Arguing would only fuel her sister’s curiosity. “He’s better looking than his photos,” she conceded. “Why don’t I get you a cup of tea?”
“Thanks.” Tracy must be tired to accept the distraction so easily. “Bring up Jake’s file, too, and let’s see what needs to be done.”
Maggie had made it to the door when her sister giggled. “You should have the next meeting here, so I can see how hot Jake really is.”
Maggie didn’t dignify that comment with a response.
As she went downstairs, she wished for a fraction of Tracy’s self-confidence. Her sister’s bitter divorce from her cheating husband hadn’t slowed her down. It had made her stronger.
It was time Maggie followed her example. She’d vowed the night she left Lee to do everything she could to provide her daughter with a happy, safe and secure life. Tracy was giving her the perfect opportunity to make that happen. Maggie needed to dip into the well of strength that had helped her survive her marriage and get on with it.
Maggie made the tea, then went into the office. As she grabbed Jake’s file, a picture slid onto the desk. Those killer ice-blue eyes stared up at her. She jammed the photo back into the folder, then put a hand over her pounding heart as if she could slow its runaway pace. The last thing she wanted or needed in her life right now was a man. Least of all, Jake Badoletti.
“He’s just a client,” she told herself. “Nothing more.”
She ignored the inner voice that cackled with disbelief as she went back upstairs.
* * *
NOTHING APPEALED TO him.
Jake studied the property sheets spread across his parents’ kitchen table and sighed. He’d been excited when Maggie had emailed them ahead of their meeting. An hour later, and with Maggie due to arrive any minute, he had to admit he wasn’t jazzed about a single one.
“You don’t like these houses?” His mom gave him a glass of lemonade.
“Definitely not these tasteless monsters.” He gathered some rejected properties into a pile. “These are too modern, lack soul.” He added another group to the stack. “And these...”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this change?” she asked softly, concern in her blue eyes. “You’ve been through so much and this is such a big decision.”
“It’s because of what I went through that I want to change my life, Ma. I have to.”
She didn’t look convinced.
His cell rang, and he glanced at the caller ID but didn’t answer. The popular starlet’s persistence was beginning to tick him off.
“That hasn’t changed.” His mom smiled. “The girls still call.”
“But I don’t call them back. I told you, I’m focusing on hockey. Period.”
“You’re sure?”
“Definitely.”
“You’re a good boy, Jake. No matter what they call you.”
He was glad no one was around to see him choke at his mother’s faith in him. It proved he wasn’t beyond hope. And reinforced why he couldn’t waste this second chance.
He refocused on the property sheets. “These town houses have small yards.”
His mom added them to the no pile.
“That leaves these four. I don’t really like any of them, but Maggie won’t be impressed if I reject everything sight unseen.”
“Who’s Maggie?” His mom’s innocent expression didn’t fool him.
He kept his voice casual. “She works for that relocation agency. She’ll take me around the places I’m interested in.”
“I see.” She sighed heavily. “I’d hoped your new life would include settling down, getting married and giving me grandchildren.”
“One thing at a time, Ma.” He shook his head at her. “Remember, no distractions.”
“Since when is a nice girl a distraction?”
An image of Maggie in that mud-brown suit flitted through his mind, followed swiftly by teasing little snapshots: the momentarily hitched skirt, the undone buttons, her smooth, creamy skin. The way she nibbled her full bottom lip when she was thinking. He could swear a hint of her fragrance wafted past him.
His blood heated.
Maggie fit his mom’s idea of a nice girl. Given how many erotic dreams he’d had about Maggie since their meeting and how many times she’d popped into his thoughts, the mousy brunette was also one hell of a distraction.
“Nothing but hockey, Ma, until I win the Cup.”
“Many players have wives and families and still win the Cup.” She squeezed his hand. “You need balance in your life.”
The doorbell rang, saving him from having to reply.
He leaped to his feet. “I’ll go.”