Stepping out of the shower, I grab my white plush terry cloth robe and slip it on, then wrap my hair in another towel. I walk toward my walk-in closet and go through my clothes. The dress code is pink and black, so I choose a blush pink skirt with a long-sleeved black wraparound silk top. The sleeves cut all the way down the sides and tie at the wrist in a bow. I walk back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
My long auburn hair is down to my waist, and I leave it down, curling the ends. My makeup is done dark, making my green eyes pop. The lipstick is nude, and when I slip on the pink skirt, I forget how short it is. I mean, it’s not short enough that my ass hangs out, but it’s definitely not the length that I’d wear to work. I slip on my black bra, and then slide my arms into the wraparound shirt, tying it around my waist into a bow, just like at the wrists. I make sure that I’m secured into the shirt, so no boobs slip out. I grab my YSL heels and walk over to the bed when I hear my phone ringing from the bathroom.
I get it right before it goes to voice mail, and I see it’s Jeanie, the other bridesmaid. “Hello,” I say, and I can hear the music in the background.
“Hey!” she shouts. “Just letting you know we are going to be heading to the restaurant in a couple of minutes.” They had the whole pre-party before the actual party, but I was waiting for a delivery and had to opt out of it. The truth be told, I wasn’t in the mood, and I knew that Stephanie understood.
“Perfect,” I say. “I’m slipping on my shoes right now, so I should be there in about thirty minutes.”
“Sounds good,” she says. “I’ll text you when we get there.” She hangs up, and I slip my foot into my shoe. The strap goes over my toes and then ties around my ankle. Once both shoes are on, I take a final look in the mirror, then grab the matching YSL purse and order an Uber.
I remember to spritz my perfume right before he gets here. Walking out of the house, I feel the warm air on my legs, and the wind is blowing just a bit. I get into the car, saying hello to the driver, and I scroll through Instagram while we make our way downtown.
I see pictures from the pre-party, and I smile when I see that we are all practically dressed the same. Only Stephanie is dressed in white. She has a rose-gold sash around her that says “Bride-to-be.”
I finish applying my lipstick right before the Uber comes to a stop. Opening the door, I thank him. As I walk toward the front door, a black Range Rover parks in valet, and I can see a man walking around the SUV. When my phone beeps in my hands, I glance down at it and then look up to see the door in front of me. I’m reaching out to open the door when a massive hand covers mine, and I look up into the most intense blue eyes I’ve ever seen. His brown hair looks like he just ran his hands through it. “I’m sorry,” he says in his deep voice. His plump lips are surrounded by a beard.
I look down at our hands holding the door. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t even watching where I was going,” I say, and both our hands fall from the door. “My phone rang, and I should have been paying attention to where I was going.” I look up at him and notice not only how tall he is but also how he fills out his suit. His white button-down shirt isn’t buttoned all the way to the top, and you can see a bit of ink coming out from his collar.
“Please,” he says, putting out his hand, and I open the door. He grasps the top of the door to hold it open, and I feel him at my back.
“Thank you,” I say over my shoulder, and he just nods at me. I walk to the hostess, whose eyes light up as soon as she sees the guy behind me, and I want to roll my eyes. I get it, he’s hot and handsome, and he smells good from what I can tell.
“Mr. Stevenson,” the woman says before I even start to talk. “I have your key right here.” She hands him a white envelope, and he takes it from her, holding it in his hand.
“I don’t have a key,” I say to the hostess. “I’m not sure if I should or not.” I laugh, looking over to him and seeing him chuckle now. “At least I wasn’t told I needed a key.”
“I think only the cool kids get the keys,” he says, finally smiling at me.
“Is that it? I’m definitely not a part of that club.” I look from him to the woman still ogling him. “I’m here with the party under the name Stephanie,” I say before I’m forgotten while she takes care of the guy behind me. I look down at my phone. “They are in the back,” I say, looking over her to see if I see them. When I spot them, I hold up my hand when Jeanie looks over at me. “I found them.” I look over at the man. “Guess I can get in without the key.” I laugh. “Have a great night.”
