“Slow down, bud. Not everyone craves your need for speed.”
Kade slowed down from the speed of light to pretty damn fast. She’d take it, Rory decided, and loosened her hold on her seat belt.
“Right,” Mac continued. “What’s going on?”
Rory saw Kade’s broad shoulder lift and drop, taut with tension. “God, so much. First, the press, especially the sports writers, are speculating that your injury is a lot worse than we’ve been admitting to and they are looking for the angles. Speculation has been running wild.”
Rory saw a muscle jump in Mac’s cheek and she wondered what it was like to live life under a microscope.
“Widow Hasselback is also asking how you are and I heard she met with the suits from the Chenko Corporation last week. She told me they’ve increased their offer.”
Mac closed his eyes and gripped the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. His curse bounced around the car. “That’s not all,” he said.
“I wish it was,” Kade agreed. “Bayliss, our new investor, would like to watch a practice match before making a commitment.”
Mac frowned. “That wouldn’t normally be a problem. We often have people coming to watch practice, but so many of the team are still on vacation.”
“Between us, Quinn and I have reached them all. They understand what’s at stake and they’ll be there,” Kade reassured him.
Mac pulled out his cell phone and swiped his thumb across the screen. “Scheduled for when?”
Kade’s worried glance bounced off hers in the rearview mirror. “The day after tomorrow. At four.” He looked apologetic. “According to Bayliss, it’s a take-it-or-leave-it deal.”
The day. After. Tomorrow.
Rory shook her head. “Well, that’s all fine and good but you can count Mac out of that match.”
“I’m playing,” Mac said, and she immediately recognized his don’t-argue-with-me voice.
Well, this time she would out-stubborn him. Rory pulled in a breath and reminded herself to keep calm. Yelling at Mac would achieve nothing. If she wanted to win this argument she would have to sound reasonable and in control. And professional. “I admit that your arm is vastly improved and that no one, looking at you, would suspect how serious your injury actually is. But it’s not mended, and one wrong move or twist would undo all the healing you’ve done and possibly, probably, aggravate the injury further.”
“I’m fine, babe.”
“You are not fine!” Rory heard her voice rise and she deliberately toned it down. “You are not fully recovered and you certainly don’t have all your strength back. I strongly suggest, as your physiotherapist, that you sit this one out.”
Mac ignored her to nod at Kade. “I’ll be there.”
“Did you hear anything I said?” Rory demanded from the backseat, her face flushed with anger. “Do you know what you are risking? One slap shot, one bump and that’s it, career over, McCaskill!”
“Stop being dramatic, Rory,” Mac said in a hard, flat voice. “I keep telling you that I know what I am capable of and you’ve got to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“I know that you are being a friggin’ idiot!” Rory shouted.
Mac turned around and looked her in the eye. His direct gaze locked on hers and she immediately realized that nothing she could say or do would change his mind. He was playing, nearly two months after surgery. He was risking his career, all the work they’d done... Rory felt like he was tossing away all her hard work too.
“I took my vacation time to help you heal. I’ve spent hours working on you, working on getting you to where you are right now. You play and you’ve wasted my time and your money,” Rory said, her voice rising along with her anger.
“I don’t have a choice, dammit! Why can’t you understand that?” Mac yelled back. “This is about my family, my team, securing something that means more to me than anything else!”
Of course it did, Rory realized. To Mac, the Mavericks were everything. He wouldn’t change his mind or see reason. Kade and Quinn and the team would always be his top priorities. Her opinion, as his lover or his physiotherapist, didn’t really count.
She was done fighting him, done fighting this. Why did she care anyway? This was a temporary affair, a fling. He was a client. At the end of the day it was his choice whether to mess up his life or not; she had no say in it. It was his arm, his career, his future, his stupidity.
But she didn’t have to be part of it. Rory sucked in air, found none and pushed the button to open her window a crack. Cool, rain-tinged air swirled around her head and she lifted her face to cool her temper. “You do this and I’m out of here. Professionally and personally.”