Game Changer

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Game Changer Page 4

by Kelly Jamieson


  She sips her tea. “I’ll take this and go back to bed.”

  “The tequila didn’t help you sleep?”

  “I did sleep for a while. Then I woke up and started thinking. Why is thinking in the middle of the night the worst? Everything seems terrible and hopeless.”

  “I guess I don’t usually do that.” I rub the back of my neck.

  “Lucky you. Okay, see you in the morning.”

  I watch the T-shirt twitch over her ass as she walks away. She may not have big hooters, but she has a spectacular ass.

  Okay, yeah, I’ve noticed that.

  Hopefully I can get some sleep too.

  I didn’t set an alarm, and I’m shocked when I grab my phone and see I slept till nearly ten.

  I bolt up in bed.

  Molly.

  The condo is silent.

  I throw back the duvet and once more go searching for her. Her bedroom door is still closed, the rest of the place deserted, so I guess she slept too. That’s good.

  I’m not a tea drinker but I like coffee, so I make myself a cup in the Keurig, then carry it into my bedroom. I need to shower, finish packing and take Molly… somewhere.

  After I’m showered and the beard stubble is tidied up, I toss my toiletry bag into the suitcase, along with a few more T-shirts. I add one pair of dress pants and a shirt, but I don’t plan on doing anything that requires dressing up. My camera gear is already packed.

  Molly appears in my bedroom door, now wearing the plaid pajama pants again. “Morning.”

  “Hey. Good morning. You must have gotten some sleep.”

  “Yeah.”

  She’s washed her face and she looks so different without all the dark stuff on her eyes, kind of pale and soft and vulnerable. “Good.”

  She holds up her phone. “What airline and flight are you on?”

  Jesus. She’s still on this? “Seriously?”

  Her little chin is firm. “Yes. Seriously. I won’t be a bother. I just want to get out of town.”

  “Molly. Wait.” I cross the room to stand in front of her. She tips her head back and meets my eyes. “I think you should go to your parents’ place. I think you should call Steve. And I think you two should maybe go for some couples’ counseling and see if you can work things out.”

  Her eyes widen. They’re a light green, almost the color of a pear, with a dark ring around the iris. “What?” She sounds like I just jabbed a stick into her belly.

  “Maybe you can work things out. Let him explain, apologize, grovel.”

  “Explain what?” Her voice rises.

  “I don’t know.” I swipe a hand over my mouth. “Maybe he has some kind of explanation.”

  “There is no explanation for cheating!”

  I sigh. “I know.” I totally agree. But I feel I have to give this a shot. “But people make mistakes. Maybe you can move on from this.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” She plants her hands on her hips and gives me a glare that could ignite a bonfire. “I saw those texts! I know what he was doing! And who he was doing it with!”

  Shit. Shit. I hold up my hands and make a calming motion. “Okay, I get it.”

  “I want to move on, alright. But not with him! Look, I’m not saying I hate him, but I hope his next blow job is from a shark.”

  After a stunned beat, I burst out laughing. I fall against the wall, I’m laughing so hard. “Jesus, Flynn.”

  She gives a lopsided smile, her anger dissipating. “It’s true.” Her eyebrows slope down. “Why are you saying this stuff? You really think I should go back to him?”

  “I’m not saying that.” I shake my head. I don’t even know what I’m saying. “I just feel like you shouldn’t bail on a relationship without making an effort.”

  “I made an effort. He didn’t.”

  Honestly, I don’t blame her. Like I said, she deserves better. “Okay. It’s your decision.”

  “Good. I’m coming to California with you.”

  “You could just stay here. If you want to hide out for a while. The place’ll be empty.”

  She pushes out her bottom lip, considering this. For a few seconds I think she’s going to go for it, then she shakes her head. “I want to be far away. This is going to be all over the internet.”

  I exhale slowly. “Okay.” I grab my own phone and find the boarding pass I downloaded yesterday when I checked in. I give her the flight number.

