Libby noticed Liam watching the interaction, his eyes tracking Middleton's hand on hers with unmistakable intensity.
"I have an interview with ESPN next week," Libby said flatly, pulling her hand away. "Senior analyst position. In Bristol."
The table went silent.
"What?" Linda's voice reached a pitch that could shatter glass. "ESPN? My daughter? Robert, did you know about this?"
"It's just an interview," Libby said, but she was watching Liam's face—genuine surprise, then something that looked like pride, then an expression that disappeared too quickly to identify.
"That's incredible," Liam said quietly. "When did this happen?"
"Friday afternoon," Libby admitted. "Got a call from their Boston office."
"ESPN?" Calvin's voice cracked slightly. "The Bristol headquarters?"
"ESPN interviews don't typically convert to offers," Mary said, still scrolling on her tablet. "Their hire rate for external candidates is under twelve percent." She paused. "Though women in sports journalism do better if they're established before thirty. After that, pregnancy timing becomes a significant variable in career trajectory."
"Mary!" Linda gasped. “She’s not pregnant!”
"What? It's just data. Though if she marries someone with Liam's financial profile, the pregnancy penalty really would be negligible.”
The front door slammed open with dramatic force.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Lydia appeared in a whirlwind of shopping bags and energy. "But the most AMAZING thing just happened with my new partnership!"
"You're forty minutes late," Jane pointed out.
"I know, but I've been on calls all afternoon with this hockey player who's going to transform my brand. Gray Wickham from Portland—he has like 200K followers and he wants to collaborate!" She finally noticed Liam and her eyes lit up with calculated interest. "Oh my God, you're Liam D'Arcy! Gray told me all about you two."
Libby felt her blood go cold. Gray Wickham. The name hit her like a slap. She'd never mentioned him to Lydia—never had reason to. Her mind raced: was this revenge for the press conference? A coincidence? Or had he targeted Lydia specifically because of the connection?
Liam's expression didn't change. "Did he."
"He said you were best friends in juniors! Until you got him traded because he was too much competition." Lydia slid into her chair, her eyes sharp despite her bubbly delivery. "But I'm sure there are two sides to every story."
"Lydia," Libby said slowly, trying to keep her voice neutral while her thoughts spiraled, "when did you start working with Gray Wickham?"
"Like three days ago! He slid into my DMs after that viral video from your press conference. But he'd been watching my stories for weeks apparently—went back and liked posts from like two months ago. Said he'd been 'studying my content strategy' and once he started watching my workout reels he couldn't stop." She let out a cheeky giggle. "Look, he's been commenting on everything. My engagement is insane."
The timing couldn't be coincidental. But Lydia seemed fine—annoying and vapid as always, not manipulated or hurt. Yet.Under the table, Libby found Liam's hand, interlacing their fingers. His grip tightened slightly.
"We were teammates," Liam said evenly. "Briefly."
"That's not how Gray tells it." Lydia was serving herself salad while still scrolling. "He says you two were inseparable until your daddy had to step in. Something about protecting the family investment?" She looked up with faux innocence. "But I'm sure he's just misremembering."
"How generous of him to share his perspective," Liam said, his tone so controlled it could have cut glass.
"He's actually been super helpful with my brand strategy. Says with his connections, I could get sponsorships from all the major athletic brands. He's already talking to his agent about getting me in on some of his deals." Lydia showed her phone to the table. "Look at these numbers—fifty thousand new followers in three days!"
"That's not even fair," Kitty said, her voice tight with envy. "I've been posting consistently for two years and I'm still at eight thousand."
"Quality over quantity, Kitty," Lydia said sweetly. "Gray says my content has that special something."
Beside her, Liam was ice forming on still water—perfect surface, dangerous underneath.
"He says he might be able to get me invited to team events and afterparties when the season starts again. My followers would literally die. Can you imagine? VIP access to where the players actually hang out?"
"Portland's season is over," Jane said gently.
