“You’re twenty-five and you spend more time monopolizing my Netflix and raiding my fridge than you do in your dorm-sized apartment,” Jude says as he turns into the parking lot attached to the Thunder Arena and waves his pass out his window in front of the automated gate. “That’s not being a grown woman, Dix. Just accept defeat and move back in with the ’rents. You can save money for a while, spend time with Dad and eat Mom’s cooking. And you’ll be within walking distance of your new nephew.”
“I’ll be twenty-six in a couple months. And shut up, jerk.”
It would be kind of cool to be just down the block from Zoey and Jude’s place, especially after the baby comes. Jude’s going to be an amazing dad—not that I’ll ever let him know. I’ll tease him relentlessly about everything he does, from diaper changes to burping, but I can’t wait to see him in action. If he loves this kid half as much as he loves Zoey, it’s the luckiest kid alive. And to be able to see my dad with his grandkid, who I know will be over at my parents’ new place every day, would be incredible.
Jude knows he’s getting to me—I can tell by the smug little smirk dancing across his annoying mouth as we get out of the car. I ignore him completely. “Remember, if anyone sees us, we carpool because I’m friends with Zoey.”
He nods dismissively. He doesn’t hate that I refuse to admit we’re related, but it’s definitely not his favorite thing. He thinks that people won’t judge me if they find out my brother is one of the star players on the team I work for, that it won’t look like nepotism. But I think it will.
Being a woman working for a pro hockey team isn’t the easiest job in the world to begin with—it’s filled with biases and people looking at you like either you don’t belong or you’re there for the wrong reasons. That’s why I love Ryanne so much. She not only owns a very successful company she built from the ground up, but she did what no woman has ever done—she bought a hockey team. She has constantly given talks about breaking down stereotypes and shattering glass ceilings. I knew from the moment I learned about her, when I was researching women CEOs for a paper in college, that I wanted to work for her somehow.
There weren’t a lot of women majoring in sports media at Ithaca and even fewer with a minor in sports management. I got a lot of misogynistic bullshit while I was there—stuff like how I was only doing it to date athletes. It didn’t help, I’m sure, that Jude was already making a name for himself in the NHL, and I happened to date a hockey player in college. Well, two actually. But two in four years hardly makes me a puck bunny. Still, I’d experienced enough double standard bullshit to know that when I applied to internships with the NHL, I should use my middle name, which also happened to be my mom’s maiden name, as a last name.
I’ve been working here for almost two years, and still the only people who know I’m Jude’s sister are the HR director and PR management. Oh, and Levi Casco. I still work extra hard just in case someone does find out.
“So you going to move in with the fam?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Maybe in the new year. Maybe. For now I need space.”
Justin Bieber blares from my cell again as if in agreement. Because the guy assigned to that ringtone is the reason I still need a place of my own right now. I can’t risk anyone finding out that we’re…doing whatever the hell it is we’re doing.
I pull my phone out of my pocket again and check the text message.
Say you’ll hang out with me this weekend after the event?
Jude walks closer, craning his neck to see my screen. In a flash I have both hands around the phone and the screen pressed into my chest. I glare at him. “I will gut you.”
He looks startled. “Okay! Jesus, Dixie, you’re wound tighter than a whore in church. What is up with you?”
“I need to get laid.” The words tumble from my lips before I realize who I am talking to. Best I can do now is try to blow this off as another attempt to annoy him and not the truth. But it is the truth. Jude gives me the typical look of disgust. “What?” I say. “Isn’t that what you’d tell one of the guys if they were bitchy? Go get laid? So I guess I need to get laid.”
“Why do you insist on breaking the boundaries that have existed for centuries between brothers and—” He stops midsentence and clears his throat. “Anyway, thanks for the baby shower ideas. I really appreciate it.”
I look up. My co-worker Trish Shaw is walking toward us. Jude noticed her in time, thankfully, and I’m sure she didn’t hear anything she shouldn’t have. I smile casually at my brother. “Glad to help. Let me know if you want any more advice. We love Zoey!”
Trish is beside us now, smiling. “Oh! You’re planning her baby shower?”
Jude nods casually. “Just asking Dix for some ideas. She knows Zoey well, and I’ve never planned something like this before.”
“We’d love to help, when you’re ready to throw it,” Trish volunteers. “Of course the Thunder girls will do something for her too. We’re so happy for you both, Jude.”
“Thanks, Trish,” Jude replies. “I’ve gotta go. Can’t be late for practice this early in the season.”
I watch him disappear through the players’ entrance. Trish and I veer right to the doors that lead to the staff side of the building. Trish started in July. I was on vacation, and when I got back she had “borrowed” my stapler, my pens and the extra phone charger I keep in my desk drawer. She apologized profusely and I acted like it was no big deal, but it made me instantly not like her, even though we have the same position and have to work pretty closely together.
She’s been nothing but a perfect co-worker ever since, and that’s why I still don’t like her. Perfect people are creepy. She reaches the door first and opens it for me, smiling brightly. I walk in and thank her, and she’s beside me again a second later. “So how well do you know Zoey Quinlin that Jude is asking for baby shower advice?”
“I’ve gotten to know her really well since they started dating,” I mutter. “I’d call her a friend.”
“We’re allowed to be friends with the wives and girlfriends?” she asks. She’s got an innocent tone, but it feels fake.
I push open one of the double doors and hold it for her as we enter the lobby where the elevators will take us up to our offices. “We work closely with them on charity events, so it’s not uncommon that we become close to them. It can actually make the job easier if they like us.”
“So we can be buddies with the wives and girlfriends but not the players?”
“We can be friends with the players. Just friends,” I remind her as we step into the elevators and she presses the button for four. The arena is state of the art and only five years old. Our offices are on the top floor of the building attached to the arena.
“It’s a good thing all the hot ones are taken.” Trish sighs and winks at me conspiratorially like we’re besties. God, it’s awkward. “If Levi Casco and Jude Braddock and Duncan Darby were single when I started working here, this job would’ve been much harder.”
