was a playful reference to Patrick’s lottery win, but Patrick never took the bait and quickly got the conversation back on point. There was no hint at all of the morning news story about Patrick and a former girlfriend and the winning lottery ticket. Jean was sure they all must have heard or read about that by now. And he’d said nothing about the problem when he’d called to invite her to his workplace.

  Jean was riveted by Patrick’s obvious knowledge of sports. Right now, it was primarily basketball, and baseball since the spring season had recently began. Football was over until training started again in the fall…along with hockey, and the trials and meets in prep for the Winter Olympics.

  Patrick was well versed in each one. He was focused, but easy and confident, and Jean especially liked his ability to make funny observations for what would be the viewing TV audience at a later time, but now causing laughter on the set. The production crew off to the sides could be heard chuckling at the verbal play among the three men.

  It was also odd for Jean to see Patrick polished and ready for prime time in a suit and tie. He looked like a youthful CEO, a lawyer, or hot director of something or other. Corporate, but not officious. It was another aspect of Patrick being grown-up that was very appealing…and very sexy. That attraction was most definitely pulling her in, as her mind replayed their parting kiss a week ago. She wanted a replay. Like his show title.

  “What do you think? Does our resident millionaire have a future in broadcast?” Brian stage-whispered close to her ear during one of the breaks.

  “I think he’s very good.”

  Brian smiled ruefully at her response. “Yeah, he’s very good. And he’s popular. To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t announced that he’s leaving.”

  Jean turned to stare at Brian. “Why would he do that?”

  Brian chortled. “Are you serious? He has seventy-five million reasons not to have to work anywhere ever again.”

  He studied her silently for such a long moment that Jean became uncomfortable. “What are you thinking?” she asked, trying to keep her tone merely curious.

  His smile did nothing to make her feel that this was an inconsequential conversation. “I’m thinking you and I might yet have a…er…conversation.”

  “About what?”

  “Getting to know one another.”

  “You’re a friend and colleague of Patrick’s. I think we know each other as well as we have to.”

  “For now,” Brian said with a suggestive grin that was hard to misinterpret. “Don’t shoot me down so fast. You never know.”

  Jean grew instantly cautious, protective. She was struggling for a way to respond that wouldn’t put her on the defensive. But there was a bell, and the lights began to dim again in the studio. She turned to watch the camera crew take up their positions and hand signal a countdown to the start of the taping once again. She turned to Brian to find that he was back in his work state of mind. She was relieved.

  “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Brian responded to a call coming through his headset and walked away abruptly. Jean ignored his innuendo about the two of them and was very taken by Brian’s speculation about Patrick possibly leaving the station. To her way of thinking, Patrick had yet to show that the lottery win had made any significant impact on his life.

  Beyond a brand-new, very expensive luxury SUV.

  Beyond whatever the morning’s news report was all about.

  When the taping was over, the studio lights came up, and the magic of the set and the program vanished. Jean stood as Patrick left the set desk and headed toward her. He was intercepted by Brian, who immediately launched into a discussion. Patrick listened but never broke his stride until he reached her side.

  “That can wait until tomorrow,” Patrick said to Brian.

  “Good enough. I left the details on your desk. You can review them tonight, and we’ll go over everything tomorrow before the taping.”

  Brian turned his attention to Jean, the look in his gaze unmistakable.

  “What’s up on your agenda?”

  “I’m driving Jean back to the city with me after the next taping.”

  Brian was, if nothing else, charming and persistent. He carefully took Jean’s hand and, ignoring Patrick, kissed the back of it. Then, with a little tilt of his head to her, he began backing away.

  “I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

  Jean said nothing but forced a smile in return before facing Patrick.

  “I think he likes you,” he said sarcastically.

  “Brian seems nice enough. I think he just needs clear boundaries, otherwise…”

  “Otherwise?”

  “He assumes his friendly personality and good looks will take him anywhere and get him anything he wants.”

  “Or anyone. He’s been pretty successful so far.”

  Jean blinked, focusing on Patrick as he silently looked down at her, waiting. Suddenly it came to her that Patrick was not just being protective or merely proprietary because of their history. His skepticism of Brian’s interest in her might very well be because he saw Brian as competition.

  “Not with me.”

  Patrick’s squared his shoulders, his gray eyes bright with satisfaction.

  “We have a little time before the next taping. Let’s go back to my office.”

  “Have you had time to think about the money you’ve won? Do you have plans? Or have you spent it all?” she teased, prepared to be shut down again.

