The Swede

by Maureen Smith

“I don’t think so,” Nadia said with conviction.

  “But—”

  “That man is head over heels in love with you, Scarlett. Maybe he hasn’t said it yet, but he’s just as crazy about you as you are about him. After we went to your show in Cincinnati, Reid told me he’d never seen Viggo like that with any other woman. He’s absolutely bonkers for you. Reid sees it, I see it, our family and friends see it. And Audrey definitely sees it, hence the evil stunt she pulled yesterday.”

  Scarlett felt a surge of renewed anger. “I can’t believe I let that scheming little bitch play me like that. How could I have been so fucking stupid?”

  Nadia gave her a sympathetic grimace. “In your defense, your first instinct was to be skeptical. But then she threw you that curveball about your ‘family drama,’ and it made her story seem more plausible.”

  Scarlett shot Nadia a brooding look. “Would you have fallen for it?”

  “I might have. I mean, I still get insanely jealous when women throw themselves at Reid. So I would never sit here and judge you for the way you reacted yesterday.” Nadia reached over and gently stroked Scarlett’s cheek. “We both have relationship baggage that makes it hard for us to completely trust and surrender. But we have to overcome that. Speaking for myself, the love of a good man has already worked wonders in my life. I want the same for you.”

  As another wave of tears welled up in Scarlett’s eyes, Nadia passed her a handful of tissues.

  She swiped at her eyes, blew her nose and groaned. “I’m gonna cry myself to death if I keep this up.”

  “Let it all out. Crying is cathartic.” Nadia poured her more wine. “Booze helps, too.”

  Scarlett chuckled weakly and drank some wine, then dropped her head back against the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. “He’s never going to remember seeing me that night at his game,” she whispered.

  “The game you went to six years ago?”

  Scarlett nodded. “It was one of the biggest nights of my life, the night I lost my heart to a hockey-loving boy from Sweden. He changed my life with a simple wink, and he’ll never even remember.”

  Nadia chuckled. “Stop being so melodramatic. I didn’t go to that game with you guys, but if memory serves, weren’t you wearing face paint that night?”

  “Yeah,” Scarlett mumbled. “What’s your point?”

  “You can’t really blame the guy for not remembering you when half your face was covered with paint.”

  “I know.” Scarlett sighed. “It was just wishful thinking on my part. Like, if we were truly soul mates, he would have remembered that night as vividly as I do.”

  Nadia grinned. “And you say you’re not a hopeless romantic. Pfft.”

  “I’m not. Only with Viggo. He brings it out in me, makes me believe in kismet and fairy tales and all that shit.” She stared broodingly into her glass. “It’s just as well that things didn’t work out between us. I don’t want to get married at Hesselby Slott anymore.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I was looking at pictures one day and I just felt ‘meh’ about it. I mean, I still think it’s a beautiful place and we loved performing there last summer. But I just don’t feel that same spark of excitement at the thought of having a wedding there.” She shrugged. “I’m over it.”

  “That’s just your heartbreak talking,” Nadia said. “We both know you still want a destination wedding in Sweden.”

  “Not if Viggo isn’t my groom.” Scarlett swallowed painfully. “I knew he was too good to be true. He should have remained a fantasy and nothing more.”

  “See, that’s what I was just talking about,” Nadia admonished. “You’ve been secretly crushing on that man for six years, but your relationship baggage makes it hard for you to accept that he could be the real deal. You’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop, so you went looking for it.”

  Scarlett sighed. “I suppose. And speaking of shoes…” She looked down at the floor, admiring the ankle-strap Giuseppe Zanotti stilettos that Nadia had kicked off earlier. “Those are some badass heels.”

  Nadia smiled. “Reid bought them for me. He says they’re an early Valentine’s Day gift and there’s more to come.”

  Scarlett chuckled. “That man loves to spoil you.”

  “I know. It makes him happy, so I try not to fuss or think about price tags.” Nadia sipped her wine and gave Scarlett a wry look. “So what’d your mom have to say? I bet she’s taking this breakup almost as hard as you.”