“You, too,” he says. “Find me if you get stuck and need a key,” he jokes, and I walk away from the hostess stand, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.
Chapter 3
Manning
“Find me if you get stuck and need a key,” I try to joke with her, and she throws her head back and laughs. Looking toward the back and walking away from the hostess stand, I’m not even going to pretend that I’m not watching her.
My tongue almost hit the ground when I grabbed the door handle at the same time as she did. I saw her walking, but all I could see was her legs. Her tan legs in those shoes were suddenly the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen a woman wear. I thought she was going to stop, but she didn’t, and we both reached for the door at the same time. Then she looked up at me, and my feet were stuck on the ground as if I wore concrete boots. Her green eyes popped, and her auburn hair looked almost as if it were silk.
“Um, Mr. Stevenson,” the hostess says, blinking her eyes, and I look at her. “If you will follow me, I will show you to your table.” I nod, looking back at where I saw her disappear. She’s hugging girls now, and her smile lights up her whole face. I turn back and follow the hostess as she leads me past the busy bar area. The brown granite bar has glass shelves behind it lined with bottles and decorated with hanging lights. I see a couple of people look over at me, and some recognize me. The guys always nod, and the women stare. We walk past the glass wine cellar, containing bottles and bottles of wine stacked all the way to the top. She stops next to it and opens the glass door. “This is the private room,” the hostess says, and I nod as I walk in.
“Manning.” One of the guys gets up from the round table and walks over to me. “Good to see you.”
“Andrew.” I put my hand out to shake his. Andrew is the CEO of Hauer, a company he started ten years ago. “Nice to see you.”
“Thank you for coming,” he says. “I know you hate doing these things.”
With a laugh, I put my hands in my pockets and look out the glass door at all the tables being set up and taken. This is the place to be on a Saturday night. It helps that the tables are cleared off at ten to make way for the dance floor. There is another bar right outside our private area. “I don’t hate them.” I chuckle. “I just prefer not to do them.” It is no secret that I am super private. I don’t do Instagram, I don’t do Facebook, and I don’t do Snapchat. Basically, I don’t do anything on social media. I have a Facebook page that Candace, my social media girl, handles. If I have to be honest, the only reason I have it is for my sponsors. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t even be on there.
“Let me introduce you to the team,” he says, pointing at the other guys sitting at the table, and I nod my head as he makes the introductions. I listen to them talk and then look over to see if I spot her sitting at her table. I keep looking over, trying to find her, and finally, I do. Smiling, I shake the men’s hands and turn when the door opens. Miller walks in with Ralph behind him.
I stand aside with my hands in my pockets as Andrew introduces them to the guys I just met. I take the time to look over at the table of ten girls. They’re holding up their glasses of champagne now, and they toast what I think is a bride. I mean, she’s wearing a veil and a sash. She sits at the end of the table facing where I am, so I see her laugh now with her head thrown back before she drinks the whole glass. She then snaps her fingers and dances, stopping when the waiters come over to her, and she orders something from him
. He smiles at her and then walks away, and I watch him go to the computer. He talks to another waiter and motions to the table with his chin. I know exactly what he’s saying.
“Have you been here long?” Miller says from beside me, and I look over at him.
“A couple of minutes,” I tell him with a shrug. “Did you guys drive here together?” I ask, meaning him and Ralph, and Miller nods his head.
“I dropped off Layla at their house, and I’ll pick her up on the way there.” Miller was the most sought-after NHL star that there was. He was on the cover of GQ, and he had women flock over to him. But he had his sights set on Layla for forever, and when she finally caved and bought a date with him at the charity auction, it was only a matter of time until he made her fall for his charm.
“Would you like something to drink?” I hear the waitress, who must have come in when we were talking, ask me.
