by Sarah Hegger
She introduced the two blondes with her. The shorter, fairylike one was Chloe, and the taller one with a Sports Illustrated body was Lisette, and from Quebec judging by her accent.
“So, you’re Sam’s girl?” Lisette smiled at her, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m married to Pierre Beliveau. Defense.”
Elizabeth assumed she meant Pierre played defense.
“Chloe is married to Greg Fletcher.” Kathy pointed to a blond guy talking to Sam. “Wing.”
Elizabeth smiled and nodded. “Lovely.”
“Okay?” Sam brought her a glass of wine and leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“Fine.” She waved him away. “Go and talk hockey. Or whatever else you do when you’re not on the ice.”
“You know what else I do when I’m not on the ice.” Sam leered and drifted away.
The women with her all tittered.
“I remember when that was Greg’s favorite thing too.” Chloe sipped her drink. Her laugh sounded brittle.
“They really do talk hockey,” Kathy said. “We’re lucky there isn’t another game on, or they’d be watching that.”
Elizabeth tried to read the tone. “Well, I suppose if they were doctors, they’d be talking about the bits they cut off people.”
“Maybe.” Lisette finished her drink and stared across the room at one of the players.
A dark-haired man with a square, stubbled jaw stood and fetched a glass of wine. Pierre, she presumed.
“What do you do?” Elizabeth threw the question to the group.
Kathy spoke first. “I was in advertising, but I had to give that up.” She indicated Craig with her glass. “Craig got traded, we moved here. There doesn’t seem to be much reason to get another job when it could happen again.”
“Craig’s getting traded?”
“No.” Kathy stared at her, and Elizabeth got the impression she’d missed the point.
“I have four children,” Lisette said.
“Wow.” That would keep anyone busy. “That’s a full-time job right there. Boys? Girls?”
“Four boys.” Lisette drained her glass. “And yes, they do all play hockey.”
Okay, not what she was going to ask but fine. “Great.”
“I don’t work.” Chloe gave her a neon-bright smile. “I do my best to spend all the money Greg makes.”
Elizabeth joined in the laughter, but she wasn’t so sure Chloe was joking.
“Do you have a job?” Kathy turned back to her.
“Actually, I was working for my father.” Elizabeth wished her wine would magically replenish itself. The conversation felt like work. “But I resigned. This week actually.”
Chloe and Lisette nodded.
“I need to start looking for something.”
Kathy stared at her. “Why bother?”
“I have to eat.” Elizabeth had the feeling she’d missed the point again.
“Your job is hockey now,” Chloe said. “And it’s full time. All day. Every day. You are now a piece of Sam Stone’s hockey equipment.”
“I don’t think—”
“Chloe’s exaggerating.” Kathy threw Chloe a look. “But if you and Sam are serious, then it does mean your life will take second place to his. You may as well get used to it now.”
Elizabeth wanted to argue with them, but all three of them were veterans. She didn’t feel like she had a leg to stand on.
“Guy.” She spotted him heading toward her and nearly jumped into his arms.
He arrived with a huge smile and a kiss for everyone. “Come and rescue me,” he said to Elizabeth. “All the guys want to do is talk hockey, and Sam told me you resigned your job.”
“Sure.” Elizabeth jumped at the chance to get away from the happy trio.
“She’s my blind.” He winked at Kathy. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Guy led her over to the bar and refilled her wine. “You okay now?”
“Was it that obvious?” God, she hoped she hadn’t been standing there looking shell shocked.
“I know those ladies.” Guy led her to a sofa and sat beside her. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and there are two main kinds of hockey wives.”
“You make it sound like a club.”
“Nah! It’s a team.” He stretched his long legs out in front of him. “I caught a bit of what they were saying to you, and they’re right, to an extent. What we do, Sam, me and the other guys, it’s consuming. You can’t get to this level without it being that way.”
Elizabeth understood that. “I grew up with Sam, remember?”
“So you know what he’s sacrificed and how hard he’s worked. That’s difficult for some of the partners to get,” Guy said. “And they can get resentful.”
“It can’t be easy for them.” Chloe, Lisette, and Kathy were speaking freely now that she was gone. None of them looked happy. “Nobody wants to feel like their needs are second place.”
“Some women marry the athlete not the man, though.” Guy watched the women too. “They marry for the status and resent what that means.”
