by Sarina Bowen
He hated remembering this shit.
“I had bruises all over my face and a broken tooth. When I went to the gym the next day, the guys were so fucking mad. They wanted me to tell them who did it, but I was afraid to rat the guy out. So they started teaching me to fight dirty. How to stomp on feet and pull ears and knee somebody in the nuts.
“It only took about two more weeks for the bigger kids to figure out that I wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. They stole other kids’ food instead of mine. But I never stopped going to that gym. The owner gave me a job. He let me clean all the mirrors in the bathrooms, and put away all the free weights and equipment. He’d slip me a couple of dollars for a couple of hours work. This went on for a couple of years. Then, one Friday when I was fourteen, I told Pete that I wanted to play hockey, but I couldn’t because you had to have skates. On Monday afternoon, the guys gave me my first skates. They tried to say that somebody had an extra pair, but they were brand-new out of a box.” He cleared his throat. “So it wasn’t all bad, you know?”
He waited for her to say something. But maybe it would be better if she didn’t. If she fell asleep right now, she might not even remember this conversation tomorrow.
“That’s just about the shittiest childhood I’ve ever heard of,” Ari said quietly. “That’s why you don’t like to be touched.”
“Probably,” he admitted. “Spent a lot of time trying to keep other people’s hands off me. Whenever they got close enough to touch me it was never good. They’d do anything, too. No violence was too much. No line was too far to cross. Every kid there had nothing to lose.”
She slid a hand clumsily up his chest, onto his neck, cupping his jaw. “Thank you for letting me touch you. I like it a lot more than I wish I did.”
That awkward endorsement made him grin into the darkness. “Sure like touching you, baby. Don’t ever make me stop.”
“We’ll see.”
“You are a tough sell, Ariana.” He removed her hand from his face and kissed her palm. “I don’t know what I have to do to win you over. But I’m gonna keep trying. You hear me?”
She didn’t, though. Ari had finally fallen to sleep.
TWENTY-TWO
FRIDAY, MARCH 25TH
Standings: 4th Place
10 Regular Season Games Remaining
The next morning had a rough start.
Ari had woken up in Patrick’s bed with a pounding headache and a mouth the texture of old burlap. “Just kill me already,” she’d moaned into his pillow.
“How about I buy you a bagel and coffee instead?”
Later, at the rink, she gave massages to four players, including Patrick. He grinned at her every time she gave a little groan.
“I’m never drinking again,” she said more than once.
“You’re hot even when you’re hungover,” he insisted.
The liar.
Then it was time for a quick stop at home to pack for their overnight to Ottawa. She gave her house what was sadly a familiarly critical inspection when she went inside. But nothing was out of place. There was no sign of Vince, or of trouble. She threw some things into a bag and carried her portable massage table to Water Street, meeting Georgia, Leo, and the limo they’d hired to take all three of them to the airport.
“Does your head ache?” Georgia asked as they slung their bags into the trunk. “Mine is killing me.”
“We overdid it,” Ari agreed. “Thanks for helping me drown my sorrows, though,” she whispered, mindful of Leo, who had his phone pressed to his ear. “Who’s he talking to?”
“His mom. And we can’t leave for another minute, because we’re waiting for Becca.”
“Really? I didn’t know she was coming on this trip.”
“Me neither,” Georgia said, sliding onto the stretch limo’s leather seat. “But she sent me a text ninety minutes ago asking if she could bum a ride with us. So Leo upgraded the car.”
Ari patted the seat. “Nice. If my head weren’t killing me, I’d enjoy the trip.”
“Why’d you girls get so lit last night, anyway?” Leo asked, stashing his phone.
“Ari had a bad day,” Georgia explained.
“I’m here! We can leave,” Becca said, leaping into the car. She tossed her bag at their feet and slammed the car door.
Leo rapped a knuckle against the driver’s window, and it slid down. “We’re ready when you are,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
The big car glided away from the curb, and Ari pulled out her water bottle, willing herself to feel better. Flying with a hangover sounded pretty miserable. “How’s your head?” she asked Becca.
“Never better. Why?”
Georgia gave her friend a feeble smile. “Just ignore her. She’s one of those people who doesn’t get hungover. Why are you going to Ottawa with us, anyway, Bec?”
Becca blew out a breath. “Nate decided to go last minute, since he’s all stressed out about making the play-offs. And I had a total panic attack, because my sister has a midterm exam today, and I’d already told her I’d stay home with the baby. My nephew can’t go to daycare because he had a fever last night, and they make you wait twenty-four hours. Or something. I don’t know. But I was supposed to babysit, and then Nathan called and said, ‘pack a bag.’ So I did the unthinkable.”
“What’s that?” Ari asked.
“I called Queen Lauren and asked her to go to Ottawa in my place.”
“She’d never agree to that, right?” Georgia asked. “She hates traveling with the team.”
“I know, but she hates failing Nathan more. I really didn’t want to owe her a favor, because she’ll lord it over me. But I didn’t want my sister to miss her test. So I told Lauren why I was in a bind. Since Lauren is getting a business degree at night school, I knew she’d understand about the test.”
