My humiliation knows no end.
I raise my hand. “Mr. Stroker.”
“Yes, Violet.”
“Can we change the slide to something that isn’t me with my tongue in Alex’s mouth, please?”
He glances over. “Oh. Right. I was making a point.”
“I think it’s made.”
“You two, go to my office and wait there. I’ll deal with you when we’re done in here.” Stroker waves them out.
Jimmy and Dean trip over each other to escape. I have no idea what the damn point of that was.
“Well, this has to be the most entertaining financial meeting I’ve ever attended.” Bunny flips her hair over her shoulder and gives me what should be a smile, but her lips hardly move. I wonder what it’s like getting a blow job from her.
We spend the next half hour talking informally, and not about mouth-fucking. As excited as I am, this is a huge responsibility. It also comes with a significant incentive. Big accounts mean more money. I get one percent of whatever I make for the Darcys, and when I’m handling more than thirty million dollars, that adds up. Nothing like what Alex makes, but it’s way more than I’m making now.
Bunny hugs me again on their way out. “When Alex is feeling up to it, let us know and we’ll do dinner. And if you want to get together and have some girl time—you know, facials, Botox, bra shopping, stuff like that—just call!”
“Of course. Thanks so much.” I try not to read anything into it. I’m sure she just wants to be friends. And even if the rumors aren’t a load of BS, Buck said he doubted the Darcys would stick their noodles in the team pool anyway.
“We hockey wives have to stick together.” Bunny winks at me again. Maybe it’s a tic.
She called me a hockey wife. It’s starting to sink in what that really means. It’s more than changing my name from Hall, which makes me sound like the location of a low-budget horror movie, to Waters, which turns it into a sweet romance.
It’s going to mean moving around if Alex changes teams, and possibly more than once when he eventually changes his entire career. He’s already twenty-six. I know the stats on hockey careers and their longevity. It’s my job to know that information so I can help these guys plan for their futures. It’s surreal to think he’s approaching the end of his first career when I’ve barely started mine.
Stroker pats my shoulder once the elevator doors close behind the Darcys. “You did a great job, Violet, even with the tongue pictures.”
“Thanks.”
“You should get some lunch, or maybe go home for the rest of the day. You’re probably exhausted.”
“Are you sure?” I’m totally done. I didn’t realize how much energy this whole office experience was going to take.
“Positive. I know this thing with Alex has been tough on you. That you even came in to do this today is commendable.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and jingles his keys, regarding me carefully. “You know some of our senior team do a lot of their work from home, and based on what you’ve managed to accomplish while you’ve been out of the office—and dealing with everything else—I think that could work for you, if it’s something you’re interested in.”
“Uhh…” This is exactly what Alex has been asking for, which makes me suspicious. “Did Alex call you or something?”
Stroker purses his lips. It makes him look like he’s sucking on a lemon. “Why would Alex call me?”
“I don’t know. No reason.”
“Anyway, you think about it, and we can talk later. I’m going to go deal with Dumb and Dumber.”
“Oh, God, I forgot they were waiting in your office! What are you going to do to them?” I ask.
“Make them review all the files from the Phillips account.”
“There’s a whole room of boxes dedicated to that account.”
Stroker smiles. It’s very Joker-scary. “Exactly.”
“That’ll take weeks.”
“Yup. And they’ll be too busy to play any more juvenile pranks.”
“Good point.”
His creepo smile fades. “All right. You go find Charlene and tell her she can take an extended lunch break with you.” He turns to walk away again.
I suddenly feel like I’m getting special treatment I don’t deserve. “Mr. Stroker?”
“Hmm?” He glances over his shoulder.
“Why are you giving me all these extra privileges?”
He laughs. “You don’t know?”
“Because I’m engaged to Alex and you don’t want to lose his account?”
“You really just say it like it is, don’t you?”
“Unfortunately, yeah.” I can feel the giraffe spots appearing on my neck.
He pulls his keys out of his pocket and twirls them around on his finger. “It’s not Alex’s account I need. It’s you.”
“I don’t—what?”
“I’ve been dealing with professional athletes for a long time, Violet. Don’t forget my dad was pro. Being married to one of these guys is a full-time job. You’re brilliant with numbers. I haven’t seen you make a bad decision yet when it comes to managing Miller’s account, or any of the other ones I’ve handed you, so if being flexible buys me more time with you as a member of my team, that’s how I’m going to play it.”
I don’t even know what to say. I mean, I know I’m good at what I do, but coming from Stroker—who is definitely not an ego stroker—this means an awful lot. I open my mouth to speak, but all I make is a sound that’s kind of like a whine. I start to tear up.
He waves a hand in my direction. “Okay, you’re gonna get emotional, and that’s not my area. Go find Charlene and have some lunch. We’ll talk next week.”
“Okay,” I choke out as he rushes down the hall, away from my teary reaction to his niceness.
I dab at my eyes with the back of my sleeve and text Charlene, asking her to meet me in the foyer with my coat and purse so I don’t have to deal with anyone else. Less than two minutes later, she comes speedwalking around the corner and almost slams into me.
