The knock on my door gives me the perfect excuse to end the call before she can make my stress level go any higher. I love her and could never find a way to show her how much I appreciate all of her help, but she still manages to stress me out with what she chooses to fixate on. “Food’s here.”
“Okay. I need to get your daughter to bed, anyway.”
I stand up and move to the door as Mom goes looking for Peyton to say goodnight. After tipping the room service attendant, I sit back down on the edge of the bed this time as my daughter comes back on screen.
“Goodnight, baby girl, I love you. Can’t wait to see you next week.” Seeing her brings a smile to my face, even with the stress mounting in my head.
“Love you, too, Daddy.” She yawns widely. “Give Snowberry a hug from me, ’kay?”
I lean over and pick up the small white bear she gave me a year ago that now travels with me everywhere, squeezing it to my chest. “Done and done. Tell Gran to give you an extra hug from me.”
“Night, Daddy.” Peyton waves at me, and I wave back before the screen goes black.
The low that always hits when I hang up from a call with Peyton sweeps over me. I miss her constantly.
Midway through eating my now cold dinner, my phone lights up with a new email. From none other than Willow Lawson, assistant director of media relations.
There’s no subject line and no content except for a string of ten numbers that I immediately save in my phone. The phone barely rings once before she answers. “Ronan?”
“Hey, Cherry.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath and know I’ve already made a mistake. “You can’t call me that.”
“Sorry.” I run my hands through my hair, stand up, and start to pace the room. “Is this gonna be okay? Me playing here?” Not that I can change anything if she says no, but I feel like I have to ask. “I didn’t seek out this trade, but it was one I couldn’t turn down. And I had no idea you were here.”
“I know, I saw the contract after you signed it. Five years is a long time. I know you probably wanted that stability for your daughter.” Her voice sounds too clipped, too formal. I know I’ve got professional Willow on the phone, not vacation-fling Willow.
“Yeah. It’s a hell of an offer.”
Silence falls for a minute, which stretches into two.
“No one can know about us, Ronan. About what happened in Hawaii.” She rushes the words out, as if they’re difficult to say.
I exhale slowly. I didn’t expect her to say anything different, and truthfully, I agree. But it still sucks. “I know. I don’t want to cause any waves with management. I won’t say anything.”
Her sigh of relief is audible over the phone, and I feel a bit bad realizing she must have been worried about this all day. “Thank you.” The two words are said so softly, I almost miss them. “Well, I should let you go.”
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “But, ah, it was good to see you again.”
Another second of silence as I wonder if I crossed the line again saying that. Then…
“You too, Ronan.”
The call disconnects, and I let my hand that’s holding the phone drop down to my side. There might be a huge wall between us now, but some part of me is still drawn to her.
Which is going to be a huge fucking problem.
Chapter twelve
Willow
“Willow, did you finish the preseason interviews?”
My face scrunches up. Almost made it. Schooling my expression, I turn from the elevators and make my way back to Lydia’s office.
“Yes, it all went well and footage has been sent to the social media team already.” I try to hide my impatience. I just want to go and eat lunch with Lark, not tell Lydia another thing she should already know.
For a while, I just blindly followed her every instruction, but the more time I spend working under her, the more I become aware of just how easily she passes off every task to someone else — namely me — and manages to skate by on the bare minimum of effort, still earning the maximum credit. It’s starting to drive me nuts, but if there was ever a rock and a hard place, I’m in it right now. Because, of course, she’s the one determining my future when it comes to taking over her job.
