by Amber Malloy
After he’d been dumped on the steps of a church, very few things had been consistent in his life. No one had wanted to adopt the half-Black mutt. The best he could have hoped for was an orphanage bid instead of the foster home bounce around that most of the unwanted kids received. Besides meeting the infamous Gavin Knox, the one thing that had never changed for Hawk was the ice.
The arena was his sanctuary.
While Drake’s Nice For What blared over the arena’s sound system from his cell phone, Hawk sailed around Lexi on the freshly cleaned ice.
“How you doing?” He made a sharp turn, skated toward her at breakneck speed and waved at the custodians who had let them into Lockton University’s ice skating rink.
“Amazed at the graceful ass polar bear trying to kill me.” Big puffs of air escaped her mouth. Shavings of ice flew off to the side of his skates as he glided to a stop in front of her.
“Hey.” He laughed at Lexi. The coat the maintenance man had let her borrow dwarfed her slender frame.
“Full disclosure… I don’t know how to ice skate.” Since it took a ridiculous amount of coaching to get her onto the ice, he wasn’t the least bit surprised.
“From where I’m standing, you look like a pro.”
“What the hell made you do this for a living? I mean hello…football?” she asked.
He held her hands and skated slowly backward. Worse than a toddler, Lexi fumbled along.
“Wow, you sound like Dre—and trust me, that’s not a compliment.”
Lexi snorted out a laugh. “It seems like the same amount of risk factors minus the lethal death blades I’m trying to balance on.”
First-time adult skaters usually fought with fists and elbows not to go out onto the ice. Hawk was amazed that she at least gave it a shot. “Hockey careers may cost the players a tooth or—”
“An eye?” she offered.
“But there’s far less risk involved. The damage on the body is minimal compared to the NFL.” Keeping a tight hold onto her hands, he did a small turn. Lexi stumbled over her skates, but he didn’t let her fall. There was no way he could.
“Not to call bullshit on the risk stats, but that doesn’t sound like a good reason.”
“In Canada, you come out of the womb playing hockey. I had to be bigger, better and faster than everyone else to even make it on my junior high team.”
“Because…”
“Seriously, did Dre give you a set of questions to ask me?” He glided to a stop and held her steady. “I’m black and an orphan. Hockey wasn’t cheap. I had to be the best to even be considered worthy of charity. Hand-me-down skates and equipment were part of my life for a long time.” Immersed into silence from the sudden absence of music, they stared at one another until Miguel’s Simple Things filled the air.
“Is it worth it?” she asked.
Lost in the way her delicate features made her appear closer to a magical fairy than manager of a blues bar, he missed her question.
“Huh?”
“Being a Black male figure skater with a hockey stick… Is it worth it?”
Refusing to let her off the hook, he pierced her with the classic raised eyebrow, his signature move in a game. His opponent often didn’t know what happened after he hit them with the brow.
“Okay, that one I did get from Dre,” Lexi confessed with a chuckle.
He slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her. Nose to nose with her, Hawk gazed into her beautiful brown eyes, amber flakes mingling with the darker tones.
“Relax,” he told her.
“The ice dancer remark was just a joke.” She pouted.
Incapable of holding back any longer, Hawk brought Lexi’s lips to his and delivered her a deep, penetrating kiss. She opened her mouth slightly to allow the hot heat of her tongue to meld against his.
As he glided on the ice with the beauty in his arms, he doubled down on his belief that his crush was not only better than attraction but kicked the shit out of his hot-ass lust for Lexington Waters any day of the week.
Chapter Sixteen
Lexi was no longer used to early morning appointments. She hadn’t answered emails from SugarTech for months. Whatever bugs that had found their way onto their apps or codes that needed small tweaks were no longer her problem. At Moe’s, her life consisted of last calls that far exceeded two a.m. closing times and barely a noon wake-up time.
Summoned to the law offices of Cooper and Shields first thing in the morning, she’d stopped at the local coffee house. The law firm SugarTech had hired already claimed the home field advantage. Why should she allow them to waterboard her with shitty beverages on top of that?