  “You know she is.” Scarlett did an eye roll. “I almost didn’t tell her because I knew she’d freak out. But I’d already told you and Lennox—”

  “When does he get back from that fitness summit?”

  “Next week. I had him so worried, he offered to cut his trip short and rush back home to keep vigil over me.” She grimaced. “He also feels guilty because he recently posted a message to Facebook talking about the importance of family sticking together through hard times. The post was public, so Audrey saw it and ran with it.”

  Nadia gave her an incredulous look. “Are you serious? That’s how she found out about your family issues? By stalking your brother’s Facebook page?”

  “Crazy, right?” Scarlett scowled. “Talk about Single White Female.”

  “Seriously.” Nadia looked concerned. “She sounds kind of unstable, Scarlett. It wouldn’t surprise me if she followed you to that café so she could drop her little bombshell.”

  “Lennox said the same thing.”

  “Please be careful,” Nadia cautioned. “Who knows what else she’s capable of?”

  Scarlett brooded into her glass. “Guess it doesn’t matter anymore. She got what she wanted. Viggo and I are history.”

  “You’re not history. You’re on pause.”

  “If only.” Scarlett sighed. “Anyway, getting back to your original question about my mom, I knew I couldn’t move back home without giving her an explanation. She was so alarmed when I called her and told her what happened. But then I started bawling like a baby and she switched to nurture mode. She’s been very understanding and sympathetic, but she still managed to suggest that I sneak back into Viggo’s place and have a homecooked meal waiting for him when he gets back. Oh, and I should serve him the meal in sexy lingerie.”

  Nadia grinned. “That’s actually not a bad idea. You can borrow my French maid’s uniform. It’s one of Reid’s favorites.”

  “Um, you can hold on to that,” Scarlett said, her nose wrinkling. “God only knows how many jizz stains that outfit has seen.”

  Nadia pealed with laughter, denying nothing.

  Scarlett let out a long sigh. “Even if I wanted to sneak into Viggo’s penthouse, he probably already changed the code.”

  “Highly doubtful.”

  “Really? He thinks I’m a gold digger, that I’m just using him for his money,” Scarlett said miserably. “That hurt me to the core, Nadia. How can he honestly believe that?”

  “I don’t think he does,” Nadia consoled her. “He was just hurt and angry. Which is understandable, given what he overheard.”

  “But all I was trying to do was remind the guys what he’s done for us,” Scarlett insisted.

  “I know that’s what you were trying to do, but that’s obviously not how Viggo interpreted it. What he heard was, ‘Look at all the things I’ve gotten this sucker to do for us. Shut up and be grateful.’ And then for Gage to make that shady comment about you keeping your end of the bargain and getting a Sugar Daddy?” Nadia cringed. “Sorry, but it sounded pretty damning.”

  Guilt speared Scarlett’s heart as she dropped her gaze to her glass. “He recently told me that we wouldn’t be together if he thought I was using him in any way. It’s clearly a deal-breaker for him.”

  “As it should be,” Nadia reasoned. “The man’s worth a fortune, Scarlett. I mean, you and I have never cared about things like that—yay us. But we both know that Viggo’s one of the highest-paid players in the league, and he earns an insan
e amount of money from endorsements. Seriously. He can’t step out his front door without corporations throwing wads of cash at him. It’s only natural that he wants to protect himself from gold diggers. Some athletes don’t mind marrying women like that because they get a trophy wife out of the deal. That’s not Viggo, and I appreciate that about him.”

  “So do I.” Scarlett sighed mournfully. “I appreciate everything about that man. Except the fact that he never wants to see me again.”

  “Nah. That’s not true. He’s probably already missing you like crazy.” Nadia gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Give him time to brood and lick his wounds. He’ll come around when he’s ready.”

  Scarlett’s heart twisted, and a huge lump lodged in her throat. “I wish I shared your optimism. I really do.”

  “You’ll see,” Nadia promised, topping off Scarlett’s glass. “I know it feels like the end of the world, but just hang in there and don’t give up hope.”