  She sits herself down on my bed without being invited. After a moment, she says, “What’s your seat?”

  “3C.”

  Her head snaps up. “First class.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Jesus,” she mutters. Her fingers move on the screen.

  Maybe a thousand bucks or more will deter her.

  Then she lifts her head and smiles. “Wow, I can’t believe seat 3A was available.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Yup. I’m booked.”

  I shake my head. “Okay, then. What are you going to do about clothes?”

  She looks down at herself. “I guess I can’t get on the plane like this, huh?”

  “Wouldn’t bother me.”

  She laughs. “You know I won’t. Can we stop at a Target on the way to the airport?”

  I can’t say no to her, goddammit. I never can. I hope she doesn’t realize this, or I’m fucked. “Sure. Why not.”

  5

  Jax

  Several hours later, we’re at O’Hare, checking my bag and Molly’s newly purchased suitcase filled with clothes and girl stuff from Target. Molly spent most of the drive to the airport on the phone with Katelyn Bennet, sorting out wedding-related issues. Katelyn is a wedding planner and she’s married to another one of our teammates, Tanner.

  “Flying first class is nice,” Molly says when we’re in the first-class lounge. “I’ve never done it before.”

  “I need the leg room.” At six-two, sitting in the main cabin is pretty damn uncomfortable.

  “I guess you do. I gather the charter plane you guys use has more leg room.

  “Yeah. It’s all customized for us.”

  We order drinks.

  “Do you miss hockey?” she asks.

  “Not yet.”

  “When will you miss it?”

  “In about a month.” I grin. “That’s usually how it goes. I love it, but the season is long and hard. My back’s hurting, and summer off gives it a chance to heal.”

  Her lips pout in concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh yeah. Nothing serious. I’ve had some physical therapy—tight hip flexors apparently pull things out of whack. I have some stretches and exercises to do.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  “After a while away from the game, though, I get antsy and anxious to get back on the ice.”

  She nods.

  I guess she knows this stuff since she was engaged to another player.

  Molly leans across the small table. “That girl is eye-fucking you.”

  I shake my head.

  “Over there. The blonde.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not looking.”

  “Why not? You’re single. She’s hot.”

  “I’m a little occupied at the moment.”

  “Damn. I’m cramping your style, aren’t I? You’d probably buy her a drink if I wasn’t with you.” She slumps back in her chair.

  It’s a possibility. Passing the time in an airport with a hot blonde is never a bad thing. But I have a cute little strawberry blonde sitting with me, so that’s not happening. And I don’t really care.

  “I love people watching in airports.” Molly leans back in her chair to look around. “That couple over there?” She moves her head. “Sugar daddy and his sugar baby.”

  I follow her gesture and study the couple. Yeah, the guy’s older, well-dressed, neat gray hair. The woman wearing high heels, tight, skinny black jeans and an expensive looking silk blouse has her hand on his arm, laughing at something he just said. “Nah. That’s a father
and daughter.”

  “Are you kidding? They’re flirting like crazy!”

  “I don’t see it. And look—they have the same eyes and nose.”

  Molly squints across the room. “I don’t think so.”

  I grin. I have no idea and don’t really care but she seems into this. We start making up stories about everyone else in the lounge.

  “That guy’s a Russian oligarch,” I tell her, motioning to a man sitting alone.

  “Ooh! That’s good. I think you’re right. He’s probably en route to Washington to meet with a scammy politician.”

  We finish our drinks and stroll out to our gate. It’s nearly boarding time.

  “I need to use the ladies’ room,” Molly says. “I hate using the bathroom on airplanes.”

  She disappears and I pull out my phone to pass a few minutes. Things have died down about the wedding, it seems. Or maybe not. Rico sent me a link to a gossip blog that has a whole thing about Chucky being left at the altar. Ugh. I won’t tell Molly about that.

  We’re first to board and settle into our seats. Molly’s all smiles checking out the space we have and the little menu. “We get food!” she whispers to me.

  “And booze,” I add.

  “We can drink our way across the country.”

