“Rough call?” Cole asks.
“Par for the course.” I take a sip of wine. “My parents mean well, but conversations always circle back to Brett. His career, his achievements, his life. You know what they’re like.”
“That must be frustrating.”
“It is what it is. Brett has always been the golden child. Star athlete, full scholarship, professional contract. I'm just the little sister whoplans parties.” I shrug, trying to make it sound like it doesn't bother me.
But Cole is looking at me with those perceptive eyes, and I have the feeling he sees right through my casual facade.
“For what it's worth,” he says quietly, “what you've built with your company is impressive. And after today, I have a feeling you're going to show everyone exactly what Harper Hayes can do.”
The sincerity in his voice makes tears prick at the corners of my eyes. It's been a long time since someone recognized my achievements without comparing them to Brett's.
“Thank you,” I say, trying not to break into ugly sobs.
Cole swirls the wine in his glass. “I get it, actually. I was raised by a single mom, and she never let me use hockey as anexcuse to slack off in other areas. She made me learn to cook, clean, and do my own laundry.”
There's genuine warmth in his voice when he talks about her. “She sounds amazing.”
“She is. She worked two jobs to keep me in hockey gear and never complained once.” He takes a sip of wine. “She took early retirement a couple of years ago and moved to Florida. That was her lifelong goal.”
“Does she miss it here?”
“I don’t think so. She loves it down there.” He grins. “She's living her best life.”
“That's wonderful.”
“She comes up for games several times during the season. I'll introduce you when she's in town.”
Meeting his mother feels significant, important. I never did growing up since he wasn’t my friend, but Brett’s. But to Cole, I’m sure it’s nothing special. I’m his best friend’s little sister, after all.
“I'd like that.” And I truly meant it. I want to see the woman responsible for raising a neat freak secret chef like Cole.
Cole reaches for the wine bottle. “Another glass?”
The offer is tempting, but I don't trust myself. The combination of wine, good food, and Cole being charming is already making me feel reckless. Another glass and I might do something stupid. Like climb across this table and straddle him.
“I'm good, thanks. I'm pretty beat.” I push back from the table.
Exhaustion is the least of my problems. The real issue is the persistent ache that has taken permanent residence between my legs. It doesn’t help either that my body responds every time Cole smiles at me.
I want him so badly it's becoming physically painful, and wine will only make that worse. “Rain check on that secondbottle,” I add with what I hope is a casual smile. “Thank you for dinner. It was perfect.”
9
Cole
The car service drops me off at the Rockefeller Center, and I adjust my black tie one final time before stepping out onto the sidewalk.
I’m excited to see Harper. I’ve barely seen her in the last ten days, but I get it. It’s like me when the season begins, but her week was more intense. She’s been disappearing before dawn and returning after midnight.
I’m ashamed to admit this, but God, I’ve missed her.
I head inside, nodding to the security team. Anticipation thrums through my veins as I ride the elevator. I’m excited for Harper and to see her vision come to life.
Now that I know her a whole lot better, I appreciate how important this night is for her.
The elevator doors open, and I step into a space that has been transformed into something that belongs in a magazine spread. The Rainbow Room entrance has our team colors draping from the doorway and even in the floral arrangement. Harper definitely knows what she's doing.