  Half an hour later when eight o’clock rolled around, Nadia sent a longing glance toward the television.

  Scarlett felt a stab of guilt. “You wanna watch the game, don’t you?”

  Nadia looked sheepish. “I’d love to see Reid. But we don’t have to turn on the game if it’s too soon for you.”

  It was too soon. She didn’t think she could handle seeing Viggo right now, knowing that he probably hated her guts and rued the day he’d met her. But it would be selfish of her to deprive Nadia of the pleasure of watching her fiancé.

  So she put on her big girl panties, picked up the remote and turned on the game.

  Of course Viggo ended up having one of his best games of the season. He played with lethal efficiency, dominating and outgunning defenders. He didn’t do much trash talking or celebrating. Like the most skilled assassin, he got the job done and left a string of dejected opponents in his wake. When the final horn sounded, he’d scored two goals and racked up four assists, leading the Rebels to a resounding 6-1 victory over Calgary.

  The win left Scarlett feeling conflicted. On one hand, she loved Viggo so much and she truly wanted him and his team to succeed. But his amazing performance demonstrated that he was probably better off without her. And that was a bitter pill to swallow. An unbearable pill.

  Three nights later, she broke down and called him again. When his voicemail picked up, she clutched the phone tighter, her heart aching as she listened to the sound of his deep voice.

  At the beep, she closed her eyes and began singing Klymaxx’s “I Miss You.” She got as far as the line “I miss you and me” before the voicemail cut her off.

  Slowly she put her phone down, curled into a fetal ball on her bed and quietly blubbered her way through the rest of the song until she fell asleep.

  Chapter 35

  Scarlett

  Desperado

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you’re still making me do this,” Scarlett groused to Cara in the backseat of their chauffeured SUV. “What part of ‘we broke up’ did you not understand?”

  Cara was texting, her manicured fingers flying across her phone’s screen. She was always multitasking. Always wheeling and dealing.

  Scarlett frowned. “Hello? Did you hear me?”

  Cara glanced up at her. “Are you still complaining? We’re on our way to the photo shoot, Scarlett. It’s a done deal.”

  “I realize that,” she grumbled. “I’m still allowed to voice my displeasure.”

  “Which you’ve been doing since you picked me up from the airport. Maybe I should have requested a separate car.”

  “Or maybe you should have just called this whole thing off.”

  “Nope. Not an option.”

  Scarlett let out her breath in a little hiss of exasperation. “Why am I the only one who thinks it’s crazy for me to be doing a magazine spread with a guy I’m no longer dating?”

  Cara went back to texting. “You’re just taking some photos—”

  “What about the interview?” Scarlett challenged. “Are we supposed to sit there and answer questions like we’re still a couple? That’s perpetrating a fraud.”

  Cara waved her off. “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re not perpetrating a fraud. There’s nothing wrong with keeping up appearances for the sake of good PR. Celeb couples do it all the time. By the time this issue comes out, you and Viggo will probably be back together.”

  Scarlett frowned. “We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in two weeks.”

  “Pfft. That’s nothing. Talk to me when it’s been a year.”

  Scarlett’s heart wrenched at the thought. The past two weeks had been hellish enough. She couldn’t imagine going an entire year without Viggo.

  Cara’s expression softened. “If he wanted nothing to do with you, he would have told the editor to cancel the photo shoot. It’s very telling that he didn’t.”

  The same thought had occurred to Scarlett. But she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

  “God, it’s pretty out here,” Cara gushed.

  Scarlett said nothing as she stared out the window. She’d been born and raised in Colorado, so the beautiful passing scenery wasn’t new to her.

  They were shooting on location at a private ski chalet tucked into the Rocky Mountains. The owners had rented out the property to GQ for the photo shoot. To accommodate Viggo’s busy travel schedule, the editor was flying in from New York that afternoon to do the interview. Scarlett was dreading it.

  Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a quaint little chalet nestled in the forest and surrounded by ski runs.

  “Wow,” Cara said appreciatively. “This is amazing. It looks like something out of a painting or a movie.”