  “Don’t get too carried away. I have a party to go to tonight.”

  “What? A party?”

  “My cousin JP just got engaged. My aunt and uncle are throwing a party for him.”

  “Oh, nice!”

  “They don’t know I’m coming.”

  “You didn’t tell them?”

  “I told them I was coming, just not exactly when. They planned this party the same day I arrive, so I’m just going to surprise everyone.”

  “Fun! Okay, now tell me about your family and why you and your grandpa don’t get along and why you don’t trust his wife.”

  “It’s long and complicated.”

  “We have about four and a half hours,” she says, fastening her seatbelt.

  I laugh. “True.” I fasten my own seatbelt as people file past us, filling the aircraft. “Okay. You know my grandpa is Bob Wynn.”

  “King of hockey.”

  “Yeah. My grandma—his first wife—died a few years before I was born. She came from a wealthy family in Toronto.”

  Molly nods, shifting a bit to face me, leaning her elbow on the small table between us.

  “Grandpa remarried about two years after Grandma died. His new wife is a lot younger than him. He was living in Los Angeles then, and my dad and my uncle both thought this woman married him for his money.”

  “Ooh. Is she young and beautiful?”

  “Yeah,” I admit. “I mean, she’s a lot younger than Grandpa. It caused bad feelings between all of them. They never liked Chelsea, and that pissed off Grandpa. Then Grandpa and Chelsea had a bunch of kids, which was around the same time I was born. And my sister and cousins. So it’s kind of weird that we have an aunt and uncles who are basically the same age as us. Dad and Uncle Matthew didn’t like that, either.”

  “I’m kind of feeling sorry for your grandpa and Chelsea.”

  “Huh. Really?”

  “Yeah.” She gives a firm nod.

  “Well, I grew up with my parents and Uncle Matt and Aunt Aline all telling me that Chelsea was the devil and Grandpa was stupid for falling for her conniving, money-grubbing scheme.” Another reason why marriage is for suckers.

  “Oh my God.”

  “And then there’s the money part.”

  “This is like a soap opera.”

  “Yeah.” I grimace.

  I pause the story while announcements are made and we taxi out onto the runway for takeoff. I watch Molly’s fingers clench together tightly as the plane lifts into the sky. Her eyes are squeezed closed, her lips rigid.

  “Nervous?” I’d like to reach out and cover her hands with mine, but I’m not sure if that’s appropriate.

  “I don’t want to die,” she says through clenched teeth.

  I swallow a laugh. I fly so often I don’t even think of it anymore. “You’re not going to die.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Okay, let’s say the odds are very, very small. Minute. Infinitesimal.”

  “It’s one in five point three million.”

  “Of course you know that.”

  “But I don’t care about odds. Even one in five million means it’s possible.”

  I can’t help my smile. “You need another glass of wine.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  It’s not long before the flight attendant comes by to ask about drinks. Molly is distracted by having a choice of wines. “You don’t get a choice when you fly coach,” she whispers. “I mean, your choice is white or red.” She selects a Pinot Grigio, and I ask for a beer, which also has several choices.

  “Okay, back to the Wynn family soap opera,” she says once we have drinks in hand. “The money.”

  “Well, like I said, Grandma came from a rich family and she left my dad and Uncle Mark a bunch of cash. I don’t know how much. Just over a year ago, Dad and Uncle Mark sued Grandpa because he stole their money.”

  Molly gasps. “Oh my gosh! I heard about the lawsuit. Did he actually steal it?”

  “Well, we thought so.” I rub my forehead. “That made Dad even more pissed at Grandpa, which made me pissed at him too. I’ve…been avoiding seeing him ever since.”

  Her eyebrows lift. “Ohhhh.”

  Now she’s getting why this trip isn’t going to be fun. I don’t have much of a relationship with Grandpa, but I need to try before it’s too late. “We found out later about the Alzheimer’s. I blamed him for stealing money when it was probably his disease. I feel guilty, and I need to make sure he’s okay.”

