Page 59 of Slapshot Bride

“You need the team’s lawyer.”

“The team’s lawyer is already involved. The team has been involved since the second photo dropped two weeks ago.”

He looks at me, and I immediately know he hasn’t seen it.

Between his job as an architect and the long hours it demands, the man has no time for the media gossip.

“There’s another story. Someone actually.” I say. “Who would get hurt, and umm…” My throat is suddenly dry because the image of her getting pulled into this mess begins to form in my head. “We’ve already been photographed in public. If the Maya pictures come out, it’ll be a huge scandal. Not just for me, but for this woman.”

He laughs. Soft. Surprised. He shakes his head, and he laughs again, and the bartender across the room glances over at the sound and back down again.

“You’re seeing someone?”

I don’t answer.

“You? The man who has not been on a second date in three years? The man who turned down the Vogue thing last spring because he did not want to introduce a woman to that level of attention? That man is sitting in this bar telling me he has someone else?”

“It’s not that way. It’s…”

“It is, though. Look at your face.”

I look at my drink.

“I wanna meet her.”

“Mason…”

“Easton, I want to meet her. Whoever she is. Whatever you are not telling me. I want to meet her. I want to know her name, I want to shake her hand, and I want to ask her one question that you won’t approve of, and I want to do it before this Maya thing splashes on her, because if she's yours, she's going to be in the middle of it.”

“It’s not like that, Mason. It’s complicated. It’s messy. Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know she came as a surprise, it wasn’t supposed to be this way, but now… now I don’t know… she doesn’t even know I see her that way.”

He laughs. He’s amused, and I know my situation is funny to him because I can hear myself. And I don’t sound sensible.

“You’re down bad, man. More reason I need to meet this woman.” He takes a swig of his beer.

The bar door opens behind him. She walks in.

Maya.

Mason doesn't see her. He can't, from where he's sitting. I can.

She doesn't look at me. She walks to the bar, whispers something to the bartender that makes him smile, and then he slides a glass across to her. She takes one sip and turns.

Her eyes find mine across the room.

For three seconds, she holds them, then she sets the drink back on the bar, picks up her purse, and walks out the front door.

I'm out of the booth before I have decided to be.

“Easton?”

“One second.”

“Easton?”

“One second, Mason.”

I'm in the parking lot. The door swings shut behind me. My eyes adjust to the dark.