by Lizzy Ripp
"You don't have to tell me," Yaro grinned, turning around to drop a kiss on the top of her head. "But so are you, so I guess that's fair. Anyway. Got to get you as relaxed as possible for that interview tomorrow. You're going to kill it," he added at her nervous expression.
"I hope so. Going on-air has been my dream since I was a kid. What about you?" She asked, leaning against the counter, taking another deep sip of her Shiraz. "Did you ever want to be anything other than a hockey player?"
"Of course," he said. "It wasn't that I wanted to be a hockey player - I just WAS a hockey player. You know? Like... I knew that I was a boy, and a Russian, and a hockey player, and a human. That's who I was," he shrugged as he popped a lid on the pasta and sauce dishes respectively, letting the former boil and the latter simmer as he poured himself his own glass of wine.
"Well, what did you want to be then?"
"I wanted to be an artist," he said frankly.
"But you already are one of those, too," she said. "I've seen your stuff. You're just as much an artist as you are a hockey player as far as I'm concerned."
"Nah, not the same," he said, taking a deep, satisfying sip of the red as he leaned back against the counter, pulling her to him so her back was against his chest.
"Sure it is," she said. Then after a moment's pause: "Did you ever think about doing that when you leave the League? Art? Like a full-time thing?"
"I told you I don't think about life outside the League much," he said matter-of-factly. "I’ll just... Play until it's over."
"But you'll still be in your thirties," she said, laughter in her voice. "Life is hardly over in your thirties. Most people's careers are just beginning to flourish - and you'll have a good head start on them. Money. A home. The ability to support yourself doing whatever you want."
He nodded. "I think the reason I haven't thought about it is because..." He gave a little laugh at what he was about to admit. "Because I think I'm... Scared."
"Scared?" She asked. "What do you have to be scared of?"
"I've never really had to TRY at anything. I've just... Been successful. It's scary to think of starting all over again in a field I have no idea how to succeed in. In a field where I might fail."
She thought about this for a moment. "Did I ever tell you about when I was a waitress in college?”
"Yeah," he laughed. "You said you were terrible."
She nodded. "I was. Awful. The worst waitress you've ever seen. I'd run food to the wrong tables, I'd spill things everywhere, I once accidentally poured a bottle of red wine into a guy's lap instead of into his glass because I was trying to make conversation at the same time," she shook her head. "Like truly, truly bad. But it was still one of the best jobs I've ever had. Want to know why?"
"Why?" He asked, smiling down at her and ruffling her hair affectionately. He found himself unable to stop touching her, even finding himself reaching for her in the middle of sleep, waking up with his hands on her, comforted by the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body beneath his fingertips.
She looked up at him. "Because for the very first time in my life, I was a failure. And it sucked!" She laughed. "Because I worked really hard at it - and I saw other girls who didn't work hard at it at all. They just took to it like a duck to water," she laughed. "But you know what? It made me rethink the way I thought about work. The way I thought about effort. The way I thought about what it means to be a successful person. Because a lot of these girls had no education. A lot of them didn't have any other job prospects lined up. But here, they were the successes. And I was the failure. That," she said, taking another deep sip of wine, “keeps you humble. It taught me to never, ever take my success at something for granted. And also to not be afraid of failing at something - because failing at one job taught me more about life than succeeding at all the others."
He smiled down at her. "You're good people, you know that?"
"I'm okay," she said, smiling as he leaned down to kiss her. Just as their kiss was deepening and his hands were beginning to explore her belly beneath her shirt, Julia's buzzer rang.
The two of them broke apart with a sigh. "Perfect timing, thanks Cass," Julia mumbled as she headed for the buzzer.
"Hi!" Cassie's breathless voice came through the other end.
"Hey," Julia said. "I'll buzz you up."
As Yaro turned back to his cooking, Julia disappeared into her bedroom. "Can you let her in when she gets up here? I've got to find that book," she called out to him.