Lexi entered the high rise building five minutes to the hour and stepped off the elevator close to a minute past. Ten seconds late at the most, she opened the door.
“Practically on time,” she cheered at her lawyer, Maureen, who met her in the lobby.
“Almost isn’t good enough,” Maureen shot back.
Resisting the urge to cuss her out, Lexi held up an extra cup of coffee.
“Humph,” Maureen grunted, accepting her peace offering. “Quick question.” She turned on her heels and walked toward the conference room. “Did we make friends in Chicago?”
“Excuse me?”
Maureen narrowed her unreadable dark eyes at her, then shook her head. “Respond to questions with a yes or a no. Do not expound unless asked and try to keep that vague. Okay?” She stared her down with an icy glare.
Why the fuck did I hire this woman?
“Okay,” Lexi responded through clenched teeth. She stepped past her into the empty room and took a seat across from the window. At least she would have something to look at when she mentally tapped out.
Opposing council piled in, slowly filling every available seat. Six against two didn’t seem fair, but what did Lexi know? She was merely a developer… Correction, bartender. Everyone waited for the stenographer to take her place in the back of the room.
SugarTech’s lead council beamed at them. “Good morning, ladies.”
Maureen didn’t utter a single word. Instead, her lawyer stared death rays, while she robotically sipped her coffee. Unsure what the hell was happening, Lexi remained silent.
“Information has come to our attention that your client violated her morality agreement with SugarTech. Thankfully for her sake, SugarTech decided to be generous and would like to offer Ms. Waters a hefty severance package.”
“For her own company,” Maureen snorted. “I would think not.”
“The evidence we have compiled to submit to the judge will—”
“My client didn’t travel over two thousand miles to put any faith into you or your clients. Please”—she twirled her index finger in a bored fashion for him to continue—“present the evidence.”
“Fine…” The slick lawyer her ex-husband had hired to represent SugarTech reached across the table and pushed a button on the phone in front of him. Uncharacteristically nervous, Lexi crossed her legs at the calf and fidgeted with her cup lid.
“How are you enjoying our weather? I bet it beats those Midwest storms,” opposing council asked with a cheesy grin.
Lexi opened her mouth, but Maureen huffed out a heavy sigh, speaking volumes without actual words.
Moments later, the secretary led a super familiar looking woman into the conference room. Jugs girl number one stepped into the office with the smuggest expression on her overly made-up face. Someone is an obvious graduate of clown college. Lexi chuckled at her dig, quickly masking her fumble behind a fake cough.
“State your name for the record,” Mr. Reichlen said.
After Juggy number one made sure she was the focus of everyone’s attention, she sat up straight with her ginormous boobs pushed out. “Dawn Sweeten,” she cooed.
“Please recall the events of November fifth in Chicago, Illinois.”
Lexi shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Sure, me and my team—”
“Te
am?” SugarTech’s lawyer asked.
“A group of five woman who go out to bars, parties and conventions to supply Juggermeir beers at events. On the night of November fifth, this woman”—she pointed her finger at Lexi—“and her gang ripped my phone out of my hand and stole it.”
“That’s a violation of Ms. Waters’ probation.” Mr. Reichlin grinned.
“Interesting.” Maureen flipped through a folder in front of her. “Miss—”
“Sweeten,” the Jugs girl gleefully provided.
“Was this event you attended scheduled through JMeister Enterprises, Ms. Sweeten?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did Juggermeir beer send you to a Mr. Larsson’s event to promote their product?”
“Uh…” The boob girl turned her head toward SugarTech’s lawyer. For the briefest of moments, the man closed his eyes before he nodded for her to answer. “It wasn’t booked through the promotions manager, if that’s what you’re asking.” She petered off to a thin whisper.
“Well, according to the JMeister’s Enterprises, their sales staff can only attend events authorized by their corporate office.” Maureen put her finger on the top sheet of paper from the folder and slid it across the glass table. “Any appearance made by Jugs girls wearing the uniform or supplying alcohol to minors is a terminable offense that can also be punishable by a fine and or imprisonment.”
