I hear him before I see him. He comes around the car a second later. He must have been sitting in Ty’s passenger seat listening to everything. Ty takes a subtle step to his left, to block my direct path to Larue.
“You should have waited in the car, Larue,” Ty turns and says. “Just hear him out, Avery.”
Larue ignores him and keeps his focus on me. Tension rolls up my limbs and through my body. I’m taut and ready to fight.
“Avery, she was crying. Over you,” Alex continues, and raises his hands like he’s surrendering. “She was drunk and emotional, and she just burst into tears and didn’t stop until she fell asleep. And she fell asleep on me. Not because she wanted to but because she was a drunk mess.”
I don’t say anything at first. I glance at Ty, who is staring back at me with no readable expression. He’s clearly the ref here, not taking sides, just keeping an eye out for illegal hits or unsportsmanlike conduct.
“You’ve been crowing for weeks you want her,” I spit out.
“Yeah. And I do,” Alex replies easily and with confidence. His light eyes become softer, though, and the hard edge to his words fades. “But she wants you, buddy. Even though neither of you seems to know how to be in a relationship, she wants one with you. Not me. And last night she felt like she was rejected. And she was beyond drunk, so I was a friend to her—and to you. If I’d left her, she’d probably have choked on her own vomit.”
“Gross,” Ty groans.
I just stare at Larue wordlessly. The realization that I think he’s telling the truth starts to create a swirling cauldron of regret in my stomach.
“But you’re actually second-guessing this, aren’t you? That’s why you were so quick to believe she’d screw me behind your back. Because you’re still thinking about your goddamn image, aren’t you?” Larue questions. “You’re looking for reasons to leave her.”
I move my sunglasses from on top of my head to my face to hide my guilty eyes. Ty glances from Larue to me. I turn to Ty and mumble, “I need to get home.”
I walk by Alex, and he reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “I’m not going to touch her,” he promises quietly.
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t think we’ll work it out,” I mutter, and the realization is like touching a frozen metal pole with your tongue. It’s a mistake and now I’m stuck and I can’t fix this without more damage.
Alex nods and shrugs. “I’m still not going to touch her.”
He reaches out and claps me on the back as he gives me a hug and I give him one back. I’m still not happy at what I saw last night in her bedroom, but once again the real person I’m angry with is myself.
Chapter 35
Stephanie
I keep my head down as I step off the elevator and into the lobby of my office. I spent the whole ride over here praying that none of them know. That somehow there isn’t one hockey fan in the building, or that if there is, they only check scores and no one stumbles across one of the fifty articles about Avery Westwood and his ex-druggie girlfriend. But that hope is dashed as soon as I pass the receptionist, Letitia.
“Stephanie?” Letitia says quietly, and I pause and pull my eyes off the dark marble floor. She’s wearing an expression of discomfort on her pretty features. “Mr. Archer needs you to go straight to the boardroom.”
“He’s here?” I check my watch. “But he usually only comes in at nine.”
Holy crap, did I miss an early conference call with a client or something? Letitia’s gaze drifts. She starts shuffling some papers in front of her and with every ruffle of paper another bird of doom seems to soar around my gut. “He’s here. In the conference room. And he needs you to meet him.”
She’s clearly not going to tell me anything more, so I just thank her and make my way left to the conference room instead of right to my desk. Through the glass wall as I approach I see two other people in the room with Mr. Archer. A woman I don’t recognize and Dan. I push open the door and step inside.
“Mr. Archer? You needed to see me?” I question, exuding confidence in my tone and smile. But on the inside I’m a quivering mess.
His eyes dart to Dan and then the lady sitting at the head of the table, and he doesn’t do his usual “call me Conrad” line. Instead he nods sharply and clears his throat before motioning to a chair. “Yes, Ms. Deveau. Please have a seat.”
I do what he says, even though I don’t want to. Sitting makes me feel instantly weak and small, like a child in the principal’s office. But I do it, so I don’t seem contrary. I nervously smooth my skirt with my hands and perch on the chair.
“Stephanie…” He pauses. “I understand that you…may be having some personal problems?”
My eyes dart swiftly from Dan to Mr. Archer to the unnamed woman in the chair. When my eyes land on her, she seems to startle. “Oh. I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself. I’m Camille Leeds from Human Resources.”
She extends her hand, leaning over the conference table toward me, and I take it. Her fingers are bony and cold. I glance up at Mr. Archer, who’s still waiting for an answer. I swallow and struggle to craft one in my head. “No, sir. I’m fine. I won’t let anything interfere with my job.”
He looks at Daniel and then down at Camille, like he’s silently asking for help. Dan is busy examining his fingernails, but Camille jumps in. She looks at her clipboard of papers in front of her. “Stephanie. The news reports about you have come to our attention.”
“They’re gossip pieces intended to create controversy about a hockey player,” I can’t help but correct her. “It’s not real journalism.”
