She said goodbye with an admonition that he’d have to try harder to take the game seriously if he wanted to attend more hockey matches. Then, she put a hand on his forearm, before exiting the car. “Next time, you’ll have to come up to my place.”
At home, as Phoenix contemplated Rina, his mind drifted to Orchid. He shook his head. If only Orchid could be as nonchalant over his injuries. . . .
CHAPTER 34
YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS
Orchid
THURSDAY DECEMBER 20
Agency holiday shindig. Just my cup of hell.
Orchid removed her faux-fur shrug to reveal a rhinestone and pleather dress with geometric cutouts at the collarbone, nape of the neck and one downward-pointing triangle just above her cleavage.
“Wh-oa,” admired her co-worker.
She dodged his undeservedly possessive hand in the small of her back, and steered towards the bartender. “Shall we get a drink?” she asked.
The media agency event filled the oak wood bar of the upscale Midtown hotel, every group speaking louder to hear the other until the whole area echoed with their din.
Burgundy-clad waitstaff squeezed between narrow alleyways of space to offer silver trays of small bites: fresh figs with a triangle of brie, curry samosas, beef Wellington in puff pastry, tuna tartare on cucumber rounds. She swiped a vegetarian mini quiche from a passing tray. Dimly lit, the bar area melded together in dark shades, neutrals and an occasional splash of holiday red of the guests’ attire.
Before Orchid could navigate a path to the guests milling around the tap, she felt the burn of familiar eyes.
“Phoenix.”
The name she’d often thought, yet had no occasion to speak, formed with reverence.
He stepped forwards, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way she loved. In her platform boots, they were nearly eye-to-eye.
“Orchid.” Her name sounded lyrical in his deep rumble.
She studied the familiar features, drinking in his refined cheekbones, chiseled jawbone and dark brows. He leaned in to brush her cheek with his lips and she caught his scent of clean soap swirled with spiced cologne.
“Hey there,” she murmured, losing herself in blue irises that had the power to transport her.
When he moved his arm to shake hands with her co-worker, she gaped at a petite woman tucked at his side. As introductions were made, jealousy replaced her delight in seeing him.What does she have that I don’t?
The pretty brunette was young,really young,barely legal to drink. She was birdlike with smooth hair slicked back into a bun. Stylish glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes narrowed as she reached out to take Orchid’s outstretched hand. “Liv,” came the clipped voice with a decided edge. A pang pierced Orchid as Liv tightened her left arm around Phoenix’s waist when they shook hands.
Phoenix looked right at her. “How’ve you been?” he asked, sounding like he really cared.
“I’m good,” she said. Her face flushed with the shame of rejection. She looked down, blinking to clear the unexpected emotion.
Politely, he turned to ask her co-worker about his position. While the minion spouted crap about the importance of his role, Orchid stared unseeing at Phoenix’s dark wool coat, draped over his left arm, trying to regain control of her emotions, praying her chin wasn’t quivering as badly as the rest of her.
“Well, happy holidays,” Phoenix said.
She looked up. “You’re doing well?” she asked, beginning a conversation even though he was ending his.
“I’m okay,” he said, radiating exuberance that comes from being in love. The thought struck her.He’s in love with Liv.
“Glad you’re well. Good, that’s good,” she replied.
“You too. Bye, Orchid.” He wrapped his arm around Liv. They made their way, slowly picking their way through the crowd.
Orchid felt discarded, deserted again, cast off like last-season’s salt-stained boots.
