“Scotti,” she says, offering her hand. “I’ll be your driver while Mr. Faulker is unable to be here himself.”
Your driver?I think, as I shake her hand.
She hands me a card. I take it and look down. Heavy black stock. Embossed silver lettering. Her name SCOTTI, and phone number. That’s it, no nonsense.
Anna coughs into her hand to hide a laugh, and I simply look at her and blink once.
Lucy is already reaching up to get the handle, clearly excited to go see her school and Number 9.
Scotti beats her to it, opening it smoothly. “Watch your step, sweetheart.”
Lucy beams at her. “Thank you, Miss Scotti.”
Anna leans in toward me once we’re seated. “You should have seen your face,” she whispers, just low enough that Lucy can’t hear, then shakes in silent laughter, “You have a driver.”
I shoot her a look. “I do not have a driver.”
Anna presses her lips together, shoulders still shaking. “You absolutely do.”
I look out the window, jaw tight. This is temporary, just for tonight, not… excessive, I tell myself.Lie to myself rather, as Lucy narrates the city as we head to the arena. “That’s a bridge. That’s a taxi. That’s a dog!”
Anna grins at her like this is the greatest show she’s ever seen, and truly, she is. Lucy is happy.
That matters more than my pride, or if I’m honest, the fear of being naïve, and failing, or my success being looked upon as such, because of a man. That realization is humbling, very, very humbling.
We pull around to the back entrance of the arena, where security is standing outside the players’ entrance, and there are cameras everywhere. Scotti pulls the vehicle up to stop, and exchanges a nod with one of the guards before putting the vehicle in park and sliding out.
The door opens as I gather my things, and Lucy’s as Scotti steps back, I see him.
Tailored charcoal suit, crisp white shirt, no tie. The cut of it so precise it looks poured onto him. The kind of suit that whispers ten thousand dollars without announcing it. His thick dark brown hair is pushed back, his beard looks amazing and that smile, those eyes, that look when I climb out, lethal.
“Hi,” he says, like he didn’t plan this entrance.
Lucy launches herself forward, and he scoops her up effortlessly.
“Before we head to the ice,” he says, kissing her cheek, “let us show you where your Mommy agreed to let you go to school.”
Security scans us through, and we enter. Lucy waves at the guard as she passes like she’s hockey royalty.
Lenzin places his free hand on the small of my back, leans down, and kisses my cheek, “You look beautiful, Hildy.”
We pass players who call her name, and hold out their hands, she high-fives them.
It doesn’t stop.
“Hey, superstar.”
“Hey, Lu!”
They all know her name, and God, I love that for her, for a girl who’s been so alone for so long to be seen.
We turn down a hallway that looks less industrial, brighter, softer, and I see a sign,
Family Development Center.
Two women staff members are waiting inside the double doors, which open with the slide of a card.Security.
One kneels immediately. “Lucy? We’ve heard so much about you.”