“I’ll have a soda water with lime,” I say, and she nods her head. Miller and Ralph, who just joined us, order the same. I’m not a drinker, to begin with, but I stick to a clean diet during the season.
“I’ve never been here,” Ralph says, looking around, and Miller laughs at him.
“Why am I not surprised?” Miller says, shaking his head.
“Is this your old stomping ground?” Ralph asks him. I take a second to look back at her, which makes me all confused. Why do I care where she is? Why do I suddenly want to know her name? I’m not going to lie; as a professional athlete, I am surrounded by women all the time. Women who just want to say they fucked an NHL player and don’t care if you’re married or not. I see it all the time—players who have a girl waiting in every city. I haven’t been with anyone in four years. Four fucking years but no one would believe me if I told them. Only five people know about Murielle’s and my true relationship—Ralph, Miller, Candace, Nico, and Becca.
“I’ve been here a couple of times,” Miller says. “What’s cool is that on the weekends, they have a DJ that comes in, and they transform an outdoor seating area into a dance floor. Those tables over there”—he points— “slowly start to move, and this whole place becomes a dance floor. The booths on the end stay, but you have to pay extra to be in there.” He points at where the redhead is seated. “It’s a fun place.”
Andrew comes over to us. “Before we start, can we get a picture of the three of you?”
“Sure,” Ralph says and looks at me. “I have to put this picture up on Instagram, or Candace will have my ass.” He mentions his wife, the social media expert.
I stand in the middle as the captain with my two assistants flanking me. “This is the first time in our company’s history that we have the captain and his assistants both working with us.”
He snaps a couple of pictures and puts it on Instagram with the tagline:
Making History
“Shall we sit down?” Andrew says once he finishes with his phone. I walk over to the table, grabbing a seat with a view of the restaurant. That’s not normal for me. I usually like to sit with my back to everyone, so no one can snap my picture without me knowing.
“Since when do you want to look out?” Miller says, sitting next to me.
I don’t answer him before I shrug and sit down. The waitress comes back with our drinks, and I take it, but then look back over at her. Why am I so curious about her? Every single time I look over at her, she’s laughing about something, and it lights up her whole face. “What’s up with you?”
I look over at Miller. “You’ve been acting weird since we got here.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, taking another sip of the water. “I’m fine.”
“You seem distracted,” Ralph says. “Is everything okay at home?”
“Well, if you’re asking me if Murielle is still there, the answer is yes.” I stop talking when the waitress comes over and takes our orders.
As the waitress opens the glass door to leave, I notice the music is now playing, and the sound is getting louder.
Conversation during the meal centers on how we can better the equipment they have for us. The developers all take notes of the things we want done. “I would like for my stick to be just a touch lighter,” I say, and they all look at me.
“You hold the record of the hardest shot from the All-Star game last year,” Miller says.
“One hundred and eight point five,” Ralph says, eating a piece of his steak. “You broke Karlson’s ankle last year when he tried to block the shot.”
I laugh. “That was not my fault. Who gets in the way? That’s what they have a goalie for.”
“You play defense,” Miller says.
“Yeah, and Karlson was playing forward. Would you get in the way of a puck?” I ask, and they shake their heads.
“I mean, not yours,” Miller says, laughing. “No way in hell would I even attempt that. But with anyone else, I don’t see the danger. You broke the Jones stick with that one-timer,” he says, talking about the time I took a shot and the goalie tried to block it with his stick. The part that got in the way of the puck broke off.
“Anyway.” I roll my eyes. “Last year, my stick was good, but if we can get it just a touch more flexible, I think it would be the stick to beat.”
“I’m going to test a couple of things out this week in the lab,” the man, whose name I think is Daniel, but I’m not sure, says. “I’ll have a couple of samples available within the next two weeks.”
“I wouldn’t mind a couple of samples,” Miller says, and the rest of the meal is spent talking about things he would like to have done for him. I only notice the outside once I look up. The lights have been dimmed now, and some of the tables have been moved.
