I step out after I’ve exfoliated him off me, grabbing my white robe before walking into the kitchen to make myself a coffee. I stop when I see the white satin panties lying in the middle of the floor. The television still on pause from when he stormed in here. I stomp to the panties, picking them up and then stomp to the kitchen, tossing them into the garbage. “There, now I never have to see them and think of him,” I tell myself as I make a coffee, taking it with me to the bathroom where I get ready for work.
After grabbing a pair of white pants with a pleat down the front, I slip on a thin, white, long-sleeve sweater with blue lines across it. I grab a pair of blue Chucks to make it less dressy and more casual. I tuck the front of the shirt into the pants and let the sides and the back hang loose.
I walk out of the apartment and head to the elevator, my mind forcing myself not to think of him. I press the button once and then twice, and then five times trying to hurry it up.
The drive to the office is filled with music at full volume, trying to drown out my thoughts. I pull into my parking spot and notice Lexi is already here. Ready to move on with my day, I exit the elevator on our floor and walk to the brown door, opening it and stepping in.
When I got this space, it was in dire need of a makeover. A typical office with an ugly rug and white walls. It had nothing that screamed “you’re welcome here” or “this is the place that makes a difference.” I worked side by side with Ariella, who made my vision come to life.
The waiting area on the side has a long green couch with two different shades of pink pillows and two single green chairs facing the couch. In the middle of the wall, over the couch are two words: My Choice. My in gold and Choice in green. Above the words are what looks like green leaves with pink flowers covering the top half of the wall, like you stepped into a garden.
“Morning,” Lexi says from her office. “I put coffee on your desk with a cinnamon roll.”
“You are a life saver,” I tell her as I walk into my office. The L-shaped white desk is in the middle of the room with a pink plush chair behind it. Two more pink chairs are to the side of the desk. I dump my bag on the cream-colored couch that faces the desk as I walk around it and see the papers from the event in the middle, the coffee and the cinnamon bun surrounding it. “What are these?” I ask her from my office, pulling out the chair and sitting down.
“Those are for you to contact the winners of the prizes so we can get the checks.” I flip through the papers quickly, seeing Knox’s stupid name on each and every single one. I notice that he’s won at least one prize, his phone number and email beside his name.
“Well, we are definitely not going to call that one.” I pick up the coffee. “That will be an email exchange.”
thirteen
Knox
I slip on my suit jacket and pull the sleeves out, then walk to the chest and take out the cuff links that have my initials on them, slipping one in and then the other. I then put my silver Rolex on before running my hand through my hair. The nerves in my stomach are hitting at full force. It’s the season opener tonight and even though I’ve been doing this for twelve years, it always hits…that first game.
I grab my phone and head out of my bedroom, the sound from the television coming out of the family room. “Okay, I’m out,” I say to the three of them as they watch some movie.
“Okay,” Vincent replies, looking over at me, “try and score a goal tonight for me.”
I smirk at him. “Okay, I’ll try my best.”
“And for me too, Daddy, for me too.” Nora bounces up on her knees over and over. She comes to the back of the couch and looks up at me, and I bend to kiss her forehead.
“For you too,” I agree, and then look at Westley, “and for you.”
“Dad, I don’t think you can score a hat trick,” he deadpans, and I laugh at his bluntness, “but if you do, I’ll throw my hat on the ice.”
“Thanks, buddy,” I respond, turning and seeing the babysitter we’ve used since she was fifteen and is now twenty-one. “The passes for parking and the game are all in there.” I point over to the white envelope. “You can wait for me after the game if the kids are up for it. Just send me a text.”
“Will do, Knox,” she says. “Have a good game.”
I nod my head at her, turning and heading to the garage, taking off my suit jacket before getting in and tossing it to the side. I pull out of the garage, closing the door after, and head over to the coffee shop I always go to before a game. I don’t want to say I’m superstitious about certain things, but I always have the same routine. I pull up and order an iced-shaken espresso before heading to the rink.
As I drive into the garage, I pull behind a car and see Lane get out, honking my horn at him and telling him to hurry up. One of the valet kids jumps in his car to move it, and I laugh when he flips me the bird. I put my SUV in park and then open the door, stepping out. I grab my jacket, putting it on and then pulling my sleeves out before grabbing my phone, sliding it in my inside pocket and then picking up my coffee. I slam the door shut and look over at Clive, the head valet guy. “Hey,” I call, giving him a chin up, “keys are in the cupholder.”
“Have fun tonight,” he says to me, and I smirk.
I start to walk to the door and spot the media right away. “Game day,” I tell one of the cameramen, who holds up his hand to wave hello to me. I pull open the door and step in, seeing people bustling everywhere, walking in and out of different offices with papers in their hands. Last-minute things probably happening behind the scenes. I step into the locker room and see a couple of the guys have beat me here. It’s a seven o’clock game, so usually people start to trickle in around four. I look at my watch, seeing it’s four ten. Putting my coffee on the ledge with my name on it, I slide my jacket off and hang it on the hook behind my jersey. My locker area is set up the way I like it. Gloves and helmet on the first shelf, jersey in the middle on a hanger showing my number, six, and my skates tucked under the bench. I sit down and look over when Kirby walks in followed by Jaxon, both of them holding their own coffee cups in their hands and I give them a chin up before I take a sip of mine.
“How is everyone doing?” Jaxon asks after five minutes, when the majority of the players have arrived. “Is everyone having a good day?” I finish the coffee and try not to laugh at him before he says. “Opening game.” He claps his hands. “Not going to tell you guys how much it would suck to lose the first home game of a brand-new season.”
“You don’t have to tell us,” Kirby mumbles, “but you’re going to.”
“Nope,” he denies, “we know we can play a good game. Let’s just do it.”
“That’s a great pep talk.” I get up and toss away the plastic cup. “I’m going to get something to eat,” I state, walking out of the room and seeing the other team arriving. I smile at a few of them as some of them come up and we shake hands. Jaxon joins me, as does Kirby. We shoot the shit for a couple of minutes as we walk to the kitchen and grab some food, none of us saying much to each other, as we all get into the zone for the game.
Because it's opening night, it’s always a big show, with the introductions of each player. I slide my jersey on as I head to the rink to do the pregame skate. The lights in the rink are on low as we line up and some of the guys skate onto the ice. I can hear the roar of the crowd, and I smile. I grab my stick before walking down the tunnel and out to the ice. Sliding onto the ice, I do a lap around the boards in our zone and look through the crowd to spot my kids.