  As Scarlett gazed out the window, she had a flashback to the night she and Viggo went stargazing. On the way to the lookout point, he’d joked about them running off to the mountains to find their own secret hideaway.

  Her heart twisted painfully at the memory.

  When they pulled up in front of the chalet, the photographer’s assistant came out to greet them, introducing herself as Lissa as she ushered them inside. Scarlett had an impression of rich wood flooring and blazing fireplaces before she was whisked off to hair, makeup and wardrobe.

  Her hair was blow-dried and sculpted with mousse so that it swept over one side of her face in edgy layers. Her makeup was dramatic—sparkly silver eyeliner, super long false eyelashes and bold red lipstick.

  The first outfit selected for her consisted of a pair of skintight black leather pants, a midriff-baring leather halter top and spike-bedecked stilettos that would make a dominatrix jealous.

  After the wardrobe stylist finished fussing over her, Cara entered the dressing room and squealed excitedly, “Oh my God! You look sooo fucking hot!” She circled Scarlett, inspecting her from head to toe. “I would totally bend you over and do you if I weren’t straight. Which feels really inconvenient right now.”

  Scarlett snort-laughed. “You’re such an inappropriate manager.”

  Cara cackled and skipped over to the wardrobe rack to sift through the designer outfits. She pulled one out and breathed, “Ooh. Look at this.”

  Scarlett stared at the sheer white lace-up bodysuit dangling from the hanger. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  Cara frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “They want me to pose in lingerie?”

  “What’s the problem? You’re a rock star. You dress super sexy all the time onstage.”

  “I’m a drummer,” Scarlett countered, “and I always keep my ass covered. That thing’s barely gonna cover my coochie.”

  Cara made an exasperated noise. “Did you see the spread with Iggy and Nick? They had Iggy naked in some glass tub, and she wore a lace bodysuit in another photo. What can I say? Sex sells, modesty bores.”

  “I realize that,” Scarlett grumbled. “I’m just saying. My dad’s still getting used to my tattoos and piercings. He won’t appreciate seeing me in a men’s magazine with my tits and ass hanging out.”
<
br />   “Then tell him not to look.”

  Scarlett frowned. “I don’t think Viggo will be too thrilled about it either.”

  “Seriously? Do you think Nick Young objected to Iggy being naked in that tub? Has Kanye ever stopped Kim from posting naked selfies every five minutes? Has Jay-Z ever berated Beyoncé for dressing hella sexy?”

  “Point taken.” Scarlett grinned sheepishly. “I guess I’m just a victim of my upbringing. My dad used to say that when a man loves and cherishes a woman, he’ll slay dragons before he shares her body with the world.”

  Cara rolled her eyes. “What antiquated mumbo-jumbo. Was your dad a caveman?”

  “No,” Scarlett laughed. “He’s just super old school.”

  “How cute.” Cara put her hand on Scarlett’s shoulder and pinned her with one of her direct stares. “Here’s the reality, babydoll. You’ve got a great body, and as you just noted, GQ is a men’s magazine. Of course they want to show off your killer curves. That’s a big part of the allure of your relationship with Viggo. You’re both beautiful and you look smokin’ hot together. I’m sorry if that sounds shallow or if it offends your feminist sensibilities, but that’s just the way it is.” She held up the skimpy bodysuit. “They picked this out for you to wear, so you’re wearing it. Capisci?”

  Scarlett scowled. “You’re such a damn ball buster.”

  Cara laughed. “I’ll always take that as a compliment. Especially coming from a fellow ball buster.”

  “I’m not as bad as you,” Scarlett grumbled.

  Cara snorted. “Your bandmates would beg to differ.”

  The longer they sat around the dressing room waiting for Scarlett to be summoned, the tighter her nerves grew. She’d done photo shoots before, but she’d never been this nervous. Her stomach was churning with thousands of crazed butterflies, and she couldn’t stop toying with the silver lightning bolt earrings that dangled from her lobes.

  “Stop fidgeting,” Cara told her.

  “I’m not fidgeting,” she mumbled.

  There was a knock on the door.