I start to panic when I don’t see her, which makes me even more confused. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the need to talk to someone like this before. When I spot her, I see that she is still laughing, and she is drinking a glass of wine. From the looks of it, the table is having the best time. Someone must have said something really funny because the redhead hits the table, and I swear I can hear her laughter. Something inside me clicks; I just don’t know what it is.
Chapter 4
Evelyn
I take a sip of my wine and set the glass down next to my plate. I am the first to admit that this night is becoming one of my favorite nights in the longest time. It could also be the champagne and the wine talking.
When I got here, I was forced to put on a penis necklace. “We better be getting cheesecake for dessert.” I look over at Jeanie, who downs another glass of wine. “Oh, or apple pie with ice cream.”
“You just ate two appetizers, and then your whole meal, plus the extra mac and cheese you ordered.”
“It had lobster in it,” I say. “One does not say no to mac and cheese with lobster.”
She throws her head back and laughs. One of the bridesmaids clinks the glass with her spoon. “If I can have everyone’s attention,” she says, and I take a sip of my wine. “We are going to go around the table …” She has to shout to even be heard over the music being played in the restaurant. I look around to see that some of the tables have been moved, making way for a dance floor.
Looking out the back window, I see the outdoor space is filled with hanging lights, providing a soft glow to the garden of greenery all around. The DJ is set up at the corner on a stage of sorts. They have booths outside where people sit and drink, but some are up and dancing already. I get my glass of wine and take another sip, then turn my attention back to the other bridesmaid as she sits down.
“What did I miss?” I ask Jeanie, who leans in and whispers.
“No fucking clue, I was watching one of the waiters.” I look over at the guy she is trying to eye fuck, and I suddenly think back to the blue eyes I’ve been thinking about this whole time.
I mean, I’ve been thinking about them and then forcing myself not to. When I walked away from him, I felt his eyes on me. Only when I got to my table and went to say hello and hug Jeanie did I look back at the door a
nd see that he was, in fact, looking at me. I turned back two seconds later, and he was gone. I searched the restaurant, but I can’t find him anywhere. I mean, I can’t find him in my part of the restaurant, but he could still be on the other side. Or maybe he’s in a special part of the restaurant that you need the key for. I grab my glass of wine and take a sip, putting it down.
“I have to go pee,” I say, grabbing my purse and scooting out of the bench seat. Luckily, I’m on the end.
“I can come with,” Jeanie says, and I shake my head.
“No, I’ll be fine,” I say, smiling at her. My heart is extremely light from all the smiling and laughing I’ve done tonight. I forgot all about moving away and why I had to move back. Being with my friends feels like I never left. I walk back to the front and look around for signs to the bathroom. I can’t find any, and when our waiter spots me, he comes over.
“Can I help you with anything?” he says with a smile. He’s been blatantly hitting on me all night. “I told you before that your wish is my command.”
I smile and look down, my hair falling to the front. “That is very kind of you,” I say as I tuck the hair behind my ear. “I’m just looking for the bathroom.”
“Follow me this way.” He turns and walks toward where the hostess was. The restaurant is packed, and I have to zigzag with him as we turn and pass a huge glass wine cellar. I finally spot the dark hallway.
I look to my right and spot my table. “I guess I took the long way,” I tell him as we pass the bar. “Thank you,” I tell him. Walking toward the darkened hallway, I pass the guys’ bathroom and then open the door to the women’s.
Two women walk out. “They play for the Dallas Oilers. Their captain is sex on a stick,” one of them says as I move aside for them to walk. Their hips sway a little bit too much, but they are both almost six-foot, so I guess they can pull off walking like they are on the catwalk. Entering the bathroom, I see a woman sitting down next to a table with everything you think you’ll need. I smile at her and walk to one of the stalls, going in and sitting down. When I finish and get up, I do my drunk test. If I can still touch my nose without giggling, then I’m good to drink a bit more. I want to be tipsy, just not drunk.
Only One Night (Only One Series 3) Page 2