Overnight Sensation

by Sarina Bowen

  “Nope!” he says cheerfully. “‘I love you against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.’”

  Do not cry, I order myself. But who could resist a man who says things like that? “Is that Shakespeare?”

  “Dickens,” he says. “The man was good at telling it to you straight. And he knew that the scary stuff was just the other side of the happiness coin.” He kisses my eyebrow. “I believe him now.”

  “Well…” My tummy flutters. “I didn’t plan on loving you, either. But I do. You’re basically irresistible, except when you’re telling me what to do.”

  He smiles at me, and his brown eyes look as warm and beautiful as ever. “Sometimes you don’t mind that.”

  “True,” I admit. “It depends on whether we’re wearing clothes. But when we’re fully dressed, I need you to see me as an adult. Not a flighty child.”

  “I do,” he says, kissing my ear. “I swear. Except when I think you’re in danger. But I’m working on that, okay? I promise. You can call me on it, too. And I’ll listen. We can start by calling this thing by what it is—a relationship.”

  “Wow,” I say. “All right.” I nuzzle his warm cheek. “Does this mean we can keep having dirty, filthy sex?”

  “You bet.” He kisses me then. And—jeez—his kisses are even better than his hugs. I’m leaning in for more when someone clears her throat.

  I startle and find Georgia standing over us.

  Whoops.

  “I called us a car,” she says cheerfully. “So maybe you two want to take it down a notch until after tonight’s game?”

  Jason chuckles while I turn red.

  “Actually,” I say, as I stand up. “I have to find a hotel room. My flight home is tomorrow at eight in the morning.”

  “You can bunk with me,” he says. “Georgia won’t rat us out to Coach, right?”

  The publicist shrugs. “Leo and I aren’t saints, either. So I guess it would be hypocritical to turn you in. Let’s go, kids. I think that’s our car.”

  Jason takes my hand as we stand up, and he holds it all the way to the hotel.

  39

  Heidi

  That night I watch Brooklyn beat Minnesota. And then I sneak into Jason’s hotel room so the two of us can stay up half the night making out and talking.

  “Will you please come home with me tomorrow?” he asks. “It’s not the same without you there.”

  “I need to pay some rent,” I insist. “It’s not fair to Silas if I don’t.”

  “Fine. We’ll work something out,” he says, kissing my neck. Then he rolls on top of me, and I forget all about paying rent.

  Now I know how it feels to get everything I want.

  No—wait. My wish list is still full of small and large dreams, some of them sparkly and expensive and some merely impractical. Wanting things is what keeps me alive and optimistic.

  But now I know how it feels to get everything I actually need. I have a job (of sorts) with the possibility of a better one. And I have the love of a man who makes my heart go pitter-patter. Beyond his smoking-hot exterior, there’s a whole lot of good stuff in there. He’s loyal and passionate. And he quotes literature really well.

  I’m so gone for him. As we stand at the luggage carousel the next day, waiting for our bags, I can’t keep my eyes off him. I’m like a cartoon character with hearts in its eyes.

  Jason’s phone rings, and he answers it. “Hello?” As I watch, he frowns. Then he glances right at me. He covers the phone with his hand. “This is the weirdest call. This woman claims she’s calling from Belle Pepper’s Delivery Service.”

  “Oh, she is!” I explain. “That’s my call center in India. I had to do some outsourcing so I could take this trip.”

  “I got the same call a couple minutes ago,” Silas says, pulling his suitcase off the carousel.

  Jason’s eyes soften. “Have I ever told you how formidable you are?”

  “Not lately,” I say in a teasing voice. “Tell me now.”

  “Jesus,” Silas complains. “I’m going to need my own cab home, aren’t I? Can you two keep it PG-rated for another half hour?”

  “No,” Jason says, just at the same moment that I say, “Yes.”

  “But I have to go to Manhattan,” I confess. “I took all my stuff to my dad’s condo. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  Jason plucks my bag off the conveyor belt and then puts a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you packed up and left.”