"No problem," Yaro said, beginning to hum as he finished up the supper, draining the pasta and pouring the sauce over it.
A moment later, Cassie knocked at the door and he let her in.
"Hey Cass," Julia called. "I'll be out in a sec, I'm sorry. Just digging out that book for you."
"No problem! Smells good in here," she called back.
"Do you want a glass of wine?" Yaro asked, waggling the Shiraz bottle at her. Cassie's shook her head, her smile disappearing as her eyes darted back to Julia's room.
"I need to talk to you," she hissed. "It's about...” She mimed gigantic breasts and a dopey expression, mouthing ‘Sasha’.
Alarmed, Yaro's eyes widened and he gestured to her, about to speak, when Julia finally returned from her bedroom, a book clutched triumphantly in her hands.
"Hah! Knew it was around somewhere. You're going to love it," she said, walking over to hand it to Cassie and give her a kiss on the cheek. "It's such a tear-jerker."
"Oh great," Cassie said, her tone instantly normal. "Sorry to just barge in on you guys - just had a quiet night lined up and was dying to dive into a good book!"
"Don't worry about it at all," Julia smiled. "Oh, also, I wanted to ask you about outfit ideas for my interview tomorrow?"
"Oh," Cassie said, sounding slightly desperate. "I actually know exactly what you should wear. Remember that cute little brown suede pencil skirt with the white turtleneck you wore that time we had drinks after this one was an idiot?" She said, jerking her thumb towards Yaro, who shrugged, nonplussed.
"Oh my god, yes! I didn't even think of that," Julia said, smacking her forehead.
"Pair it with some tights and those knee boots. Perfect," Cassie shrugged. "Modest, but figure hugging. Just the slightest bit sexy. Ideal for an interview."
"Absolutely. You're a genius," Julia said, relief evident on her face at being able to put at least one of her worries about tomorrow to rest.
Cassie waved a hand dismissively. "Nah. And you're going to be amazing by the way.”
"Thank you," Julia said. "I'm still really nervous. Do you want a glass of wine, by the way?"
"Oh, I would but I've actually got to run," Cassie said. "But I wanted to ask Yaro if he could come down and take a look at my car - it's making a funny noise and you know," she laughed and shrugged. "I don't know anything about cars."
"Doesn't Jonathan know all about them, though?" Julia asked, confused.
Cassie froze for the slightest instant. If Yaro hadn't known she was lying, he thought, he wouldn't have been able to detect it. She really WAS a great actress.
"Yes, but it just started now," she said. "I just wanna make sure I'm not going to break down on my way home. Mind if I steal him for a second?"
"Of course," Julia said. "You don't mind taking a look, do you?" She asked Yaro.
He shrugged, smiling. "Don't know how much help I'll be, but happy to try."
"Great. I'll dish up dinner," she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
"Hope everything with the car is okay," she said, giving Cassie a hug goodbye. "Let me know how you like the book! I couldn't put it down."
"I will! Have a good night. And good luck tomorrow. Not that you need it!" Cassie called as she and Yaro left the apartment together. They walked in silence until they were in the safety of the elevator and then Cassie started talking, her words spilling out of her as if a floodgate had burst.
"Okay, so," she said. "Sasha is planning to releas
e the photo tomorrow. Apparently she found out about Julia's interview somehow - I'm guessing she knows someone at the network, since bitch knows every perv with money who's worth digging her claws into," she said. "Obviously she doesn't want Julia gaining any more notoriety than she already has. At least," she made a face, "Not that kind."
Yaro exhaled, "Okay," he said slowly, trying to take stock of the situation as quickly as possible. He strode out with Cassie to the lobby as the doors opened, lost in thought.
"You know I don't actually have a car, right?" Cassie said, stopping him at the lobby door.
He shook his head. "Right. Ok. I have something in the works. We’ll just have to speed up the timeline. And I’ll need your help. I’ll put you in touch with my friend Rhochelle. She knows Sasha, she's seen her around at a couple of events and the two of them are pretty fake friendly, if you know what I mean."
