“Do you know what will happen if this gets out?” Drew’s tone is low and accusing.
I force my eyes to look at her because it’s the respect she deserves, and when I do, I see the disappointment in her gaze.
Something I put there.
While Drew was waiting for me to show up in town, I was busy doing what I do best.
Being a fucking prick.
“I’ll have fines coming out of my ass,” I bite out. All the anger I’m feeling is directed internally.
Drew steps toward me, and I’m surrounded by a scent of lemon and bergamot. “Fines are the least of your worries, Hotshot.” She says the name with a mocking undertone and points back toward where Candice just disappeared. “That girl will likely lose her job, and guess what will happen next.”
Before I can answer, Candice reenters the living room. Now fully dressed.
I stand so I can show her to the front door. There’s no way she can stay, given the charged atmosphere, and I need some time to calm Drew down.
Candice holds up a hand, tears pooling in her eyes. “I promise I won’t say anything about what happened. I’ve had a really shitty time lately, and this was a complete misjudgment on my part.”
On a sob, she heads toward my front door, and Drew races after her.
I hear muffled voices for approximately thirty seconds before my front door closes, and Drew comes to sit beside me on the couch.
We both sit facing the floor-to-ceiling windows and stare out at the darkened cityscape until, finally, Drew breaks the tension with a line that has me chuckling despite everything that’s just gone down.
“Rule nine: The client agrees to stop doing things that make his publicist want to commit a felony.”
Still amused, I turn to look at her properly, and that’s when I see her disappointment has been replaced with despondency over my careless actions.
My laughter fades, and if I hadn’t been the total opposite of professional already, I’d wrap my arms around her slender shoulders.
“You look really nice, by the way.” I don’t know why I say it, but the words tumble from my subconscious. “No one, not even your client, has the right not to show up when you’re looking like you do right now.”
Drew playfully nudges her shoulder into my upper arm. “That kind of sweet talk doesn’t work on me, Jones. Save that for the girls you can bang without breaching any contracts.”
I stare at Drew for a beat, examining her unreadable expression.
“You know what’s weird?” I point out.
She shakes her head once, and I know we’re now talking as two people who have known each other for years and no longer in a professional capacity.
“Hooking up as a pro player doesn’t hit the same as it did when I was in college.”
Drew offers me a tight smile. “Frat parties have no place in a pro hockey player’s lifestyle. It’s all drinking and beer pong and waking up, not knowing where you are … or who you’re with.”
I pull back, jaw popped open. “Are you talking from experience, Miss Callaghan?”
Drewandone-night standsdo not belong together in the same sentence. She’s too much of a good girl for that.
Or maybe that’s just the way I’ve always seen her.
She blushes, and I’d be blind to deny how cute it is.
“Maybe you haven’t got me all figured out after all, Hotshot.”
She stands, and all I want is for her to stay and tell me exactly what she meant by that statement.
“Candice won’t breathe a word.”
