A wave of nausea overtook him with the blunt description of the choice he’d faced.
“My point is,” Ian went on, unaware, “parents and kids look up to you.”
Alex’s mind immediately went to Jake in the wheelchair.
“I believe you can change lives by allowing people to see you then and now. So what if you were knocked down? You got back up, right?” Ian shrugged and slugged down the end of his drink.
“I get it but—”
“I heard how you charmed the kid in the hotel,” Ian said. “Madison told Riley you called your publicist and had them send you a picture and a jersey with your number on it so you could personally sign and send them to a teenager in a wheelchair.”
Alex swallowed hard and looked away. He didn’t do those things for acknowledgment.
“Imagine the good you can do for other players and injured kids whose coaches are pressuring them to play or to sign pro before they graduate college. You’re a role model, if you want to be.” Ian slammed his glass on the table. “By the way, nobody said it’s full time or nothing on our end. Let me know if you want to take the TV gig, and we can make this work too.”
“I don’t know what to say.” This wasn’t the Ian Dare that Alex hadn’t gotten to know for all those years. This was a different man. One who was treating him with respect. Almost like a family member.
Ian rose. He slid his hand into his pocket, but Alex shook his head.
“That’s twice. Next one’s on me then,” Ian insisted.
“Quit counting.”
“If we’re through here, I am going to get home to my wife.”
“You’re assuming Madison’s finished with her.”
“I’m picking Riley up on my way home.” Ian grinned. “She’s finished when I say she is.”
Alex rose to his feet. He’d already given his credit card, so their tab was settled. “I’m going to head to my place. I think Madison and I could use some space from each other. She needs to get her head on straight and decide what she wants. This push-pull is killing me,” he muttered.
“She can’t help it. And until she can, you need to decide if you can stick it out with her, because I can tell you that if you bail this time, you’re not going to get another shot.”
His gut cramped at the thought. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere. Just giving her a night to think. Tomorrow’s the hearing about her foster mother’s care and holdings. I’ll be there.”
Ian nodded. “We all do what we have to do. Riley came around,” he said, his expression suddenly showing the pain he’d been through during that time. Just as quickly, he regained his usual stoic composure. “Keep me posted on things.”
“Will do.”
“And if you want to run things by someone…” He left the rest unsaid, but Alex heard the unspoken offer.
“I just might do that,” he said, grateful he’d been given a shot at something more than working for his half brother.
Now if Madison would just give him the same opening, maybe he could prove himself worthy of her trust as well.
* * *
Madison hadn’t slept well, not that she’d expected to. She’d grown accustomed to Alex and his big body huddled around hers. Whether in her queen-sized bed or his king, they slept wrapped together. Yet she understood his need for a night apart. In truth, she’d needed it too. But last night, alone in her empty bed, she’d tossed and turned. Unfortunately, she couldn’t resolve anything in her mind, not when so much in Alex’s life was open-ended and uncertain. As far as she was concerned, right now it wasn’t about trust, it was about facts and seeing how things played out for him. And where.
The trust thing she would have to come to terms with later.
This morning, she needed to focus on the hearing ahead of her. Alex called and insisted he’d pick her up. Not wanting to face this alone and grateful for his support, she agreed to wait for him to get her.
He rang the bell before she could grab her purse and meet him at the car, pulling her in for a kiss before either of them could speak. It didn’t matter where they differed, right now they were a united front, and for that she was grateful.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked as they walked toward the courtroom.
She nodded. “I have nothing to hide.”
He held open the heavy wooden door to the courtroom, and she stepped inside. He clasped her hand on the walk down the aisle. Eric and his attorney hadn’t yet arrived, but Jonathan waited for her at the table. Alex took a seat directly behind her.
He squeezed her shoulder just as Eric and his attorney walked in. She had to give it to her foster brother, he cleaned up well, wearing a gray pinstriped suit and red tie. He might have passed for a banker, the way he’d slicked his hair back and held himself with an air of authority and confidence. But it was the Visine bottle he pulled out of his jacket pocket so he could add drops to his eyes that gave him away, at least in Madison’s mind.
“Remember,” Jonathan said, redirecting her attention. “When you’re up there, you answer only if his attorney asks you a direct question. Inflammatory upsetting statements? Ignore them,” he instructed her in a lawyerly voice, but his eyes held a glint of empathy. He’d seen her history. They both knew today wouldn’t be pretty.
The only good thing was that Alex hadn’t been with her when she and Jonathan had gone over testimony. Jonathan had wanted her alone and able to concentrate on his instructions, and she’d been grateful. A part of her wished Alex wasn’t here today, but there was no stopping him, and she hadn’t bothered to try.
She glanced toward the other table, where Eric and his attorney sat conferring the same way Madison and Jonathan just had. Eric glanced up, met her gaze, and shot her a direct glare mere seconds before the judge and his court clerk and deputy walked into the room. The next minutes passed in a blur of formalities handled by the lawyers.
Of course it was up to her foster brother to prove his case, which meant he paraded witnesses attesting to his close relationship with his mother, his stellar character—before he began an attempt to assassinate hers.
People Madison hadn’t seen in years came before the judge. Her first foster mother claimed she’d stolen personal things from the house and she’d had to send Madison back. More like she’d pawned the items in an attempt to pay for the alcohol addiction she hid from her husband and the state. Even at twelve years old, Madison had been familiar with the signs. From there, her case worker from years ago, aged and gray now, took the stand, elaborating reasons Madison hadn’t lasted at each foster home.