As Lexi’s lawyer ran down all the ways tits-big-boobies was screwed, all the color drained from her face.
“Now, if you would like to recount the night of November fifth from the minute you entered eighteen-year-old Mr. Larsson’s condo…”
Maureen took out a pen and clicked it off and on off with a delirious, psychotic giddiness.
“I, uh…I, uh…” Instead of recalling that evening’s events, Ms. Sweeten stumbled over her words, “I don’t remember, actually.”
The SugarTech’s lawyer uncomfortably cleared his throat and pushed away from the table. “Let’s take a five-minute break.” He stood up. Everyone followed him to the door. “Hey, you.” He snapped at the beer girl, then hitched his thumb outside of the room. “Let’s go.”
The Jugs idiot jerked at the reprimand before rising from her seat and following him. SugarTech’s lawyer shut the door, only leaving the stenographer, Maureen and Lexi alone. Super confused, she kept her mouth closed.
They sat in silence until the opposing council minus one Jugs girl returned.
“Where were we?” Mr. Reichlin pulled back his chair with a smile.
“Triple G implants was telling us how you wasted our time coming here.”
SugarTech’s lawyer arrogantly flipped his tie with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, Ms. Wendt, your client has supplied us with ample material. Screen, please.” A television dropped down from the ceiling.
“Fancy,” Lexi muttered as another familiar face filled the screen and waved.
“Hello! Hi,” the college girl greeted them.
“Dammit,” Lexi muttered under her breath.
“This is Aimee Shaw. She was unable to fly into the city this afternoon. We’ll be using video phone for the deposition,” Mr. Reichlin explained. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Shaw. On the night of November fifth, you gathered at Moe’s Blues Bar and had your phone stolen by one Lexington Waters.”
“By who?” The sober college student seemed even more ditzy than she had on the night in question. Lexi cleared her throat to hide her chuckle behind her hand.
“The manager of the bar…” Mr. Reichlin waited for the girl to reply. “In this room, the manager who stole your phone and used it without your permission.”
“Sorry.” She squinted closer to her computer screen. “I don’t see her.”
Dropping his head back, Mr. Reichlin drew a deep breath. “Please take another look, Ms. Shaw.”
“Asked and answered,” her lawyer sang.
“No, Meghan the Stallion’s the one who stole my phone. She had red hair, yay tall.” She held her hand over her head. “Really cool. She gave us free drinks and everything, but I don’t see her.”
With dramatic flair, Maureen slammed her folder shut. “This has been terribly fun.” She reached down and grabbed her purse. “Ms. Waters.”
Lexi quickly gathered her belongings. Hurrying out of the conference room, she passed the office cubicles, practically running to catch up with Maureen, who had already made it into the elevators.
As the doors were closing, Lexi shoved her hand in the slit, forcing them back open. Did the bitch roll her eyes? Taking her place beside her, Maureen stabbed the lobby button over and over until the doors slid shut.
Nervously tapping her foot up and down, Lexi didn’t want the awkward silence to overwhelm her but she refused to speak first. Ever since childhood, pregnant pauses filled with fucked-up energy resulted in crazy shit flying out of her mouth.
When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, she followed Maureen out of the cab, crossing the shiny, tiled floor alongside her. How much money am I paying for this woman to ignore me?
“They have nothing on you, which means your position at SugarTech is solid,” Maureen said, digging into her purse.
“Is that what you got from that?” They stopped in front of her lawyer’s overpriced car while she pulled her keys out.
“My professional opinion is they have doo-doo, crap, nada, which means all you have to do is stay out of trouble for more than five minutes.” She pressed her car alarm, then opened her door. “Or at least until your next court date…then we’ll go after your board.” Without a decent exchange of pleasantries or even a measly goodbye, Maureen hopped into her car and slammed the door shut in Lexi’s face.