“Wait, really?” Georgia squeaked. “She’s getting a degree while she works for Nathan? Where does she find the time?”
“I know, right?” Becca shook her head and the stud in her eyebrow flashed. “She clearly is not as caught up on the trashy TV shows as we are. But she understood my issue, although her solution was not what I predicted.”
“What was it?” Georgia asked. “Let me guess—she hired some fancy nanny service to come and stay with Matthew?”
“Nope!” Becca sang. “Lauren is in my apartment right now taking care of the baby herself.”
For a couple of seconds, Ari and Georgia just stared at her. “Seriously?” Georgia’s voice had a hushed tone. “You left your nephew in the care of Queen Lauren?”
“I did. He looked very happy, though. They were cooing at each other.”
Georgia cleared her throat. “Do you have a photo? I can’t reconcile the idea of Lauren in her Chanel suit holding a drooly baby. And no offense but . . .”
“. . . He drools like a fire hose. Trust me, I know. And, yeah. I think she likes babies. After they’d bonded for a moment she looked up at me with that Lauren face and basically dismissed me.”
“Whoa,” Georgia said. “Fascinating.”
“I know! My sister is going to come home in an hour and say, ‘who the hell are you?’ So now I’ll owe Lauren and my sister. What a week.”
Leo shifted in his seat. “Nate is freaked about our play-offs chances? Great.” He thumped his head back against the wall of the car. “So am I, then. Coach switched up the lines again last night. I wondered if Nate was pressuring him.”
“Dad wouldn’t take coaching tips from Nate,” Georgia pointed out. “That’s just weird.”
“I hear you,” Becca said. “But Nate has this way of arguing a point until you’re either won over or ready to kill him.”
“Nate’s not so bad,” Georgia said. “I like the guy. I can never tell what he thinks of me, but my gut says he’s a good man.”
“He
is a good man,” Becca agreed. “As long as you like ’em wildly opinionated, stubborn as a mule, and really smug. Even as I’m saying this, I’m pretty sure I’d lay down in the road for him. The thing about Nate is that he understands where everyone’s boundaries lie. It’s like—he has godlike abilities but he understands that it’s special, and he can come down to your level and work with you anyway.”
Ari rubbed her temple, wishing she had the godlike ability to make a headache disappear. “Don’t sell yourself short, Bec. The way you handle tequila is rather extraordinary.”
“If only it were a marketable skill,” she sighed. “I could really use some extra cash right now.”
Couldn’t we all, Ari agreed privately. Maybe when her head stopped aching she would look at her schedule and try to find a sliver of time for some moonlighting.
* * *
They got to the airport in plenty of time. Some of the players were already gathered in the little waiting area in the charter terminal.
“Hey, Ari.” Patrick waved at her. “How are you?”
It was a friendly greeting, but not overly familiar. He was respectful of her need to appear professional, and she really appreciated it. “Afternoon, Patrick,” she replied. “I’d like to say that I’m fine, but my head is killing me.”
His blue eyes twinkled. “Did you go out drinking last night, Miss Bettini?”
“I did. And I learned my lesson.”
He patted his pocket. “Want an aspirin? I always carry them.”
“I have some with me,” she said. “But can I leave my carry-on with you for a second? I need to refill my water bottle.”
“Of course.”
She made a trip to the ladies’ room where she took an Advil and splashed water on her face. Tequila is not the answer, she told the tired-looking woman in the mirror. Maybe she’d get some sleep on this flight. That wouldn’t hurt.
When she came back they’d begun to board the plane. Patrick bent over and picked up her bag off the floor, tucking it over her shoulder. “All set?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” She gave him a wink. As she boarded the jet, she felt his warm gaze on her back.
The man was tempting. That was for damned sure.
Georgia waved her into a seat in the middle of the plane. Across the aisle, Castro and Becca were sitting together, laughing about something already.
“You do not have the entire play memorized,” Becca insisted.
“Do so! Since the ninth grade. I was a kick-ass Romeo. Which bit do you want to hear? I’ll prove it.”
“Fine. The balcony scene.”
“Act II, scene II.” Castro rolled his eyes. “Everyone picks that bit. I’m bored of it.”
“Maybe you don’t really know it.”
“Girl, I do! Listen.” He cleared his throat. “But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Rebecca is the sun.”
“Oh, lordy,” she said, laughing.
“Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. Be not her maid, since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it; cast it off.” He took Becca’s face in his two hands. “It is my lady, O, it is my love!”
“Wow,” Becca breathed. “You must have made all the ninth-grade girls swoon.”
“That’s right, baby.”
“Rebecca,” a stern voice cut through the silliness. All eyes lifted to find Nathan, messenger bag slung over his shoulder, eyes narrowed in irritation.
“What?” she squeaked, pulling her face out of Castro’s hands. Her cheeks were tinged with pink, probably because Nathan’s tone was so scolding.
He stared at her another moment, raising the awkwardness quotient into the stratosphere. “Bring this month’s attendance numbers back to the conference table, please. We’ll start in two minutes.” Then, finally, he moved away.