  “That’s…very honorable of you.”

  Is it? Mostly I feel like a knob. “After Dad and Uncle Matt sued Grandpa, Grandpa fired my dad.”

  Molly’s eyebrows fly up into her hairline. “Your dad worked for him?”

  “He coached the Condors.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Yeah. And Dad and Uncle Matt were so pissed, Uncle Matt bought a team—the Long Beach Golden Eagles, which have a huge local rivalry against the Condors.”

  Molly chokes on a laugh. “Wow. Not many people can buy a hockey team to piss off their dad.”

  I grin. “True. Then Uncle Matt hired Dad as their coach. So that really got Grandpa riled up. If they thought that was going to make him pay the money back sooner, they were wrong.”

  Molly rolls her lips inward on a smile. “Again, wow.”

  “But recently, the whole younger generation of Wynns—except me, because I live so far away—decided to try to do something to reconcile Dad and Uncle Matt with Grandpa. And especially because now we know he has Alzheimer’s.” I stop and clear my throat. “Apparently they’ve all been getting together and figuring out a plan. They discovered that Grandpa didn’t actually steal the money, he borrowed it, with their agreement. But he hasn’t paid it back like he was supposed to.”

  “He probably forgot.” She pauses. “I don’t mean that disrespectfully. But if he’s ill…”

  “Yeah. Could have something to do with it. It sounds like Chelsea has figured out a way to repay it—”

  “I knew it!” Molly pumps a fist. “She’s not a sugar baby!”

  “I’m not so sure. It could have been her who made him take the money, and now that Dad and Uncle Matt are fighting back, she knows she has to repay it.”

  She gives me the side-eye. “You really don’t like her. I can’t wait to meet all these people.”

  I freeze. “Wait, what? You want to meet them?”

  “Sure! I’ll bet this party is going to be lit.”

  I hadn’t thought of bringing her to the family party. Although ditching her in a hotel room all alone as soon as we get there doesn’t seem very polite.

  I knew this wasn’t a good idea.

  “You’re
kidding me.” I stare at the clerk at the front desk of the Tarragona Resort in Rancho Palos Verde.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “There are a few weddings being held here tonight, and tomorrow visitors are arriving for a big conference.”

  “You have no rooms at all.”

  “That’s right. We can let you know if we have a cancellation, though.”

  Molly’s hovering beside me anxiously. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It’s a big resort, I didn’t think it would be all booked. I can go somewhere else.”

  There isn’t anywhere close by. The resort is on a large property on the coast. I sigh. “We’ll just share a room. Something will open up after the conference, I’m sure.”

  Molly bites her lip. “Well, okay.”

  I finish checking in, and we go to our room on the fourth floor.

  “Ocean view!” Molly whisks straight to the big window and draws back the curtains. “Oh, this is beautiful!”

  The resort sits atop a bluff next to the ocean, so the view is panoramic. The sun hangs low over the Pacific, gilding the blue with glints of silver and gold. It really is nice, but I almost enjoy Molly’s delight more than the view.

  She unlocks the sliding door and opens it to step out onto the balcony. I follow and inhale the soft, fresh air. A couple of wicker chairs and a small table sit in the corner.

  “Did you know the Pacific Ocean is the biggest ocean in the world?”

  I grin. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did know that. Also the deepest.”

  “Yes. The Mariana Trench is the deepest ocean trench, deeper than the height of Mount Everest.”

  “Which is…?”

  She turns to me. “The height of Mount Everest?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Twenty-nine thousand, twenty-nine feet.” She rolls her eyes. “I can’t wait to get my feet wet in the ocean.” Eyes warm and soft, she adds, “Thank you for letting me come with you. For a while, I forgot about what a mess my life is.”

  My heart softens. “Your life isn’t a mess. But good, I’m glad we’ve taken your mind off things. Now, we need to get ready for the party.”

  “Oh! Are people going to be dressed up?” She sinks her teeth into her plump bottom lip, a small divot appearing between her eyebrows.

 

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