"Okay," Cassie nodded. "What did you have in mind?"
Yaro took another deep breath and let it out slowly. "How do you feel about some light lying?”
Cassie beamed up at him. “Uh, hello? Actress,” she said.
---
Julia awoke the next day at 6am and disentangled herself from Yaro's still-sleeping form, tip-toeing silently to her living room, too excited to sleep. It was interview day and she'd barely been able to sleep the night before, lying awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to Yaro snore and trying to envision each and every possible situation that might arise during the interview. What if she bombed a question? What if there were a ton of other candidates there? What if she was the only one? What if the person who was interviewing her had a huge mole she couldn't look away from? At that point she had to admit she was being ridiculous and should at least try to sleep.
Alone in the living room, she tried to do everything she could to get the day off to a peaceful start. Tea instead of coffee, a little light yoga, some positive affirmations and meditation.
This is fine, she repeated to herself inwardly. You will be fine. You can handle this.
She wasn't even going to make room for the possibility that worried her most of all - what if, somehow, the person interviewing her had seen the picture? What if Jerry had? What if it was out there floating somewhere on the Internet and she just hadn't seen it yet? What if today was the day her professional world came crashing down around her?
No, she told herself firmly. You are being ridiculous. Everything will be fine.
She repeated some version of this over and over until, at around eight, Yaro appeared from the bedroom wearing just his boxers, yawning and stumbling from sleepiness. Her eyes ran appreciatively over the fine lines of his body. She never got tired of looking at him and she wished for a moment he'd been awake earlier. Sex would have been an excellent way to work off some of her nervous energy.
"Morning sleepyhead," she said, rising up from her cross-legged position on the floor. "What are you doing up so early?"
"I wanted to be sure I saw you before you left," he yawned, reaching for her and pulling her against him. "So I could wish you good luck."
He bent down to kiss her, trying his best to remain passive. He'd done everything in his power to protect her from what might happen today.
"That's so sweet," she said, smiling up at him. "But you must be exhausted. That was a hell of a game last night."
"I am tired," he admitted. "But I wouldn't miss the chance to see you off. You having breakfast here?"
She checked the time on her phone. "No, I think I'll grab something on the way in. Too excited to cook," she said, smiling at him.
"I can make you something," he offered, starting towards the kitchen, stopped by her hand on his forearm.
"You've done enough," she said gently, giving his arm a soft squeeze. "And I'm so grateful. I don't think I could have made it through this past week without you."
"You would have been fine," he said, smiling down at her once more. "But feel free to praise me anyway."
She grinned at him. "Maybe later. Now I've got to get dressed and get going. And you..." she said, giving him another lingering kiss on the lips, deepening it until she felt him rouse - at which point she pulled away with a wicked smile. "...You have to rest."
With a laugh, he turned back to her bedroom and raised his hands. "If you say so, boss," he yawned, crawling gratefully back into the still-warm covers, feeling drowsy as Julia bustled around the room getting dressed for the day. When she was finally finished, hair and makeup put together in the bathroom, she stood before the bed.
"What do you think?"
He rolled over and cracked an eyelid open to look at her, dressed in interview gear and looking sleek, slightly sexy and professional from head to toe.
"Yes, please," he said. "You look amazing. So amazing I'd pull you back in here if you didn't have somewhere more important to be."
She sat on the edge of the bed, running her hand through his hair. "I wish I didn't. But I'll make it up to you later, I promise," she said, smiling down at him. Yaro was too big for her bed by far, his feet hanging over the edge from roughly his knees downward, making him look like a giant in a playhouse. But he never complained.
"Well then," he said, closing his eyes and smacking his lips sleepily once more. "I suppose I'd better let you go. Good luck hot stuff."
"Thank you," she said, giving him a final peck on the lips and racing to the door. "I'll call you after and let you know how it goes," she called.
