Page 6

Things became really awkward between us after I sent that video to him on my 18th birthday. He couldn’t help that he didn’t have feelings for me, but he didn’t have to completely ghost me after telling me. Besides messaging each other happy birthday once a year, and having stilted conversations when we’re both home for Christmas, we don’t talk at all.

I heave an exasperated sigh as the metro arrives and rush to get on along with the rest of the crowd.

Why did he have to come to the same city as me? And why did they choose his face for the stupid poster, out of all the other players on the team? Okay, I know why. That chiseled jawline and messy blonde hair were made for a poster. The man is gorgeous, even more so now that he’s a man and not a boy. Did he have to get better with age? The universe couldn’t have given him early male pattern baldness or something?

I remind myself more than half a million people reside in D.C. So my chances of randomly running into West are slim. Not to mention he’s a famous hockey player and we don’t really hang out in the same circles. I’m so lost in thought, I nearly miss my stop but jump off the metro just in time.

I arrive at the office and take a seat at my desk outside Mr. Windell’s—I mean, Madden’s—office. I’m twenty minutes early, as usual. Madden’s door is closed, which probably means he’s on the phone. I walk to the small break room across from my desk and start a fresh pot of coffee. The aroma of the coffee brewing in the pot fills the entire office. I love the smell of coffee, but I don’t drink it. I brew it purely for Madden’s benefit.

While the coffee is brewing, I fill a mug with water and pop it into the microwave to heat up. I grab the small canister of herbal tea packets I keep here and select the lavender chamomile.

I learned years ago that my diet helps immensely with my anxiety. And when I stay away from sugar and caffeine, I sleep so much better at night. And luckily, it’s been years since I had a nightmare about falling through the ice and drowning. My stomach churns at the reminder of the nightmare I used to have several times a week.

Shaking my head to urge those bad memories away, but a chill runs through my body. It’s as if I can feel the sensation of water so cold it burned, like I’m stuck in that pond all over again. I sit back at my small desk and begging to distract myself from these thoughts by organizing my pens in alphabetical order by color. Black, blue, orange, pink, red. I repeat every color in my head and take deep breaths.

My anxious thoughts have dissipated enough that I power on my computer and double check Madden’s schedule for the day. I call to confirm his appointments and make a note to pick up his dry cleaning. My job as an assistant may seem mundane to some, but keeping things orderly and on task eases my mind. As long as I keep myself busy, my mind doesn’t have time to linger on whatever is triggering me at that moment.

The smell of coffee entices my boss out of his office, as usual. He opens his office door with a smile on his face. I notice for the millionth time that he has abnormally perfect teeth. I saw the Christmas card he received from his parents last year, which featured a photo of the entire family, and my jaw nearly dropped. The Windell family missed their calling as models. Seriously. I don’t know how one family was so blessed genetically, it really isn’t fair to the rest of us.

“Good morning,” he says in a singsong voice before walking to the break room to pour himself a cup of coffee.

I can hear him humming to himself from the other room. He walks back into the main area, coffee mug in hand.

“Someone’s in an awfully good mood today,” I tease.

“Oh really?” He smiles. “Probably because Odette is in town. She puts an extra pep in my step.”

I laugh and Madden walks closer to my desk so he can glance down at the notes I’m making on my tablet. “Don’t worry about the dry cleaning; Odette is grabbing that for me today.”

“Yes, sir,” I say before erasing it from my calendar. “Any other changes?”

Before he can answer, we hear the office door open. Madden’s smile widens as he watches his wife walk through the door, and she smiles back at him just as big.

“How’s the handsomest congressman in Kansas history doing today?” She says in a playful tone.

Madden brings his hand to his chest in mock offense. “Kansas history? Don’t you mean the nation’s history?” She rolls her eyes and laughs, and I snicker at their cheesy banter.

Odette is more casual today than I’ve ever seen her before, with her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, white v-neck T-shirt, and slouchy boyfriend jeans. It’s nice to see her dressed down, makes her seem more relatable.

“Did you tell Melanie the good news?” She looks from Madden to me.

“Oh, right! I forgot.” He smirks. “Melanie, you’re a hockey fan aren’t you? Being from Minnesota and all?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, I grew up watching my brother’s games,” I tell them with a smile—but leave out that they were also West’s games.

“Wonderful!” Odette exclaims and claps her hands together.

Madden and Odette smile at me and I’m wondering if I should have inquired about why they needed to know if I was a hockey fan.

“There’s been a slight change of plans for Friday evening,” Madden says. “One of the Virginia state representatives has season passes for the D.C. Eagles, but he can’t make the opening game on Friday—”

Odette interrupts, “So he gave us tickets to the game!”

My shoulders drop and I feel the blood rush from my face. They both look so thrilled at the idea of attending the game so I force a smile. “Wow, that’s… great.”

“This will be our first NHL game. I hope we see some fights.” Odette seems thrilled about the idea of seeing the hockey players throw some punches.

Madden laughs. “Yeah, this hockey thing is new to us. Hockey isn’t really a thing in Kansas, we don’t even have an NHL team.”