  Patrick didn’t answer right away. He didn’t take the seat again behind his desk, but sat on the edge of the desk next to Jean. His outstretched leg was casually pressed against her knee. She, at least, was very aware of the contact and the instant reaction she had to his touch.

  “I’ve been trying not to think about it. But it’s pretty clear now that I’m going to need some professional advice on how to manage that much money. Remember when a million dollars was a big deal? Now it’s chump chang
e. Seventy-five million is… I still can’t get my head around it,” he murmured. “I mean, one day, my biggest concern is can I afford to fly my sister and her family back east for our mother’s birthday. The next day, I can buy the damn plane and hire a crew. I’m starting to see that having that kind of stupid-rich money is…scary.”

  Jean was surprised by Patrick’s confession and moved by his fear and uncertainty. It was genuine and so understandable.

  “I’ve read accounts of past winners who blow through their money quickly or lose it all through bad decisions. Is that the kind of thing you’re talking about?” she asked.

  “And then some,” he murmured. “I never thought about the downside of being rich. Do rich people worry about being rich? Suddenly within days of the lottery announcement, there were all these people reaching out to me. Congratulations, that’s so cool, but can you spare a dime? There are charity requests, deals, the no-fail business opportunities. Outreach from relatives I’d never met, former school pals trying to reconnect. Friends of friends of friends. Complete strangers who tracked me down. At first I was overwhelmed.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Jean whispered.

  Patrick smiled at her, his gaze filled with warmth.

  “Jean, I don’t deserve or want sympathy. But I need a plan. Right now, I don’t have one. I don’t think my accountant is the one to direct me. I now realize that I need to be careful. I want to be smart. I’ve spoken with my lawyer. I think what I need is sound financial management advice.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. So you haven’t gone out and bought an island in the Mediterranean? Or multiple Lamborghinis in different colors?” Patrick began shaking his head, his smile widening with each ridiculous example. “You did get that one marriage proposal at the lottery broadcast. Any more of those?”

  His smile slowly faded, his brows drawing together in thought. He looked sharply at her. “A few. Unfortunately, other things are surfacing every day.”

  “Want to tell me about it? But you don’t have to,” Jean quickly added.

  Patrick glanced off in the distance for a moment, gnawing the inside of his mouth. He looked back at her. “I’m guessing you heard the story behind the lottery ticket.”

  “I know what I read this morning. I don’t know any of it to be true.”

  Patrick pursed his lips and thoughtfully smoothed down his tie. He absently ran his hands through his hair, now an endearing and familiar gesture.

  “Okay. I dated this woman a few years back. It was good for a long time, but…we had different expectations, and I finally broke it off. But I kept hearing from her every three, four months. I wouldn’t call it stalking, but it went on for a while. I think she was hoping we’d get back together.”

  “If this is too personal…”

  “It’s very much your business. Right now you’re probably the only person I really care about believing me.

  “I met her in the Hamptons. She owns a restaurant out there. It was the hot place that summer, so there were tons of people, many well-known, with summer beach homes.”

  The thing that occurred to Jean as Patrick thoughtfully recited personal history was exactly how open he was being with her. She was practically holding her breath, so caught by the trust he was giving her.

  “After the breakup, she would unexpectedly show up wherever I was, uninvited. That eventually stopped, and she started sending cards about how much she missed me. The last card I got a few months ago was for April Fools’ Day. In it, she’d placed a Mega Million lottery ticket. She wrote a message inside, a line that went, ‘If you win, you’ll owe me a big thank-you. We’ll celebrate together.’

  “And when I actually won, I felt that maybe I did owe her. But I wasn’t sure what to do. I gave the card to my attorney, and he said I didn’t owe her anything. The card and ticket were a gift. You can’t legally make demands on a gift freely given. But I felt the only way to handle it fairly was to give her something. I wouldn’t have bought a lottery ticket myself. And if she hadn’t sent me one, I wouldn’t have been in the game to win. See what I mean?”

  “Yes, I do,” Jean said.

  “Through my attorney, I suggested a settlement. Believe me, it was more money than she’d ever make running a restaurant, no matter how popular. She accepted the offer. I thought, Finally, the end.”

  “Then what about the report this morning? It didn’t sound like she’d been offered anything.”

  Patrick sighed. “Her complaint now is not really about the money. It’s about publicity. The more controversy, the more she comes across as a victim, the more people will show up at her restaurant. Curious and wanting to see the woman who got done wrong.”