  “It’s okay,” I assure him, stepping in to hug him. “You can make it up to me tonight.”

  “Check, please,” Silas says, rolling his suitcase away from us.

  Jason kisses me on the nose. “Tell you what. Let’s take a car into Manhattan and get your stuff.”

  “Really? You have time for that?”

  “For you? Absolutely.” His lips brush mine, and I can’t help kissing him again.

  Someone makes a gagging noise, and we don’t even stop.

  Somehow we keep it PG in the taxi. When we reach East 78th Street, the cab can’t even get close to the building, because there are news vans in front of Dad’s high rise.

  “Just another day in Manhattan,” Jason says. “I wonder which movie star just made the papers? Let’s get out here.”

  He pulls our luggage from the trunk, and off we go down the crowded sidewalk.

  “Staying overnight?” the doorman asks as we roll two suitcases into my father’s building.

  “No, can I park these with you?” I ask him.

  “Of course, Miss Pepper! Anything for your family. Give my regards to your parents.” He wrings his hands, which is a little strange.

  “Parents?” Jason asks in the elevator. “Like, plural?”

  “Well…” It’s just dawning on me that Mom might be visiting. Didn’t Jana mention that? “It’s possible that you’re about to meet my mother. She never comes to New York, though, so I could be wrong.”

  When I let myself into the condo a minute later, though, they’re both right there in the living room. “Hi guys,” I say cheerfully. “What’s this all about?”

  “Oh! Heidi,” my mother chirps. “I’m leaving your father.”

  “What?” I gasp.

  “She won’t,” he says in a voice full of misery. “She’s just in shock.”

  “About what?” I’m frozen in the entryway, afraid to walk inside. As if staying out of the room can help me avoid whatever is wrong.

  Jason gives me a gentle nudge. He closes the door behind me and then squeezes my hand. I’ve got you, it says.

  Unwilling to let go, I tow him into the living room with me.

  “Evening,” he says. “Mrs. Pepper, I’m Jason.”

  “Nice to meet you, too.” She gives him a feral head-to-toe examination, then turns to me. “Well done, Heidi. Is he good at managing his assets? Or will he bet your entire net worth on his ex-roommate’s pharmaceutical company and lose everything?”

  I replay this outrageous sentence in my head and try to decipher it. “What’s happened?”

  “Sit down,” my father says, indicating the sofa. When Jason and I sit down beside one another, my father gives Jason a polite nod of greeting. “Heidi, I have difficult news.”

  “A cancelled dinner reservation is difficult news!” my mother shrieks. “This is Armageddon!”

  My father closes his eyes in a show of distress and then opens them again. “I’m sorry to tell you that when I sign over your trust fund next week, it won’t be much good to you.”

  All my blood stops circulating. “What? Why?”

  “Because I invested it in Kafi’s company. And the FDA just shut them down for fraudulent practices.”

  “Oh, shit,” Jason breathes beside me. “The Kafnar Corporation? I read about that. They were falsifying their lab data.”

  My mother begins to cry silently.

  “Omigod,” I say like a braindead girl. T
he foundations of my secure little world are crumbling. I thought the money would be waiting for me. And it isn’t. “You knew!” I gasp. Everything makes so much more sense now. “It’s not that you didn’t want to give the money to me! It was gone!”

  My father hangs his head. “Until last week I still hoped that it would turn out okay. I trusted Kafi and his team.”

  My anger recedes just a little. Kafi and my father played hockey together in college and then in Philadelphia, although Kafi retired when he was only twenty-seven to work at his father’s drug company. Of course my father trusted Kafi. You’re supposed to trust your best friend of thirty-five years.

  “And I was upset that you’d left school. You’re going to have to work for a living like most people.”

  I weigh this idea, too. And while I’ve hoped my trust fund could help get me the start I want, I realize that working isn’t a scary thing. I like working. That’s why I’d left school in the first place. Bryn Mawr felt so impractical. “If only you’d let me go to NYU for business,” I say in a whisper.