Chapter Seventeen
All those hard-earned, warm fuzzies that had come with her much-needed victory dissipated faster than those frigid Chicago vapors could freeze the dirt in the air.
Snow, snow and more snow greeted her in Chicago. It should have been her first hint of the bad previews to come. Los Angeles may not have offered her much, but it certainly hadn’t supplied her with fat snowflakes that drifted from the sky, changing the trajectory of her day.
Lexi’s plane touched down to craptastic weather shortly past noon. Since travel had been at a crawl, it took over an hour for her to get to Moe’s.
She stood in the midst of a worse shit storm than the one raging outside. Moe’s automatic patio window she’d installed last summer was shattered into tiny little pieces on the wood floor.
“It looks like there was some glitch,” the fireman screamed over the high-pitched wail of the alarm. “But check around to see if anything’s missing.”
“The sprinklers went off in the supply room but nowhere else,” Simone told him. Lexi’s phone rang in her coat, cutting off her answer. She’d switched the whole system over in the bar, except for the storage room.
Apparently, her win in California hadn’t flipped her luck toward the better. The minute she’d stepped through Moe’s door and comprehended the damage, a swampy fog took over in her head. Lexi dug in her pocket for her phone. Even though her brain begged her to disappear into her shitty apartment to get drunk off old Dr. Who episodes and pizza, she continued the very painful act of adulting.
“Hello.” A glass of merlot obviously was too much to ask.
“Hey, I need a favor.” Hawk’s husky voice sliced through the thunder of hate working its way into her soul. It had been a while since she’d encountered this type of rage. The last time she allowed it to take hold, she had gone to jail.
“Okay,” Lexi said with an even tone, making sure to keep the crazy-person quiver down to a minimum. “What’s up?”
“It will be a couple of days before I can get home, and the kid I use to water my plants is unavailable.”
Lexi spun slowly on her heels and headed for the big hole in the window. One of the busboys had mopped the sludge from the incoming snow while her waiter tried to cover the damage with a wood board.
As the strange circus
of stupid went on in the bar, several of the regulars huddled across the street.
“Hold a sec, Hawk. Excuse me?” she called out to the fireman who seemed to be doing more flirting with Simone than investigating. “Can we use the kitchen?” He nodded tersely before turning his attention back to her bartender. “If I recall correctly, you don’t have any plants.” Using her back, she shoved the swinging door open.
“Maybe you didn’t see them,” he chuckled, throaty and low.
“Let me guess… You heard about the alarm glitch?” Lexi threw up quotation marks with her mind since her hands couldn’t manage it at the moment.
“Glitch?” His voice went up. “What happened?”
Lexi smirked. If nothing else, this man was a sweetheart. “Okay, we’ll pretend no one called and told you that my front window is broken and my alarm has gone haywire. What makes you think I’m going to stay at your house?” Placing her hand on Peaches’ shoulder, she requested a pot of the woman’s famous hot chocolate. Since everything Moe’s chef made was awesome, Lexi decided to put famous in front of everything the woman created.
“Sure thing, honeybee.”
Eternally grateful that Peaches had stayed on at Moe’s well past her retirement date, she kissed the cook’s pretty, round cheek and went back to the main room.
“To be clear”—she pushed the swinging door open and crossed the bar—“I don’t need charity, and I most certainly don’t need to be saved.” Lexi had fallen for that bag of tricks once before and she wouldn’t do it again—not by any man, but mainly not this sexy mutha fucka.
“The thought never crossed my mind,” he purred in her ear. “I merely want my plants to still be alive when I get home, and honestly, you’re the most responsible person I know.”
“Wow, that’s a bald-faced lie if I’ve ever heard one.” Lexi stood in front of Moe’s front door. The furious snowflakes that had made her afternoon that much harder to deal with had finally petered out. “Off the top of my head, I can count three of your closest friends who could do a better job than me.” She tapped on the glass pane and signaled for the regulars to join her. They stepped off the stoop across the street then hurried toward the bar.