“And you’re staying with him?” he reconfirmed.
“Yep. Until he kicks me out…which may be the second he finds out I told you,” I replied.
“It’ll be fine. You did the right thing,” Luc told me, and it made me feel slightly better.
I got a text from Rose around noon and she said Luc was handling it. I didn’t ask details because I didn’t want to know. It was a family matter and I trusted Luc to be able to handle it. Luc had lived with the Garrisons as a teenager so he was basically family. And I knew it would be easier for Devin if Luc helped him than his brothers Jordan and Cole. Devin, Jordan and Cole have some weird competitive vibe between them that Devin and Luc don’t.
I wave good-bye to the producer and the set designer. The sun is in the process of setting and the sky is a gorgeous golden color. I haven’t seen much of the East Coast yet but I do have to say it’s full of pretty colors. There’s vibrant fall foliage, bright blue skies, golden sunrises and kaleidoscope sunsets. It’s different, but equally beautiful, scenery-wise, as L.A. Now if only it weren’t so chilly.
All I want to do is head back to Devin’s, crawl into my bed in the guest room and sleep. I have to be back on set by eight tomorrow morning and that’s almost less than twelve hours away, but I need to fix something first.
I follow my GPS to the closest toy store. I also manage to make it to the paint store minutes before it closes for the night. I make one last stop at a sports store, knowing Devin will kick my ass for buying the poster I purchase, but it’s worth it.
Devin has a game tonight. Conner is back with Ashleigh. My credit card is in the hole for more than a hundred and fifty dollars, but if it makes that precious, blond angel smile, it’s worth it.
I lug the bags into the house and head straight to Conner’s room. As I begin to take my purchases out of the bags, I think about Ashleigh again.
She knew getting into a marriage with Devin how important kids were to him. Devin loves his family. He wanted one of his own for probably as long as I’ve known him. And I know he made that clear to Ashleigh from day one. She herself had talked about wanting a little girl next, almost immediately after Conner was born. And when he met her, she was about to graduate from her education program and wanted to work with kids. She always looked at Devin like he hung the fucking moon. What the hell changed?
I start to open the small can of red paint and unwrap the paint roller I bought. Then I move Conner’s dresser away from the wall and throw down some newspaper I grabbed from a newsstand by the toy store.
It’s almost 11:30 p.m. when I finally finish decorating Conner’s room. My brow furrows a little bit. Devin should be home from his game by now. I think about calling him but decide against it. I assume he and his teammates have decided to either celebrate their win or commiserate their loss. Either way, the guy deserves to blow off a little steam. Exhausted, and fighting a headache, I head into the guest room and collapse onto my bed.
Chapter 5
Devin
We won, and for the first time all season, I actually had a lot to do with it. It was a 3–1 victory over the Comets and I had a goal and two assists. I was the first star of the game for the first time this season. Being that we were a month in, I felt like it was a much overdue accomplishment.
Everyone knows I am competitive, but no one knows just how much. Every game I play, I strive—and flat out work—to be the best player on our team. I don’t think that is much of a secret, but what was a secret is that I also have another goal every game—to get more points than the best player on the opposite team.
Levi Casco is the Comets’ golden child. My inner secret mission tonight was to get more points than him—and I had. When we play the Winterhawks, I try to get more points than Jordan—because my brother can never, ever beat me. It ruins my night if he does¸ which, sadly, happens a lot more often than I would like since he joined the NHL.
The reporters came in and I gave a few decent sound bites, talking about strategies and giving credit where credit was due. Alex Larue, who had been traded to our team from the Winterhawks last summer, was a rock star out there tonight. And Mitchell Lupo—or Loops, as we called him—had been on fire, keeping all but one of the thirty-three shots out of the net.
After the reporters left and I showered, I started thinking about what had been my personal turning point. For the last few weeks—since I moved into my own brownstone—I had been floundering on the ice. My shots were missing the net, I was turning over pucks, and I was taking stupid penalties. Not all the time, not a full-on meltdown, but enough that the coaches were concerned, and I was too. But today—everything was almost back to normal. I was back to making smart, controlled passes, my shots hit the net and I didn’t take a single penalty.
I figure it had to do with Callie. Well, her impact on Conner. He was so happy last night and it was the first night he actually stayed the whole night with me. And subsequently, it was the first night I got a decent amount of sleep. Night after night I lay in that memory foam, pillow-topped, king-size bed in a beautiful master suite and couldn’t get more than a couple of hours of sleep in a row. Last night I’d slept on the couch, with a bedsheet tented above me as a roof and my kid and Callie sprawled out on the floor below me, and I slept like the dead for seven hours straight. It wasn’t a normal night, by any means, but it was the most normal I had felt in a long time.
Was it because my kid had finally settled down? Was it because I wasn’t alone in a big room with nothing but my thoughts? Was it because someone finally knew my big, shameful secret? Was it because sharing that secret hadn’t resulted in pitiful stares or words of scorn or judgment—either internally by my own traitorous brain or externally by Callie? Or was it that Callie Caplan, as usual, has this weird way of unnerving me and making me feel stable at the very same time? She had been doing that to me since we were kids. It’s probably all of that to varying degrees. Whatever the cause, I’m just extremely grateful for the end result.
As I’m buttoning up my shirt and tucking it into my suit pants, our assistant coach, Phil Tucker, walks in.
“Hey, Garrison,” he says in an upbeat voice. “Luc Richard is here to see you.”
I spin around quickly with a completely shocked and confused look on my face.
“He said to tell you he would meet you in the parking lot. He’s got a pretty little thing with him too.”
“Rose,” I murmur and hurry to finish dressing.
Luc and Rose obviously know Callie is here so maybe they came to see her. I know his team is playing in Philly tomorrow, and had probably flown in last night, so he was in the area. But why is Rose with him? Although it isn’t unusual for him to meet up with me when his team is out this way, he usually calls first.
I drape my suit jacket over my arm and nod good-bye to the guys left in the locker room. As I head down the hall toward the player exit that leads to the reserved parking lot, another potential reason for their visit has me stutter-step. Callie told them about Ashleigh and me. As soon as the thought pops into my head, I know it’s the truth. Damn her.
When I get to the parking lot and see Luc and Rose, my worst fear is confirmed. I can tell before anyone even says anything. Rose’s eyes are wide and sad. Luc’s are narrowed with concern. I stop abruptly a few feet away. Rose comes rushing over to me and hugs me, but I don’t hug her back.
“Your sister has a big mouth.”
