Shark face: FML.
I smile at his response but don’t bother replying. He gets paid good money to always think with my best interest in mind, so I’m not too concerned that he would intentionally lead me astray. I walk over to my dresser and open the top drawer where I store all my hockey keepsakes. The drawer is practically overflowing with awards, trophies, and medals. Some are silly from grade school days, and others are official National League memorabilia.
It’s difficult to fathom leaving behind something that has been such a huge part of your life, especially when that something runs in your blood. Maybe it’s stupid to think I can replace playing hockey with owning a whole ass hockey given the two are not even remotely the same in practice or theory, but I want it.
And, if I’m completely honest with myself, I want Cassidy, too.
She’d crossed my mind for obvious reasons in the most recent past, especially since she seemed to insert her brat self into my space at every turn.
But now…now that I’ve gotten close enough to truly see her. To smell her, to taste her; to look into her eyes and see my own desperation reflected back at me. Well, there’s no way I can go back to the way things were. Not a chance in hell I can pretendthatdidn’t happen.
I slide the drawer shut, resting my hands on top of the dresser as I look up, catching my reflection in the mirror on the wall. I sigh deeply, shaking my head at myself, knowing I have very little choice in the matter. “Fuck it.”
I pick up my phone and open the unknown message string without any hesitation.
Ren: Deal.
5
A CASE OF LEGALITIES
CASSIDY
The exhilarationthat went down my spine at the acceptance of our deal was interlaced with fear and anxiety.
Part of me didn’t believe he would accept. I was fully prepared to go to plan B or even plan C to persuade him to go along with it, so his acceptance on my first attempt has me rather suspicious.
Which is kind of amusing given the fact that I broke into his apartment, propositioned him, and then allowed him to goad me into screwing him. Don’t get me wrong, I use the term allowed him loosely.
And of course, my response to his deal was an excruciatingly awkward thumbs up. Because nothing screams ‘thank God, I’m so excited’ like a thumbs up emoji.
And that left me with the quandary of being the last one to reply. Wanting to get all the details sorted was killing me, but I also didn't want to immediately begin to nag for fear he’d change his mind. Having him change his mind and then having to go to a contingency plan would be a little awkward.
Apparently, awkward is my baseline.
Fortunately, I got to breathe another sigh of relief when the very next day he called me to coordinate a meeting with lawyers to go over the terms of our deal. His annoyance that I didn’t have a trustworthy counsel who didn’t work for my father was laughable. Even more laughable is that when he asked me if I trusted him to find one for me, I readily agreed. Because even if he is a scoundrel, Ren Rafferty isn’t a dirty, rotten liar.
I was only slightly annoyed when this agreement turned into me having to fly to LA. I don’t know what I thought about our overall timeline between making the deal and having the wedding, but apparently Ren wants it done and dusted in record time.
And now, here I am, barely a week later, sitting in the opulent waiting room of some big wig, high powered LA attorney. A rather attractive middle-aged woman wearing what appeared to be very expensive workout gear told me to have a seat and someone would be with me shortly. That was more than shortly ago, but since she had then quickly disappeared, there isn’t anyone for me to follow up with.
I’m just getting my phone out of my purse to send Ren a text when a large door on the other side of the room swings open. I turn my attention toward it to find the lady from reception in the doorway. She smiles warmly, her hand raising and beckoning me closer as she says, “Ms. Logan, please, right this way.”
Slightly confused, I rise from my chair and slowly make my way toward her. As soon as I’m within a few feet of her she turns and enters the room, so I follow along, having little other choice. We enter a large office made up predominantly of dark wood and deep red leather. Frowning, I curse myself for not getting more information from Ren on who I’m meeting because if he got me a male lawyer I’m going to be annoyed.
The receptionist doesn’t stop by the chairs in front of the desk as I thought she would. Instead, she walks around behind the desk and turns to face me besides the executive chair. Then she motions toward the seating in front of her as she says, “Please, have a seat.”
I hesitate slightly and then shrug as I close the distance and seat myself on the chair closest to me. Then I ask, “Do I have the wrong day?”
The woman squints slightly and then shakes her head. “No. Why do you ask?”
I glance around the room to see if I’m missing another person. Then I turn my attention back to her and say, “Is there a lawyer type going to show up?”
Now the woman frowns and also looks around the room. Then she glances down at herself and laughs before looking back at me. “Pardon my less than professional appearance, but I can assure you that I am definitely a lawyer type.”
The confusion on my face must be evident because she waits a beat and then adds, “Did Rennick not tell you anything about me?”
I shake my head. “No, he gave me an address and a time to be there.”
