Her clipped response surprised me. Something was deeply wrong, but my phone rang, and I had to walk my executive team through the crisis-response protocol, not finishing the call until we pulled up at Cormac’s house.
She waited near the car, and I took her hand in mind, surprised to find hers shaking. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” I told her as I we entered and looked for a spot among the seats that had been set up on my team captain’s huge back lawn. This had become the location of choice for most team social events. I pointed toward two in the back, as I did not want to deal with pleasantries while I was still exhausted from the recent multi-time-zone travel and too little sleep. “Though if I could have made up a good-enough excuse to skip this wedding, I would have,” I muttered.
Zaila dropped her gaze and smoothed the silky fabric of her dress over her knees. “Marriage is a big step.”
Something in her tone niggled. “You’ll tell me what’s bothering you later, won’t you?” I asked. As much as I wanted her to talk to me, this wasn’t the time or place.
She shook her head, looking away. “I’m not sure it’s fixable.”
Or maybe it was. “Zaila…”
The music started, and Zaila turned her attention forward. I’d thought she was tired last night, but she continued to pull away from me even now, and I didn’t like it. While Lennon and Vivian exchanged their vows, I reflected on the past few days. Nothing had been right since Sweden. I’d take her back there—clear my schedule and spend a week…no, a month focused solely on her.
I startled from my planning and clapped as Lennon kissed Vivian. I turned to Zaila. “Are you upset about work? I’m certain that’s all going to be fine. The board knows the truth, and I’ll make sure everyone else does too.”
She looked past my shoulder. “No. Surprisingly, I’m not concerned about my position. Oh! Ida Jane is waving at me. She checked in with me yesterday, and I think it would be nice for me to reassure her in person.” She turned and headed toward the CATS. I followed her, but then Silas called my name.
I sighed, wishing I could ignore him, but I couldn’t, especially since we now had a gaping hole in our offense that would require careful planning to keep our players healthy for the season.
“Leon in Boston snapped up Jeff,” he said without preamble as I approached.
I nodded. “Yes, I’m not surprised. That may be the best place for him. Those two will butt heads until the team implodes.”
Silas narrowed his eyes as if considering a problem. “Yeah, probably. Leon’s a pain in the ass, too. Can’t stand the guy.”
I hated him because he’d done nothing to protect my brother all those years ago when he was the head coach for Karl’s team in Oslo—in fact, he’d riled up the players, pushing buttons and leaning into old, tired clichés about the gay community. But spilling those secrets wouldn’t bring Karl back, so I kept my mouth shut.
Silas shook his head. “The kid doesn’t take any coaching. I don’t know how he got through college with that attitude. I’m still furious his coach noted none of this. When I called him, I told him so. He said everyone expected Lars in Boston to draft him, and no one liked the guy. It was supposed to be a brilliant plan.”
My need for retribution had gummed up Jeff’s almost-certain transition to Boston. I rubbed the back of my neck. I needed to let Karl go—not the memories, but the pain surrounding his death. That was holding me back with Zaila, as well as with my hockey team. I wasn’t as clear-eyed as I needed to be because of my hatred for Lars and Leon.
“Jeff’s good, but so is everyone in this league,” I said. “Now he has to work, and he doesn’t know how.”
Silas and I continued to talk while I tracked Zaila in the crowd. She had a glass of Champagne and smiled at the CATS, who’d dragged her into their circle. I scowled as Zaila finished her glass and picked up a second from a passing waiter.
She didn’t drink; we’d discussed this before. Clearly, the situation from yesterday still bothered her. Of course it did. And that was on top of grieving both her parents’ deaths.
Fuck. Zaila was spiraling, and I’d let her. That ended now.
I excused myself and headed toward her, determined to pull her to the side and finally get her to open up, but I was waylaid for the next hour with my general manager, Pete Riggs, who pulled me into the house to discuss possible trade options that would fit our team’s mentality and needs.
I speared my fingers through my hair as I glared at him, my jaw tight. “I’m not offloading Cruz or Maxim. They’re the backbone of this team for as long as they want to play. Figure it out, but do not promise one of the guys who’s keep the team in playoff contention.”
Frustrated and starving, I headed outside just in time to hear Naomi Kramer say, “Let’s dance.”
I’d missed the food, and I’d been an inattentive date to Zaila right when she needed my full focus.
“Adam, I need those delicious hips of yours pressed against mine.” Naomi grinned at her husband.
Adam leered as he handed Luka Stol his beer. “Whatever my beautiful bride wants.”
The deejay picked an upbeat, fun song, and soon everyone was breathless and a little damp from exertion. I looked around for Zaila and saw her heading toward Vivian and Lennon.
I beelined that way as well.
“I wanted to wish you two all the best,” Zaila said as I came up next to her. She smiled at the newlyweds, but her eyes stayed haunted. “And to thank you for the invitation.” She clasped Vivian’s hand in both of hers. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you.”
I frowned as I hovered at the edge of the group. That sounded like a formal goodbye, not just an exit from the wedding.
