"Well, the AP's got ahold of it. With Fuller's injury just a month shy of the postseason, his carrying you out of there has the reporters speculatin' that he'll be back on the field in no time. He's being portrayed as a hero."
"That's just great," she said, frustrated.
Damian said nothing, knowing it wasn't the best time to pat himself on the back for gaining positive media exposure at her expense.
"I need to issue a statement." She paced the floor, mentally planning her next move.
"The hell you do. You need to lay low!" Yank countered.
She strode up to her uncle, no longer the fragile, defenseless woman Damian had protected last night "I’m an adult and I’m responsible for my actions. I made this mess, I'll get myself out of it" Micki paused in thought. 'Though for the sake of the agency, I do agree I should keep my face-and twins-out of the papers."
"Attagirl," Yank said.
"After I issue some sort of explanation."
Damian admired her guts. Not many men he knew would willingly get into the old man's face. Their family dynamic obviously consisted of love and respect, both things Damian had grown up with and appreciated.
"I hate to take sides-" Damian began.
“Then don't," Micki said.
"Unless it's mine," Yank added.
Damian suppressed a grin. "I think your uncle's got a point. You ought to take time off before going back to New York or issuing any kind of statement. By then the media will have found other bait"
She pursed those lips he wanted to kiss again.
"I don't run away from problems," she insisted.
"But like you said, it's in the best interest of the agency.” Yank was obviously hitting on the one thing he thought would change her mind. "And Sophie said to remind you that anything you say will only come out sounding defensive, so take a breath and suck this one up."
Micki shook her head, her displeasure apparent "I want everyone to know that the Hot Zone publicists don't run away. That'll kill our business for sure." Shoulders back, chin at a determined tilt, she stomped away from her uncle. She headed for the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
Yank turned toward Damian. The lines around his eyes seemed more pronounced, his expression more concerned than he'd let on in front of his niece. "She'll calm down. Now tell me how the press knew where the team was hanging out."
The same question had been lingering in the back of Damian's mind since he'd seen the photograph. "The paparazzi knows which clubs the Renegades frequent. Lacie's isn't one of them. I have no idea how they found out."
But Damian's mind was already working all the angles and possibilities. Who besides his teammates knew about their spur-of-the-moment decision to hit Lacie's? There were the cab drivers and any waiters and waitresses from the hotel bar who'd beard them talking, but a trip to Lacie's wasn't much of a scoop and so Damian couldn't fathom anyone having any interest in calling the press. There was no money to be made in a story about where the team, was going clubbing.
Unless the person who’d leaked the information hadn't want the money but rather the possibility of an ugly expose-but still, there had been no guarantee they would even have a story to tell.
Damian shook his head. Who had an agenda? There was Carter, who'd spiked Micki's drink and hated Damian's guts, and Carole, who was probably pissed off enough at Damian to want to cause trouble. But those two had been together and had probably been keeping each other too busy to think about Damian, at least until this morning. He didn't discount them completely but he didn't want to give Yank an unfounded target for his anger.
Damian glanced at the older man and shrugged. "I can't imagine who'd snitch."
Yank snorted. "Micki needs to get away until this blows over," he said, his mind shifting gears.
On this Damian agreed. "Got any ideas?"
The other man rubbed his hand over his wiry beard. "She won't go willingly which means she'll need someone to take her away in secret." He pinned Damian with a determined gaze. "And you can't play ball anyway."
"Thanks for reminding me."
"Yeah well, it's true. That wrist needs some rest"
"I still need to be with the team," Damian countered.
"Under ordinary circumstances, you would. But this ain't ordinary. You need to take care of Micki. You also need to have that wrist looked at by the best.So I covered your ass at the camp today. I had Sophie tell Gordon and Coach Donovan you were seeing a rehab specialist privately so you could return sooner than anticipated. That's true by the way. I found some hotshot who'll fly in tomorrow and take a look. I already put your test results in his hands."
Damian wasn't sure whether to thank Yank for me help and the positive spin with the team, or to strangle him for interfering and dragging him further into Micki's life.
"No thanks necessary," Yank said. "I was just doing my job. Now you're going to do yours. You got that big resort off the Florida Keys courtesy of that twenty-million-dollar contract I negotiated for you. I suggest you use it to help my niece get some R & R."
Take Micki to his island retreat? "Give me a break."
"The guys told me how you goaded Micki, telling her you couldn't see her hanging out at a strip club"
"I still can't." But he knew Yank was baiting him and as Damian waited for the old man to reel him in, he stiffened, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Yank cleared his throat, "Well, any idiot would know my Micki's pride would push her to do exactly what you insinuated she couldn't do. Add to that you played on her weakness." Yank poked him in the chest accusingly.
Damian frowned at that accusation. "What weakness? What the hell are you talking about?" he asked.
But even as he spoke, Micki's self-deprecating words came back to him. Good old Micki, one of the guys, she'd said. And how had he replied? If you say so.
"Holy hell." How had his life gotten so complicated in less than twenty-four hours?
"I see you get it now." Yank nodded, pleased.
And Damian resigned himself to the inevitable. "I have a full staff on the island. They'll take good care of her."
"You’ll take good care of her. No way will you dump her on the island and take off. You understand?"
Damian understood all right. Him, Micki, a luxurious house, a staff, a beach and time alone. He was so screwed.
"I'll tell her you arranged for your private plane to take her back to New York. You can deal with her from there." Yank let out a laugh. "I don't envy you when she realizes she's been had, but I'm sure it'll build you some character."
“I didn't know I needed any." Damian shoved his hands into his jeans pocket.
Just then, Micki walked out of the bathroom, her face freshly washed and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She'd put on sweats in addition to the large shirt he'd chosen last night but her eyes were still glassy and red.
"I want to go home " she said. 'I promise to lay low once I’m there. There's a difference between running away and being cautious about the agency's reputation."
"We were just discussing that," Damian said.
"I'm not in any shape to argue with you two-?”.
"And we're not going to fight you. You obviously know what's best" Damian hated lying to her, especially when he'd be the one to face her anger later, but Yank counted on him to get her away from emotional harm. He only hoped she'd thank him and not throttle him when they reached his island retreat.
He sighed. He'd bought the place for himself and had never before taken a woman there. He didn't have a good feeling about doing so now.
Yank glanced around the hotel room he'd booked for the night. Sophie would be staying next door, probably so she could keep an ear out for him. But he couldn't be pissed. Sophie was a good girl. When she'd gotten the call about her sister being in trouble, she'd contacted him and they'd hightailed it to Florida pronto. Yank was proud of the girls and how they stuck together.