Page 24 of Heartless As Puck

“Good.” She sniffed, opened the door, and marched out.

Despite everything, I almost smiled. Had Jane always had a backbone of steel?

I’d thought of her as meek, but perhaps I’d dismissed her too easily because of the way she shied away from attention and often used her hair as a shield against the world.

I grabbed my bag and put my dirty clothes into the laundry, then I entered the living area, but Jane was nowhere to be seen. I checked the kitchen, which was also empty.

Well, what was I supposed to do now? Everything felt upside down. Usually, I would go to my room, but instead, I decided to set up my laptop at the dining table in case she came out of her studio. I opened one of the videos I’d saved of Gauthier’s former team playing Fox’s former team from last season.

I had some idea of both players’ strengths and weaknesses, but not as much as I’d like to have if I were to be their captain. I’d also downloaded recordings of games that Elliot’s and Schmidt’s teams had played. I’d get to them next.

I started the game, opened my notebook, and got to work.

A couple of hours later, Jane’s footfalls came down the stairs, and she entered the kitchen. I glanced up from the game, but her focus was fully engaged by the fridge, so I didn’t have any way to ascertain her current mood.

On the screen, Gauthier intercepted a forward from the other team, wrangled the puck from him, and made a break for it down the ice.

Interesting. He obviously liked moving around the rink, which was different from the approach Matt and Halonen had taken last year. Matt generally stayed in the defensive zone and Halonen, for all that he was a glory hound, had been too afraid of Daniels to venture far from the goal in case something slipped past him.

“He’s fast,” Jane observed, breaking into my thoughts. “He’d do well paired with Matt. Matt could protect the goal while Gauthier remained more mobile.”

“You’re right.” I wasn’t sure why that surprised me. Whenever she’d said anything like that in the past, I’d always chalked it up to her knowing a bit about hockey because of her job with me, but there was much more to it than that. I really should have looked beneath the surface.

Now that I thought of it, Jane probably had opinions about a lot of hockey-related things that she’d never voiced to me. Had she felt that she couldn’t? That I wouldn’t be interested in hearing from her? Or had it been her desire to lie low that prevented her from speaking up?

I buried my teeth into my lower lip. Don’t ask. That’s exactly the sort of question that could get you in trouble.

I resumed taking notes when Jane didn’t say anything else, and she kept quiet through the rest of her time in the kitchen, although I was far too aware of her soft footfalls and the swish of the air when she moved.

When the meal was ready, she prepared a serving and brought it over to me. I held my breath, hoping she might join me—we had a lot to talk about, after all—but instead, she dished herself another serving and took it back to her studio.

I finished my meal and took my laptop to my living room, acknowledging that I likely wouldn’t see Jane again that evening. I couldn’t force my company on her if I wanted her to change her mind. In fact, I had to get better at listening to her.

My phone rang as I was getting comfortable in an armchair. I checked the caller ID and answered.

“Hi, Gus.”

“Hey, Austin. I thought I’d check in and see where you’re at on the matter of finding a girlfriend—either real or fake.”

I groaned. “Drop it. I’m already having trouble because of your bright idea.”

“Oh?”

“Jane isn’t pleased with me.”

He whistled. “Damn. She hasn’t come around?”

“Not even close.”

“Surely, we can change her mind. Have you offered her a raise?”

“She doesn’t seem to want to negotiate.” I’d offer her more if that was what it took, but I doubted that would be the case. It was obvious she’d rather pretend our conversation about fake dating had never happened.

“Give her time. She’s perfect for the job. I’d hate to try to find someone else right as we’re heading into the season. If we had to, do you think your neighbor would be interested?”

I snorted. “I said I don’t have time for a girlfriend, and I meant it. Not a real one. I’m willing to consider a fake relationship but not with anyone who will want or expect more, and that means definitely not Sylvia.”

She hadn’t been shy about coming on to me. She’d never settle for anything less than the real thing, and nor should she have to. But I wasn’t her man. Even if I were interested in her, I wouldn’t make her happy. I didn’t have enough time and energy to please any woman and falling short would hurt.