It’s just a fact.
“Should we get something to eat?” Sophie motions to the rows of tables draped in white linen cloths and layered with so much decadent food that you’d think this was a presidential reunion. It was an outright buffet with everything from ribeye and lobster on one end, to cheesecakes and tiramisus on the other.
“If you want something, I’m happy to walk over there, but it’s a little early for me.” I don’t tell her that my stomach is a pit of nerves. Over the last few hours, I’ve somehow become personally invested in the outcome of this event. I couldn't care less about these high-society dinners, but thinking of Rocco cheating on Sophie brought me back to a place I swore I’d never return to. Ever since this morning when I opened up to her about my ex, the memories of feeling as if my heart was being ripped out of my chest had come flooding back in nearlyoverwhelming ways. And the hard part is, when I went through my healing journey, I did it privately on the ice, but poor Sophie had everything aired out in the public eye. I can’t imagine how she can be in the same room with him and holding her head so high. She sure is strong, and it makes me so proud of her.
My gaze snakes its way over to the corner. It’s clear by the way Rocco has a woman practically crawling up his sleeve that he’s doing it intentionally to make Sophie jealous. My bottom lip rolls in as I attempt not to look in his direction.I can’t stand a cheater.“Maybe later then.” She pivots, scanning the room, and motions to the other side. “Should we check out the silent auction?”
“That sounds wonderful.” I’m eager to have something to focus on to avoid the people gawking at us, and we cut clear across the room to the tables in the back. I point to the homemade baskets of goodies. “It’s not a silent auction without the desserts.”
“Right?” She laughs airily, and we both slowly pace along the rows. “I’d like to find something to bid on to help out, but I can’t do all the calories.”
“It looks like they have art further down, and I see some pottery and things . . .” My voice drops off as I pick up a picture frame with Sophie’s photo. “Look at this. It’s a framed list of a prize package that includes a photo and lunch with you. Did you know about this?”
She waves her hand dismissively. “I do that every year as my donation. My manager always submits it, so I haven’t even thought about it.” She leans over on one foot, reading the bidding log. “What in the world?” Her words fog together while her feathered brow hikes. “What does Rocco think he’s doing?” She jabs her perfectly manicured finger on the paper. “Rocco bid on it. That can’t happen. I’ll file a restraining order before I let him win this.”
“Is that a joke?” I narrow my gaze, hyper-focusing on the names, and sure enough, the name on the bottom is Rocco Bella with a bid for a thousand dollars. I grab the pen and scribble my name below his, upping the bid to two thousand. I don’t have an extra two grand lying around as I’m still paying off my stupid student loans, but there’s no way I’m letting that creep win a date with Sophie. Not after what he did to her.
“You don’t have to do that.” She grabs my arm, gently guiding me away from the table. “I didn’t mean to make a big deal about that. I’m sure someone else would have outbid him.”
“He’s a creep to even put you in that situation after what he did to you.” I grind my back molars and glare at him. This time I don’t mind one bit if he catches me looking at him. He should just bring it.
Sophie must feel the tension shifting, because she tries to bring my focus back to the auction. “Oh, look, a Tiffany necklace.” She scoots in front of the silver chain. “I can bid on—” Her voice drops off and I already know why.
Rocco strides right up to her photo-and-a-date item and proceeds to upbid me. Blood bubbles in my veins, starting at the tips of my fingers, and I flex my fingers out before rolling them into a fist. The bubbles continue up my arm, pumping adrenaline into my chest, and anger ignites. I draw in a deep slow breath. Sophie must sense it because she places a cautionary hand on my arm. “He’s not worth it.”
“There’s no way he should even be allowed to talk to you, let alone bid on that.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t actually want to go. It’s more just his way to show who’s boss. He’s rich and can show off by outbidding you and everyone else. Please, don’t add another bid. I can find a way to have him disqualified.”
“I’ll disqualify him right here.” My fists tighten, while my nostrils flare. He may be in the NFL, but he’s about to meet hisworst nightmare. Sophie may not be my girlfriend, but she is my date. I brought her here tonight, and as long as she’s with me, I will protect her.
“Excuse me, sir.” A lady, wearing a white tuxedo shirt and black slacks slides in front of Rocco. “This auction doesn’t allow for dual bids. You get one chance to vote, and if someone upbids you, you’re done. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to move on to other items.”
Blinking hard to avoid laughing, I turn to Sophie, and she too is rolling her lips in. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispers, pulling me far away from the auction tables. “That was too close for me. You almost put a fist through his face.”
I wasn’t laughing anymore.
She’s right.
I didn’t lose my temper, but I was fully ready to disqualify him in my way. With all the cameras already on us tonight, that is not the kind of PR either of us need. My anger is still running high, I’m not going to let Rocco ruin our night. I jerk a thumb over my shoulder back to the food. “Don’t you want something to eat before we leave?”
“You know . . .” Her shoulders rise and fall, bringing her eyelids down a notch, too. “I’m more tired than I thought I would be. This week has been draining.” She tosses a glance over her shoulder back to the food tables and the still-growing crowd of people. “We made our public appearance, and I want to leave.”
“Are you sure?” I give her the once over, seeing how her updo is still perfectly in place, and her dress—man, can this girl wear a dress—is ready for a full night out. She must have spent hours getting ready. I don’t want to be the reason she goes home early. “I promise not to punch anyone.”
“I think we can quit while we are ahead.”
“I’m sorry if you think I screwed this up.” I lower my tone, and we both start to pace toward the exit. “If you want me to leave,and you can stay, I will. We just walked in the door. I hate for you to miss the eventyoucoordinated.”
“It’s fine.” Her eyes seem weary when they wash over my face, but I don’t buy that as the sole reason she’s ready to leave. We didn’t even eat dinner.
She’s disappointed in me.
We didn’t even make it fifteen minutes, and I was about to lose control of my actions. Coach is right about my temper. Maybe this is something I do need to work on. Being raised in a hockey rink, aggression was encouraged. I don’t remember when I started to let it blend into the rest of my life, but it needs to stop. I trail behind her several long steps as my shame hangs heavy in my chest. We make it back to our suites, and she enters first, not looking back at me, before I step forward to follow, but something catches my eye.
A paparazzi is standing with his phone camera posed, and it appears he got something on camera. Probably us not acting like a couple, as I wasn’t even walking next to Sophie. “Hey,” I growl. “Who do you work for?”
“Celebrity Sightings,” he quips, tucking his phone into his coat pocket while he takes long strides backwards. Clearly, this isn’t his first rodeo, and he’s prepared to flee to keep his footage.