“Yikes,” Georgia said under her breath.
“What crawled up his ass and died?” Castro whispered.
Ari couldn’t help but turn around in her seat to watch him stomp down the aisle toward the back of the jet. Her gaze snagged on Patrick, who was also watching the big boss storm away from the awkward little fit he’d thrown. When Patrick turned his chin, their eyes locked.
Ouch, said his gaze.
You see why I worry? hers replied.
The flight attendant began to make security announcements. So Ari buckled her seatbelt and pulled her phone out of its pocket to shut it off. She’d avoided looking at it all day.
Seventeen. That’s how many text messages Vince had sent, asking her to call him. And that wasn’t counting the voice mails and the missed calls.
Jesus.
She shut the phone off, knowing that she really ought to tell the security team instead. The flight taxied and took off. While they were climbing to a cruising altitude, Ari searched her brain for a solution to the Vince problem. For the hundredth time, she came up short. So when the flight attendant announced that it was safe to move about the cabin, she did what she had to do.
Getting up, she walked carefully to the back of the plane. She passed Patrick in his seat, headphones on, eyes closed. He looked younger when he slept. Peaceful. It was nice to see.
She found Hugh Major in the last row, reading something on his Katt Tablet, scribbling notes on a legal pad.
“Sir?” she said. “Do you have a minute?” It really didn’t appear that he did, though.
Hugh looked up. “How can I help you, Ari?”
This was going to be incredibly embarrassing. “You said I should tell you if I had any more security issues.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I want to know.”
“Well . . .” She cleared her throat. “My ex-boyfriend is demanding access to my home, claiming he left something behind. And I really don’t like the sound of it.” She told him about Vince’s call, and everything he’d said. “I wonder if your security guys could refer me to a private investigator. My lawyer suggested it, and I didn’t want to listen. But now I think I just need to know what he’s involved me with.”
Hugh nodded. “Right. I’ve already green-lit an investigation.”
“You’ve . . . what?”
“I’ve already asked the PI we use to look into it. That picture he sent to Patrick was awfully . . .” He stroked his chin. “Personal. I decided it wasn’t going to go away on its own. So my team is looking into the perpetrator. I’ll call them when we land and see what the PI turned up. We can set up a meeting for later this week. We’ll all sit down and have a status update.”
Ari’s cheeks burned from the knowledge that the team was expending resources to investigate her ex. She could only imagine what Hugh was thinking right now. If only we hadn’t hired this chick . . . She pushed her hair out of her overheated face. “Thank you, sir. I sure am sorry that’s necessary.”
“Me, too, Ariana. It’s a shame you’re dealing with this. I wish all my team members had trouble-free lives as the play-offs approach. And yet . . .” He grinned. “I’ve been doing this twenty-five years, and haven’t had an easy season yet. You’d think I’d get used to it.”
She tried to return his smile, but the effect was probably more like a cringe. “Thank you, sir.”
“We’ll talk more after I hear from them,” he promised, pulling his work closer to him on the tray table.
Ari slunk back to her seat once more, wondering what on earth the PI would say to explain Vince’s craziness. The flight to Ottawa was only ninety minutes, and Ari dug into the duffel bag at her feet for her book. But when she lifted it out, she saw an unfamiliar glint of color there. Leaning forward, she plucked a small box, wrapped in purple paper with a white bow.
“What’s that?” Georgia asked, peering over her own book.
Inside, on a little velvet pillow, lay a green crystal pendant, roughly faceted into a cushion shape and set in a hammered silver bezel.
“Pretty!” Georgia breathed. “That’s so . . . you. Is that a note?” Her seatmate pointed at a little square of paper in the lid of the box.
Ari unfolded it to reveal a brief message. This is a peridot, and I thought it would look good on the chain you wear.—P.
“Aw,” Georgia said. “Somebody really likes you.”
“It’s awfully nice,” Ari agreed, fingering the stone. It was the size of her thumbnail. And, damn it, it was her taste—more like an earthy crystal than a flashy jewel. “He makes it hard to stay single.”
“No comment,” Georgia said, a smile in her voice. “But let’s put that on your chain, because it will look nice there. Here, turn your head. I’ll take it off you.”
Ari lifted her hair, but then dropped it again. “I can’t,” she said.
“Why not?”
She blew out a breath. “He’s great, and I really like him. And all the things he’s done for me are so sweet. But my life is a mess right now, and I’m giving him mixed signals. I have to cut that out.”
Georgia made a sad face. “I think you guys would be really great together. And I’ve never seen Doulie go after someone before. I think he really cares.”
That just made Ari squirm. “He asked you out, right?”
“Once. Barely. But I’ve never seen him like this.” Georgia tapped the box in Ari’s hand. “And forget the present. The way he looks at you is so sweet. He’s softer when you’re around. Like his rough edges are worn away.”
Last night she’d gotten a better glimpse at Patrick’s rough edges. The story of his childhood was so harrowing it had given her chills. But that just made her decision even easier. Patrick deserved someone who could love him without reservations. And she was not a good candidate for the job.