“No, there’s one last thing.” Freddy cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. Gareth wasn’t surprised; the seat was intentionally uncomfortable to discourage guests from staying longer than absolutely necessary. “Lyle wants to know if Fox’s contract has been renewed yet. He can’t give precise instructions to the coach or the marketing team without knowing whether the team captain will stay with us or not.”
Gareth exhaled a gust of air as unease settled deep in his bones. He’d hoped he would be able to ignore the Fox problem a while longer. It was closely related to an entirely different, far worse problem that began withHand ended withazel. The one he’d been trying to forget for almost a decade. “The contract is being renewed, but I’m still negotiating the terms.”
A faint blush crept up Cravitz’s neck before he whispered, “Lyle said you’d say that, and I’m supposed to tell you that if thisisn’t resolved within the next two weeks, you’ll have to…expect a part of his body inside a part of yours.”
Fuck. “I’ll take care of it.”
“He wants you to call…call her today to set up a time for final negotiations.”
Great. Just what his high blood pressure needed today. At least Cravitz had learned it was better not to use her name.
Gareth ground his teeth and glanced at his cell phone clock. It was just after ten p.m. Shit. That meant Hazel was still at the office. She liked to use Fridays to catch up on all the work she hadn’t gotten to during the week. The weekend wasn’t a weekend for her if there was still a to-do list. He hated that he knew that. He hated that he could practically see her sitting at her desk wearing the glasses that she used after eight p.m., once she removed her contact lenses, which always started to sting around that time…
“Fine,” he replied curtly, rubbing his suddenly stiff neck. “Fine, fine. I’ll call her right away. Go tell Lyle.”
“Lyle has already gone home and…honestly, I was surprised to see you here today. Weren’t you supposed to meet your girlfriend for a late dinner at ten?”
Gareth’s heart skipped a beat. Oh, shit. Oh, no, no, no… He’d forgotten. God, he was a jerk! Maybe Smith was correct in his article after all.
He pulled out his phone. “Freddie, go home. I’ll take care of everything.”
“Good. Lyle wants detailed information on Fox by Monday, so…”
“Get out,” he said tersely, gesturing to the door. Freddie didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, Gareth was alone, his phone to his ear.
“Hey.” Lacey answered gently on the second ring.
“Hi, Lacey, I’m sorry, I’m still at work, I lost track of time,” he confessed with a sigh, running his hand through his close-cropped hair.
“Oh, no problem. I thought so! I know it’s always stressful for you before the season starts.”
Before the season starts, during the season, after the season ends…
“I’m still sorry.”
“I know. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks. I need to make one last call, and then I could be on my way, but…” He hesitated.
“It’s getting late, Gareth. I’m not a night owl like you. Besides, my flight is early tomorrow morning. Let’s just postpone it until next Friday. I’ll be back then. Really, it’s no problem. You can get some rest.”
He sighed with relief. “Okay. That sounds good.” They exchanged two more minutes of small talk before finally hanging up.
Without Gareth feeling guilty, without anyone getting angry.
That was why she was the perfect woman, and they were in the perfect relationship! They’d been together for six months, and everything was still…easy. They didn’t argue. They gave each other space. They didn’t expect too much from each other. They enjoyed spending time together, but if something came up, neither of them made a fuss. Lacey was kind, smart, elegant, educated, a successful opera singer, beautiful, and on the go. She didn’t judge his busy schedule. Lacey didn’t need emotional displays or constant attention. Everything about her was nice and simple.
God, he wished everyone were as easygoing as she was.
His phone vibrated and he glanced at the screen.
Of course we have a wedding present, dingleberry, came the sweet reply from Connor.I wanted to give a voucher for a freedivorce, but Cian says that would be too macabre. Although they couldn’t get better divorce lawyers than us.
Cian’s simple comment followed promptly:You two are miserable romantic illiterates. I bought the present, but I’m not going to bother describing what it is. You don’t care anyway.
The guy knew them well.
Thanks, Gareth typed back before pressing his thumb and index finger to his eyes and taking a deep breath to mentally prepare for the next phone call.
