The errant thought has my palms and forehead sweating. I wipe the moisture away with the back of my hand.
I tamp down my feelings of rejection and clear my throat. “Someone is cooking up a storm.”
Harley jumps and whirls around. “Holy shit. I didn’t hear you sneak up on me. You move through the house as if you were a ghost. For a guy your size, that shouldn’t even be possible.”
“Between the singing and the stirring, it’s no surprise you didn’t hear me come in. It’s not like I was trying to be quiet.”
She laughs. “You’re right.” She drops the wooden spoon on the spoon rest on the oven, strolls to the other side of the kitchen, grabs the remote, and lowers the music. She turns to face me. “For a minute there, I thought I was pretending to be a contestant on a talent show. But since I can’t sing to save my life, I have to be content with being a closeted performer.”
Her playfulness unfurls the knot of dread that’s been sitting in my gut since yesterday’s fight.
I drop the champagne on the countertop and stride toward her. “For you.” I hand her the bouquet.
She frowns. “I’m confused. These are stunning, but why did you buy me flowers?”
“After bumping into my ex-wife at the Pompadour Hotel after a meeting, I thought I was going to blow a gasket, when an interesting text message landed on my phone.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Good news?”
“Fucking amazing news. And it’s all because of you.”
“Thank you, even though I don’t know what I did to deserve these beautiful yellow freesias.” She takes them from me and brings them to her nose, inhaling the scent. “I love theirsweet, fruity fragrance. I miss not being surrounded by flowers.” A veil of sadness covers her green eyes.
“Now that you’re a miracle worker, I’ll make sure my house and your office are full of flowers.”
She brushes her shoulder off with one hand. “I always knew I was capable of saintly things.” She grins. “Which miracle did I perform today?”
“I spent the last two hours with the Montana brewer who’s been ghosting me.”
Her head rears back. “He texted you?”
I nod. “Since I’ve been leaving messages with his receptionist, I didn’t recognize the number. It so happens he’s in town. I still struggle to believe I met Hoppy Joe in person. For almost seven months, not a word, and then, I get a face-to-face. And I didn’t even have to board a plane.”
She drops the bouquet of flowers on the countertop. “Oh my God, Kaz. We did it. We turned your image around.”
“The irony wasn’t lost on me that Joe texted me right after an altercation with my ex. The photos and videos of us at the rink went viral for all the right reasons. I can’t believe the insane traction, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“He shoots he scores.” And if she doesn’t do a little hockey move as if she was scoring a goal. “Take that, Devlyn.”
I chuckle. “For once, I made the headlines, and it wasn’t related to a ridiculous drama drummed up by my insufferable ex.”
“I’m so excited for you.” She jumps into my arms.
I catch her and bring her close, enveloping myself in her warmth and her lovely floral perfume. Unwilling to make the moment awkward, I pull away after a few beats.
She brushes a few strands of blonde hair that escaped from her ponytail behind her ears.
I jerk my chin toward the stove. “You do know I own several restaurants and my freezer is packed with meals prepared by my chefs. You didn’t have to cook.”
“This is the celebratory dinner, which is why I’m cooking the only meal I mastered.”
“How can it be a celebratory dinner, when I just told you about meeting Joe?”
“The video hitthree-hundred millionviews… and counting.” A giddy squeal rips through her as she does a happy dance.
“Holy shit, it exploded this afternoon.”
She nods. “I kept refreshing the page and every time, the number of views kept climbing. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Your social media also boasts some impressive numbers.”
