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“Not brave,” Maggie said. “Desperate.”
“What makes you think Will’s mama will side with you?” Hana asked.
“Well, firstly there’s the fact that I always got the feeling she was bored senseless by baseball, though she was, of course, far too polite to ever say so. And secondly, she needs Will to be running their empire now that her husband is dead. I can’t imagine she wants him turning his attention to baseball when he should be making sure she continues to have the lifestyle she’s so used to.”
“Perhaps,” Shelly said. “But the few times I’ve met her, she’s come across as the complete doting mother. Will’s her only child. I doubt she’s told him no many times in his life.”
Maggie nodded. “Maybe. But that’s where you two come in. Will’s been trying to play dirty. He has to be behind all those nasty little stories that have been popping up in the news about Alex and Mal and Lucas, though we haven’t been able to pin him to anything yet.”
“You want us to try and find out who he’s feeding information to or where he’s getting his information from?” Hana asked.
“No. I want you to find out what skeletons are in his closet. Will Sutter is arrogant and just a tad slimy. I’m guessing he’s pushed his luck a bit too far a time or two. I went through his HR records from when he worked for us but there’s nothing. But I can’t believe he’s completely clean. I’m going to go talk to Ally Kaminski—she was head of HR back then—and see if there were ever any complaints, but I need whatever I can get my hands on. Drinking. Drugs. Jaywalking. And, in particular, any evidence that his dad and his doting mama hushed it all up nicely.”
“You want dirt,” Shelly said with a grin.
“I want a little persuasion,” Maggie corrected. “If Mama doesn’t want to listen to reason, then I want to make sure that I’ve got some facts on my side that might persuade her otherwise.”
“Hardball,” Hana said admiringly.
“Yes,” Maggie said. “Will is messing with the Saints, and I’ve had about all I can take of people trying to rearrange my life to suit themselves in the last few week. Team Sutter is going down.”
“Well, then,” Shelly said. “Let’s start digging.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Alex asked.
Maggie looked down at the boarding pass in her hand. Dallas, Texas. Home of Corinne Sutter. Who had, somewhat to Maggie’s surprise, agreed to a meeting.
Maybe it was a terrible idea. Maybe Mama Sutter would send her home with her tail between her legs. Maggie hoped not. She and Shelly and Hana had worked their butts off for almost twenty-four hours straight. And then she’d dragged Gardner into the mix for the next twenty-four. All that digging had paid off.
This might be their last shot. The vote was still too close to call and Will’s campaign had continued relentlessly over the last two days. So she might as well swing for the fences. “I’m sure. Someone’s gotta run into the burning building, right?”
His hand tightened around hers. “Is that why you’re doing this? To prove something to me?”
“No, I’m doing it to save the Saints, idiot.” She smiled up at him, swallowing against the lump in her throat. Now was not the time to lose her cool. “So smile for the cameras and kiss me good-bye.”
That got her a dimple flash. And another all too short and tantalizing kiss.
She tried not to think about how much she was going to hate it when the press went away and Alex stopped faking it, and headed for the security line.
Mama Sutter didn’t believe in simple living, that much was clear. Maggie stared at a house that was fit for Scarlett O’Hara—huge and white with a colonnaded front porch that possibly would have fit Maggie’s entire apartment underneath it—and took a last moment to go over her plan. She needed her wits about her. Mama might play the perfect groomed and subservient business wife and mother, but Maggie knew that was rarely how things worked. This woman had a network of influence and control that probably covered half the country. Which was exactly why Maggie needed to convince her to get Will to give up on his bid. She only hoped that coming here wasn’t going to backfire.
A young girl with blond hair ruthlessly pulled back into a roll at the back of her head and a conservative gray suit showed her into the house and into a sitting room done in shades of cream and yellow and pale green. Maggie remained on her feet while she waited for Mama to arrive. It didn’t take long. The sound of tapping heels preceded her, as did two Afghan hounds groomed to within an inch of their lives. The dogs sniffed briefly at Maggie and then went and sat on one of the Turkish rugs nearest the window, curling themselves up into large balls, both of them keeping their eyes on the doorway.
Apparently even the dogs behaved themselves properly in Mama’s house. Pity her son didn’t.
Finally the footsteps halted and Mama appeared in the doorway. She was tiny, maybe five foot four in three-inch heels, but she was so well put together in a beautiful pale blue dress and pearls that Maggie started to feel distinctly rumpled.
Eyes the same odd pale blue as Will’s studied her, seemingly cataloguing every wrinkle in her suit and stray hair. “Miss Jameson, welcome to Dallas.”
Maggie fought the urge to curtsy. “Thank you, Mrs. Sutter. And thank you for seeing me.”
“I will confess, I was a little surprised when you called. I understood from William that you had turned down his offer of employment.”
She’d never heard a Texan accent sound quite so cold before. She’d met Corinne a time or two when she’d been a teenager, but she didn’t remember her being this intimidating. Obviously Maggie hadn’t been in her bad books back then. “Yes, ma’am, I did.”
“Then perhaps you’ll enlighten me as to what it is you wish to discuss? Won’t you sit? Would you like a drink? Iced tea perhaps?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.” Maggie sat in one of the delicate-legged armchairs closest to her, putting her bag at her feet.