  Jean watched him, seeing his confusion and annoyance and appreciating the situation. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

  The buzzing began again. Again, it was his phone. This time his response was quick and succinct.

  “Can’t talk right now. I’ll call you back.” And he hung up. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Patrick stood up abruptly. “Okay, enough. I didn’t bring you out here today to listen to my pity party. Anyway, I really don’t have anything to complain about. Brian told me recently that I live a pretty charmed existence. Maybe he’s right.”

  Jean stood as well, carefully stepping in front of him to get his attention. “Maybe he is. That doesn’t mean you give up your right to anger if you feel you’re being taken advantage of.”

  Patrick stopped fidgeting and blinked at her until he was focused on her face, with its expression of empathy and concern. He took a step closer.

  “You don’t think I’m being an ass?”

  Jean slowly shook her head. “No. I think you’re trying to be fair.”

  He studied her silently, Jean hoped reading the sincerity in her eyes.

  “Thank you,” Patrick said.

  Patrick moved to gather her against him. He hugged her close, enveloping her in an embrace while resting his chin against the side of her head. Jean instinctively wrapped her arms around him as well, and they stood like that, with no words spoken. She liked that Patrick was drawing some sort of comfort from her. She certainly was getting a lot out of his caress.

  It was a tender moment of giving and receiving, not between strangers. Jean knew that something had bonded them that had magically swept them out of their high school past and into the present moment. It was an adult moment, with grown-up emotions. She could feel the shift in herself. And she was sure she felt it coming from Patrick, his body pressed against hers, emitting a gentle heat that held them together like a sensuous glue.

  There was a sound from the back of his throat, and Jean simply waited until he moved, drew back as his chin grazed against her cheek. Effortlessly, his mouth slid into place over hers as they kissed. It began as a teasing brush of their lips. Simultaneously their lips parted and pressed together. It was so easy to ignore the twinge of doubt that had earlier bubbled up in her head with the phone call and the troubling exchange with Brian.

  This was different.

  Jean was stunned by the degree of yearning that coursed through her, swirling about her stomach and gut…and groin. But neither of them pressed any closer. Their mouths and lips did everything they needed. For now. Patrick tilted his head, his kiss growing into something more urgent, and Jean melted into it as well, aware that this was something she’d always wanted Patrick to give her. Himself. His full, undivided attention.

  Jean was faintly aware of a buzzer sounding beyond the office and spreading throughout the entire studio. Like some sort of a signal.

  Patrick leaned back, slowly separating their lips, raising his hands to cup her face and regard her as if he were seeing her for the first time and was mesmerized.

  “That’s the signal we’re wanted on the set for the taping,” he murmured, nevertheless pulling one more kiss from her with his warm mouth.
He sighed, releasing her.

  “In your words,” Patrick said softly, “to be continued?”

  Jean nodded, looking into his slumberous gaze. He’d made that a question. “Yes,” she confirmed. “To be continued.”

  Now, it was a given.

  Chapter 6

  Patrick finished reading the contract for the third time and finally signed his name to the bottom. He dropped it on the table and sat back with a sigh.

  “Done,” he announced.

  His mother appeared to peer over his shoulder at the now-signed document. She patted his shoulder. “Honey, thank you. You know you didn’t have to do a thing for me.”

  “But I wanted to. You’ve been complaining for years about redoing your kitchen and the bathroom down here.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t mean that you should be the one to pay for it, Patrick.”

  Patrick swiveled on the dining room chair and placed his arm around his mother’s waist. She accepted the hug, leaning into him for a brief exchange of affection before gently pulling herself free. “The good news is that I can now afford to pay for it. And the good news is that you’ll finally get that kitchen upgrade you’ve been wanting.”

  Ellen Bennett kissed the top of her son’s head before moving away. She picked up the multipage contract, glanced at the last page with a signature, and carefully folded the document.

  “When do you think the work will start?”

  “Well, I’m still deciding on tile colors, and I’m going to look at sinks and faucets this weekend. You know you really didn’t have to do this, Patrick.”

  Patrick stood, checking the time. “It would have been a lot simpler if you’d just let me buy you a new house, Mom.”

  She chuckled, shaking her head. “It seems to me you’re too busy trying to find ways to spend money, just because you have so much of it now. A month ago, you wouldn’t have objected to my plan of cashing in some of my bonds to pay for the renovation. They’d already reached maturity anyway.”

  Ellen turned to walk into her kitchen. Patrick followed.