Breaking South (Turner Artist Rocker #3) - Alyson Santos Page 0,53
I kind of like that he did. Would even applaud him if I wasn’t so desperate. I’m just lucky Sanderson is at his house. I vaguely remembered the players discussing an off-day last night at the club, so I was hoping.
“Right. I know. Tell him I’m here to see him, not Oliver.”
The man nods and repeats my message into the phone. His relief at the response must mirror mine when he finishes the call and hangs up.
“Go ahead,” he says with a smile, and I nod my appreciation. “Oh! Ms. Fox,” he calls as I start raising my window. Devin presses the break, and I lean toward the guard. He hesitates, and I notice the way his fingers outline a notepad in his hands.
“Would you like an autograph?” I ask gently.
He looks both guilty and excited as he nods. “I’m sorry to ask. I never do this. Out of respect for our residents and their guests, of course. It’s just…”
“It’s fine,” I say, waving him off and reaching for the paper and pen.
“My daughter is a huge fan. You should see her going around the house dancing to your songs all the time. I’d never forgive myself for not asking.”
“What’s her name?” I ask with a smile.
“Katie.”
“With an I E?”
He nods, beaming as I scribble out a quick message and shove the notepad back at him. I would have done it anyway, but being on the good side of security at Oliver’s gated community can’t hurt. Especially in light of what’s about to go down as he learns the cost of being with me.
“Thank you so much, Ms. Fox.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, signaling Devin before we lose more time. My brain is spinning, my heart racing as we pull through the gate. We park at Raffie Sanderson’s house, and I ask Devin to wait for me. I don’t expect this to take very long. Heck, I might not even make it through the front door. I can’t imagine I’m the man’s favorite person right now.
Climbing the stairs, I wonder if this is how Oliver felt the first time he came to my estate. It’s more intimidating than I realized. I’ve never had stakes like this before. Pursuing something you want instead of something you already have drastically changes the game.
Raffie opens the door, scanning me before motioning me inside. Maybe he looks angry. It’s hard to read the tough defenseman who’s known for his merciless checks and fearless on-ice demeanor. He’s a tough opponent. I’ll have to tap the strength I didn’t know I had until I ended up on his doorstep.
“Thanks for seeing me,” I say as he leads me through the hall to the living room.
“I’ll admit I’m surprised to see you. A little curious. You want something to drink?” he asks as we pass the kitchen.
“No thank you. I don’t want to take up much of your time.”
“I’m surprised a busy celebrity like you has time for this.”
“I didn’t. I canceled an important meeting to be here.”
He glances back at that, his face changing as he studies me again. Motioning toward a leather recliner, he waits while I sit, then moves a few kids’ toys to rest on the neighboring couch.
“How can I help you, Ms. Fox.”
“Please, call me Genevieve.”
He nods.
I clear my throat.
Crap. I didn’t plan this out exactly. Just because I’ve finally found something worth the pain, doesn’t mean I’ve figured out how to fight for it.
“I’m sure you’ve seen the reports about last night,” I begin awkwardly.
His fist clenches on the armrest. “You mean, the bullshit about how the most focused, selfless, hardworking guy I know is a lying playboy who likes to fuck around with Hollywood starlets? Yeah, I saw.”
I look away, swallowing my response to his harsh statement. He’s not wrong. I felt the same fire at the injustice. It’s why I’m here, isn’t it? “The coverage isn’t fair. We both know he’s not being represented accurately. Unfortunately—”
“Unfortunately, you’re not telling me anything I didn’t already know and warn him about the second he started making googly eyes at you. This is exactly what I said would happen and why I told him not to get involved with you. What do you want, Genevieve? Why are you here? You want to make sure he’s not going to open his mouth and make things worse for you? Because if you even have to ask me that, you don’t know a damn thing about him.”