“How’d it go? Are you crying? What happened?” She jabs the down button on the elevator frantically.
“I got the account.”
“Are these tears of happiness then?” She rummages around in her purse and pulls out a shredded tissue. Then she tries to blot my face with it.
“What’re you doing? Did you blow your nose with that?” I shield my face with my hands.
“No!” She inspects the tissue. “At least I don’t think so. But seriously, why are you crying?”
“I’ll explain when we’re eating.” The elevator doors open. There are people inside, so we smile politely and don’t say anything until we’re on the street.
“So you got the account, but what? Did something happen with Alex? Is he okay?”
“Alex is fine. At least I think he is.” I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and check my phone, to make sure.
I have six new messages from him. There are lots of kissy faces and emoticons with heart eyes. He’s also discovered how to make a jizzing penis out of the alternate symbols, as well as boobs.
“Alex is fine.” I show her my phone.
“Are those boobs?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s between them?”
“A dick, I think.”
“Right. Okay. He must be feeling better then.”
“Yeah.” I pocket my phone. I want to tell him in person that I got the account.
“So if Alex is okay and you got the account, why the tears? Are you PMSing? Wait. Oh my God, are you pregnant?”
“Seriously, Charlene?”
“Sorry. Jimmy’s been watching a lot of bad reality TV and then giving me a play-by-play of the episodes at lunch. I really miss you.” She side-hugs me. “So you’re definitely not pregnant?”
“No.”
“Okay, great, because I think we need drinks.”
We’re seated immediately. The host knows me, not just because we eat
here at least once a week, but also because of Alex. We order drinks and then haul ass to the buffet.
Once we’re back at our table, Charlene returns to asking questions. “So you got the account, and you’re happy about that, right?”
I shove a dumpling in my mouth and nod while I chew. “Definitely happy. Nervous because it’s a big deal, but happy.” I give her the rundown, including the shitshow with the DTF mouth-fucking slides.
A forkful of noodles unravels on to the table. “Oh my God.”
“Yeah.”
“How did the Darcys react?”
“Well, Mitch has seen me mostly naked and heard me come, so, you know, it could’ve been worse.”
“What about Bunny?”
“She didn’t seem too concerned about my tongue in Alex’s mouth.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“Yeah. Definitely. She was really nice, offering to do lunch and Botox, or whatever.”
“I love that lunch and botulism are a thing.” Charlene pulls a face.
“Right? But she seems nice, despite that. I’m having a hard time getting past the swinger rumor, though. I keep examining her motives.”
“I honestly think Jimmy was being an asshole, but I can find out for you.” She picks up her phone and types away.
“What’re you doing?”
“Asking Darren.” Her phone rings, so she answers it. “I’m having lunch with Violet right now, so that’s not possible… I can’t excuse myself for a minute… Mmm-hmm. I understand that, and I’m okay with it.” She starts playing with the pearl necklace under her infinity scarf. “Yes, Darren. Which pink one? But I thought—of course. Right. I definitely want to be ready for that.” She touches the back of her hand to her cheek. “My question? Oh. I thought so. Thanks, sexy.”
She ends the call and sets her phone on the table, staring into space.
“Char?” I wave a hand in front of her face.
She snaps out of whatever trance she’s in. “Huh?”
“To swing or not to swing?”
“Oh, right. Darren says no; he doesn’t think it’s true.”
“But he doesn’t know for sure?”
“You can never be a hundred percent on anything, but he’s been playing with the guy for a long time, so he’s pretty confident.”
“Okay. That’s good. I’m still not sure I want to go to the spa with Bunny. I kind of like that my face moves.”
“Good point. Anyway, Alex is doing better?”
“Physically for sure. He’s still uncomfortable, but the bruises are healing, and he’s not walking like he belongs in an old folks’ home, so that’s a plus. He doesn’t really like needing to be taken care of, though. He gets frustrated.”
“He’s not really one to sit around and veg—none of those boys are. I know Darren’s missing his workout partner.”
“Yeah, so am I.”
“I didn’t know you worked out with Alex.”
“That’s not the kind of workout I’m talking about.”
Understanding dawns in her eyes. She looks around and lowers her voice when she asks, “Are things not good in beaverland? Is Daisy making that a challenge?”
“Daisy’s not really the problem.” I push the food around on my plate.
“Oh my God, did he pull a groin muscle or something? I know it was a hard hit. Why didn’t you say anything before now?”
“He didn’t pull a groin muscle. Super MC still works fine. It has more to do with Alex’s level of frustration than anything. He’s used to having a lot of stamina, and at the moment, well, he doesn’t, so I have to do all the work. Anyway, it’s good that I’ve been doing all that yoga with Sunny, ’cause my legs are getting a serious workout. Sex makes my abs hurt.”
“Right?” Charlene exclaims. “Some days it feels like I’ve done a P90X workout after a night with Darren.”
“Especially after away games. Sunny should come up with some kind of pre-sex yoga ritual so I don’t walk like a robot for three days afterward.” I’m joking about it, because otherwise I’m at risk of crying. I’m all over the place today with the emotions.