  “That would have been…” He closes his eyes again. “A fine idea.” He sighs. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t listen way back then. But you were only eighteen, and I wanted you safe in the hills of Pennsylvania.”

  Jason and I exchange a glance. He smiles. “Everyone wants you safe. But none of us knows how to get it right.”

  I take a deep breath and straighten my spine. Then I smile back at Jason. It’s an exercise in will. “Okay. This isn’t the end of the world,” I say slowly. “I enjoyed being a spoiled little rich girl. But it isn’t everything.”

  Jason’s expression turns serious. “You impress me every day,” he says. “I hope you know that.”

  I swallow hard, because it means a lot to hear that.

  “And you’re pretty fun as poor chick, too. Besides, I just happen to know an apartment in Brooklyn that can’t wait to welcome you back.” He puts an arm around me.

  “Thank you,” I choke out, leaning against him. What a year this has been!

  My father clears his throat. “I’m truly sorry, sweetheart. I never thought it could turn out like this.”

  I still don’t really know what’s happening. “Are you losing everything?”

  “My liquid assets are probably gone.” He flinches. “I thought Kafi’s developmental drug was a safe bet. But I still have my job. For now. I may have to sell the Nashville home and downsize.”

  Mom’s sobbing increases in volume.

  “And the country club membership will have to go,” he says over her tears. “Everything frivolous.”

  I eye my mother, wondering what she does any given day that isn’t frivolous. “Mama, calm down. Your mascara is starting to smear.”

  She straightens up immediately and reaches for a tissue. “My poor girl,” she says, turning her teary face toward me. “This is devastating.”

  It isn’t, though. Devastating is losing everything in an earthquake or a fire. Devastating is losing the person you love. My mom will come through with most of her designer clothes in a downsized condo somewhere swank.

  “Hang in there, Mama. That’s just the shock talking.”

  She leaps up, crosses to me, and grabs me into a tight hug. “You’re a good girl, Heidi Jo! Such a good girl.”

  I glance beyond her perfumed arms to Jason, who lifts an eyebrow at me. His expression says, Sometimes you’re a very bad girl and I know all about it.

  My smile pops into place. I’m so grateful to have him here with me. And I can’t wait to show him my gratitude.

  “Mama,” I say gently. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

  “No,” she sniffs. “I’m going home to Nashville to mourn.”

  I bite back my opinions and pat her arm. “Well, call me when you’re feeling calmer. I have to head to Brooklyn and beg Rebecca for a full-time job.” I stare down my father. “Can I assume that you won’t stop her from hiring me?”

  He waves a hand in a gesture of assent. Poor Daddy is worn out. I feel a pang of sympathy for his stubborn self.

  I kiss my parents goodbye and then let Jason steer me back into the elevator. “You’re going to be okay,” he says.

  “Oh, I know it.”

  “Sorry about the money. It doesn’t make you a spoiled brat to be mad about it.”

  “Doesn’t it?” I sigh. “That’s going right to the top of my wish list.”

  “What is?”

  “Becoming spoiled again. That sums things up pretty well.”

  He laughs. “I’ll spoil you later, Hot Pepper. I can’t wait.”

  40

  Jason

  In the elevator, I pull out my phone, because we need an Uber back to Brooklyn. But I’m distracted by the fact that I have twenty-five new texts.

  I read the one on top first. It’s from Silas. Oh shit! Is Heidi okay?

  Hmm. It’s possible that the media has this story. The next text—from Trevi—has a link attached. This sounds bad, he writes. The headline reads: “Hockey Commissioner’s Personal Finances Engulfed by Kafnar Scandal.”

  And the byline is Miranda Wager’s.

  “Oh shit,” I whisper as the elevator doors open. Out the windows I spot the news vans on the street. And now I know why they’re out there.

  Heidi spots them, too, and stops in the center of the lobby. “Do you think they’re here for…” I can hear her mind clicking along. My girl is smart.

  “I’m afraid so,” I say, tucking my arm around her. “Does this place have a backdoor?” If they decide that Heidi is part of the story, she could end up with her face in the news stories alongside her dad.