"You'd better," he said as she went out the door. He waited, still in bed in case she came back in - and when he was sure she was gone for good, he sat up and reached for his phone, messaging both Cassie and Rhochelle at once in the group chat they'd been communicating through.
"All set?" He messaged.
"Aye aye cap'n," Rhochelle texted back. "You can leave it to us."
With a deep sigh, Yaro leaned back in bed and shut his eyes. He might as well get some more sleep, he figured. There was nothing more he could do for Julia now.
He just prayed he'd managed to do enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
AT TEN IN the morning, Cassie sat at the Starbucks near her building, sipping on a skinny vanilla latte and plotting revenge. How she was going to play nice when Sasha arrived was almost beyond her, but then she thought with a smirk and a flip of her hair: That's why they pay me the big bucks.
"Sorry I'm late," she heard a voice behind her and a small Filipina girl sat down at her table with a rush of energy as if she'd just sprinted here from far away. "I'm Rhochelle," she said, in case Cassie hadn't drawn the obvious conclusion. "I recognized you, sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Cassie said, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you."
"You too. Under espionage circumstances as well. How exciting. Do you have it?"
"Uh huh," Cassie said, pulling a manila envelope from her bag onto the table and carefully extracting the legal documents inside.
"A fully binding NDA drawn up by my lawyer. All we have to get her to do is sign it without reading it. Assuming you managed to get her here?"
"Yep," Rhochelle said, pulling out her phone. "She'll be here at 10:30. I told her to expect you. I said I'd met you at a party and we were doing a colab with a client of mine. A fashion designer. And that he’s looking for influencers to include. She was a little wary - I guess she knows you and Julia are friends, but I told her this was strictly business. So she bought it," Rhochelle concluded, eyeing the menu with interest. "Do they do chai here?"
"It's Starbucks," said Cassie, as if that answered the question.
"Yeah, it's uh... Not really my jam," Rhochelle confided. "But I'll take that as a 'yes'. Be right back."
As Cassie carefully thumbed through the documents, Rhochelle ordered her chai and returned to the table, blowing on it surreptitiously.
"So do you want to do the talking or shall I?" She asked, sitting down.
"You at first," Cassie said, "Since she trusts you. I'll take over when things get a little grittier. It's kind of my
specialty."
Rhochelle smiled a lopsided smile in return. "Say no more."
Then the two of them lapsed into a slightly nervous silence as they sipped on their drinks, counting down the minutes until Sasha arrived.
She was late, which they'd anticipated. When she finally swanned in the door at quarter to eleven without a word of apology, neither of them batted an eye. She was fully decked out for the day, with a full face of makeup that looked like it had been applied via trowel and a dress more suited to New Years Eve in Ibiza than Monday morning at Starbucks. She was wearing huge, Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses which took up nearly the entirety of her face and which she seemed disinclined to remove.
"Hi Rhochelle honey," she said, giving Rhochelle a kiss on either side of her cheeks. "Cassie," she said in that syrupy, excited voice women use amongst each other when they're being fake as hell, "It's so good to see you again."
"And you darling," Cassie said. "So glad you could make it."
"Of course," Sasha cooed. "I'm so glad you thought of me. And I hope there are no hard feelings. You know, about the benefit."
"Absolutely not," Cassie said promptly. "It's not personal, it's just business. If anyone understands that, it's me."
"That's what I thought," Sasha nodded appraisingly. "Which is why I'm here. So tell me - what have you got for me?"
Cassie let Rhochelle do the talking on this, running her through a social media campaign she'd dreamed up in which the three of them modeled locally made clothing by a hot new designer who was quickly rising through the ranks – and who, unbeknownst to Sasha, was a client of Rhochelle’s.
"It'll be so good to get in on the ground floor on this one," Rhochelle said. "He's super-hot - he's got a bunch of contacts for fashion week and is working on getting a show going, but he wants to reach segments of the population we all represent. And if we can all pretend to be super-hot besties," she grinned at the other two, "So much the better."