“Agreed.”
We’re silent for a minute—Charlene probably because she’s thinking about all the sex she’s been having and will be having tonight, and me because I’m thinking about all the sex I’m missing. Well, it’s not that the sex is missing, it’s that Alex isn’t in the right condition to bang on the beaver the way he usually does.
While I enjoy how sweet he can be, and how considerate he is during sex, I miss some of the intensity and aggression. But I know it will return.
“Honestly, Char, I can deal with the temporary lack of hot sexing. Mostly I’m glad he’s okay. It could’ve been so much worse.”
“But we know he’ll be fine.”
“That’s what the doctors are saying anyway.” The retrograde amnesia persists, with the hours surrounding the accident still missing, but otherwise he seems okay. I push my plate away. I’m so overwhelmed. Because fine is relative. Goddamnit. The tears start leaking out.
“Vi? Are you okay?”
I take a few deep breaths, trying to get myself under control. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
“It’s been a rough couple of weeks. I just…I don’t know. I mean, now I have this account, and that’s awesome, but it’s going to be a lot of work, and right now all I can think about is being with Alex—and how much worse the accident could’ve been. He’s getting better, but he’s still a long ways from being totally fine. What if he’d had a serious brain injury? What if—” I can’t finish the sentence.
Charlene puts her hand over mine. “But he didn’t, and he’s okay. He’s going to be fine. You have to believe the doctors. It just takes time.”
“I know. But that’s this time. There’s no guarantee it won’t happen again.”
“Try not to think that way, Vi.”
I stare at my plate. “But it’s the reality of this profession. Bad things can happen.”
Char squeezes my hand tightly. “So what does that mean?”
“All I can really think about is how I don’t ever want to lose him.” I feel the wave building inside me. I’ve been holding it together decently since Alex came home from the hospital, but today it seems I’m due for a breakdown. A tear drops onto my sticky rice. “I love this job, but I’m starting to realize the nine-to-five isn’t something I’m going to be able to keep up over the long term. And I don’t think I’ll want to. So I need to figure out what’s realistic and adjust my plans.”
Charlene sits back, contemplating. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.”
“I have.”
“I also think you should consider how stressed out you’ve been. Alex’s accident, the Darcy account, it’s a lot for anyone to handle.”
I set my fork down, my appetite gone—which is sad, because the food here is awesome. “I know, but it’s made me reevaluate what’s important.”
“Which is what?”
“I want to set a date for the wedding.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. If I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that life is too unpredictable to let my propensity for self-humiliation stop me from getting hitched. I want to spend the rest of my life with this man, and postponing the start of that because I’m going to embarrass myself is silly. That’s just the way I am. Waiting isn’t going to change it.”
-&-
After lunch I pack a box of files and head home, feeling lighter. I won over the Darcys, I’m going to work from home for a while, and as soon as the time is right, I’m going to tell Alex we should set a date.
I find him in the living room, lying on the couch with the remote control pointed at the TV. He rewinds and then presses play, turning up the volume. He doesn’t notice me watching him. I glance at the screen and realize too late it’s the footage from his injury. The crack when he hits the boards is amplified by the surround sound. Then th
e screaming fans drown out everything else.
The camera angle changes, giving me a different view of the events than I had at the game. While I was panicking, his teammates were checking for a response. The whole thing comes flooding back in a rush of fresh fear. I put my hand over my mouth to silence my sob, but I’m not quick enough.
Alex suddenly realizes I’m here. He stops the video and pats the cushion beside him. “C’mere.”
He’s wearing his current uniform of a hoodie and sweats, and I’m still in my dress pants and blouse. He moves over so I can get my ass on the sliver of cushion.
“Why are you watching that?” I ask with a sniffle.
“To see if it’ll jog my memory. It sure as hell explains why I look the way I do.” He cracks a smile.
I try to return it, but I can’t. “I’m glad Cockburn got a twenty-game suspension.”
“He deserved it.” He caresses my cheek. “You must have been so scared.”
I nod, working through the lump in my throat. We haven’t really talked about this, mostly because Alex doesn’t have any memory of the hit.
“When you didn’t get up, and then they wheeled you by me on that stretcher and you weren’t moving…I thought I was going to lose you. I couldn’t keep it together enough to be able to get in the ambulance with you. Sunny had to go, and all I could think was that I was never going to…” I don’t continue. The words are unnecessary.
“But I’m going to be okay now.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I’ve purposely avoided the footage up to this point. “There was an hour or so when I didn’t know if I was ever going to be okay again. It was awful.”
“I’m sorry I scared you, baby.”
He doesn’t promise not to do it again, and I know it’s because he doesn’t want to lie to me. Which scares me even more. He reaches over, bringing my mouth to his. It’s a soft kiss, and there isn’t any tongue, but he finishes with a lip nibble. When he’s done, I back up a few inches so his eyes don’t merge into one.
“Let’s talk about something nice.” He glances at the clock. “You’re home earlier than I expected. Did the presentation go okay?”
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