Dylan traced the outline of her lips with her finger. “He’s got nice eyes. They’re brown, right?”
“Hazel with specks of gold.”
“Yeah, I thought so.” Dylan grabbed an orange stick and scraped off her janky red nail polish. “You said he likes Rory, right?”
A moment later Rory dashed into the bathroom, tail wagging. “He loves him.” Tyler smiled at her dog. “Hi, buddy.” She turned to Dylan. “He’s looking for c-o-o-k-i-e-s.”
“What’s the problem?” Dylan sounded frustrated.
Tyler rolled her eyes in the mirror. “Other than being the most famous rock star in the world? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t heard from him.”
“He asked you to text him.”
“Which I did.”
“Yeah, you sent a house emoji with a thumbs-up sign.” Dylan spun the toilet paper roll. “Nice going.”
“He sent a thumbs-up back.”
That damn emoji had haunted her for weeks. Why didn’t she text him,I’m home! Thanks for an amazing night!Because she was an idiot when it came to men.
Like, the worst of all time.
“What was he supposed to do?” Dylan picked up Rory and held him on her lap. “You didn’t leave an opening for him to follow up with you.”
“Please. He dates models and actresses, not music managers.” Tyler had done her homework. GooglingCary Kingston + girlfriendhad nearly given her a heart attack. The list of women he’d dated was extensive. “Emma Turner? He’s obviously shallow.” She spoke in a drawl. “Emma’s the belle of the ball.”
“Cary writes love songs, Tyler.”
“Correction. Heusedto write love songs.” She raised an eyebrow, not sure where her sister was going. “What’s your point?”
“He’s a romantic at heart.” Dylan covered Rory’s ears. “He didn’t make that shit up just to sell records.”
She scoffed. “He’s a musician, Dylan.”
“Watch it. Mom married one, and he’s our father.”
An hour later Tyler arrived at the arena and headed straight to the private suite level. True North Sports and Entertainment, the Winnipeg Jets organization, was providing SDM with exclusive use of their house suite, and she wasn’t about to waste it. Her job came with all kinds of perks, but this was by far the greatest.
As she stepped into the suite, her mouth went dry—like she’d downed a bag of pretzels and chased it with saltines. Cary was somewhere in the building, and the thought alone had her nerves on high alert.
I need a drink.
She opened the bar fridge and grabbed a beer—Blue Moon, always her favorite. Twisting off the cap, she took a long gulp, the crisp citrus bite cooling her nerves as she swallowed.
The suite door swung open and a young woman with a jaunty ponytail stepped inside, expertly balancing a large tray of cheese and crackers on her shoulder.
“Hi, I’m Jessica. I’ll be your server.” She set down the tray next to a plate of cold cuts.
“Tyler,” she said, introducing herself. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’ll get you a glass and an orange for that right away.”
She inspected her bottle and nodded. “Thank you.”
“I . . . I heard this was Cary Kingston’s suite?” the server stuttered.
She scanned Jessica from head to toe. “For tonight it is.”