  The flustered doorman brings our suitcases out. “You could exit through the parking garage,” he says. “Can I call you a car?”

  “Yes, please,” I say immediately.

  “Right away, sir.” He rings for the elevator again, and Heidi and I get onto it, this time heading toward the basement.

  My girl’s lips are in a thin, worried line as we exit into the cool underground space and walk toward the exit. “I’m worried about my mom,” she says. “The woman has never worked a day in her life.”

  “Maybe she won’t have to,” I point out.

  We emerge onto East 77th, and the first person we see is Miranda Wager herself.

  “Shit.”

  Heidi gasps as Miranda takes a picture of her.

  “Cut that out!” I bark. “She’s not the story.”

  “No kidding,” Miranda says. “She never really was. And neither were you, so she can stop lunging at me in the street.” Miranda rolls her eyes.

  “You are not a nice person!” Heidi squeaks.

  “Who is?” Miranda snaps. “That picture of your dad and Kafnar Jr. in Georgia’s office, though. Now that’s news.”

  “It isn’t!” Heidi shrieks. “Write about Kafi if you want a scandal.”

  “You don’t think it matters if the league commissioner trusts the wrong dealmakers? He’s responsible for the financial wellbeing of the entire sport.”

  Well, ouch. I steer a red-faced Heidi away from her. “Nice to see you, Miranda. Always a pleasure.”

  Heidi wiggles under my arm, trying to get away from me. So I stop on the sidewalk and face her. “Look. I promised not to protect you when you don’t need protecting. And I guess this counts. But do you really want to have it out with a journalist on the sidewalk? She probably records every interaction.”

  “Arrrrrgh!” Heidi shrieks. “I want to wipe that smirk off her face.”

  “I know,” I say in my calmest voice. “And I’d love to watch. But it’s still a bad idea.”

  Heidi’s eyes are wild. I want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her away from here. My fingers actually itch to do it.

  But I don’t. I take a slow breath and just wait.

  Heidi’s shoulders slump. “Let’s go home and throw darts at her picture instead.”

  “Yes! I call first shot. Ten bucks a point.” I
lift my hand for a high five.

  She slaps it. “Still want to choke her.”

  “I know, baby. And I still want to stop you. But look at me being all adult about it.”

  A smile flickers across her face. “Thank you for what you did in there.” She tips her head toward the building.

  “I didn’t do a thing.”

  “You did,” she insists. “You were there for me. No advice. No drama. Just…sturdy.”

  “I can do that,” I say, and I realize it’s true. Maybe I’m not a horrible boyfriend, after all.

  “And I appreciate it. Drama is really not the Pepper family style. I’m kind of shaken up about it.”

  Our car pulls up at the curb. “Let’s go home, okay?” I open the backdoor for her. “No more drama today. No parents. No apartment hunting, for God’s sake. Let me take care of you, with movies in bed and takeout food. I’ll have a team meeting later, but mostly I get the day off.”

  “That sounds great.” She hops into the car. “Let me just call Becca.” She pulls out her phone. “Oh, crap. It’s dead.”

  “Use mine.” I hand her my Katt phone as I get in and close the door. “Becca’s cell number is in there.”

  “Sweet.” As the car pulls away, she dials. Because we’re in a small space, I can hear a tinny version of Becca’s voice say, “Hello? Jason?”

  “This is Heidi,” my girl says. “I needed to tell you—”

  “Are you okay? I just saw it on the news. Your poor dad.”

  Heidi flinches. “Yeah, it’s bad for him. And I need a real job now. He won’t stand in my way. I’m open to any department. But I have to ask if maybe your new assistant isn’t working out…”

  Becca says something I can’t understand, and Heidi’s grip on my hand tightens. “I understand,” she says stiffly.

  “However,” Becca’s voice says before becoming unintelligible again.

  Heidi sits up straighter. “Really? YES! YES! I mean—I’d consider that. Sure. If the terms were right.”

  I bite back a chuckle, because my girl is already negotiating.