“You’re saying they don’t love their partners?” Elizabeth was getting outraged for women everywhere.
Guy grinned at her. “Not all the wives are like that, babe. A lot of them are great women who keep their man grounded. Those ones tend to want to stay out of the limelight. Kathy wants to be Mrs. Craig Dawson, and she’s bitter as hell that Craig doesn’t want the same.”
“Sam told me.”
“Chloe hates Greg’s guts. And he deserves it. He screws around on her.”
Elizabeth looked over at Greg. “Does Chloe know?”
“Sure she does.” Guy shrugged. “And she really doesn’t care.” He motioned Lisette. “And Lisette misses her family and hates Ottawa.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you looked like you were about to cut and run, and I wouldn’t want you to do that before you’d met the other side of this equation.”
Guy introduced her to another couple of wives. Like he said, they were nice women with genuine affection for their spouses.
Shortly after that, Sam claimed her and kept her by his side for the rest of the party.
It was only later, lying next to a sleeping Sam that Elizabeth identified the troubling feeling. She was way, way, way out of her depth.
Chapter 31
Elizabeth opened her front door to Peter the next day. She hadn’t seen him in weeks and weeks. He looked shorter than she remembered. As always, his hair was neatly combed in a side parting as if his mom had dressed him and sent him out to play.
She used to think it was endearing.
“Hi.” Peter looked at her sweatpants and frowned. “Are you running late?”
“Late?” It hit her all of a sudden. “Oh shit! Our lunch.”
Peter’s face tightened in disapproval. “You forgot.”
“I’m so sorry.” She had forgotten. Totally and completely.
“Well. Never mind.” Peter sighed. “I can wait while you change.”
Elizabeth wanted to cancel, but she couldn’t think of a reason. She didn’t even have the work excuse, so she trailed into her bedroom and changed.
She could have invented an appointment or something. Or, and here was a groundbreaking idea, she could have said no. Tugging on jeans, she wanted to slap herself.
Not surprisingly Peter took her to “their” restaurant. It was an upscale steakhouse that had only become theirs because Peter liked it and always brought her there.
He ordered them a bottle of San Pellegrino and sat back. “How are you?”
“Great.” She flagged down the waitress and ordered a beer. “You?”
“Great.” He gave her a tight smile as if she had erred in some way. “I went past your work. Apparently you resigned?”
“Yup.” Peter had been on the receiving end of her work complaints for years. “I finally did it.”
“So, what’s next for you?” He leaned forward on the tab
le.
“I’m not sure yet.” She shrugged. “I have some money saved. I want to look around and do something that excites me. You know?”
His smile told her he did know. Before they’d been tepid lovers, she and Peter had been friends, good friends. They’d wanted to stay friends when the romantic part of their relationship had withered.
As lunch progressed, Elizabeth relaxed. He had some good suggestions for where she should start her job hunt.
Peter sat back and pushed his plate away. “I hear you’re seeing Sam?”
“Um…yes.” Elizabeth’s face heated. “I bet that surprised you.”
“It did.” Peter fidgeted with his cutlery. “I thought you hated him.”
Elizabeth forced a laugh. “So did I.”
Peter arranged his napkin. “I take it that means you and I…”
“You and I?” Elizabeth hadn’t thought of her and Peter as a couple since they’d broken up, and she had gotten the definite impression neither had Peter. “We’re not an us.”
“That’s what I thought.” Peter tittered. “But I wanted to ask anyway. In case you had, you know, changed your mind.”
Weird. If Peter was trying to say he had harbored some unrequited feelings for her, she was going to have to call bullshit. She hadn’t even thought he cared that much when they were together. “I haven’t. I’m with Sam now.”
“Okay.” Peter dug out his wallet and put a smile on his face. “This was fun. We should do it again.”
“Um…sure.”
Since it was Thursday, Elizabeth went to South Pacific rehearsal that evening. With time running out, Leonard was so stressed he was nearly going into orbit. Elizabeth had weathered a show before with him. Last year in fact, Sweeny Todd, and Leonard had almost ended up as a victim.
“How’s it going?” Carol popped into the rehearsal room.
Carol had also lived through Sweeny Todd. “Not bad.” Elizabeth looked up from supervising the costume sewing. “Tonight, we’ve only had four eruptions and one walk out.”
“Progress.” Carol looked impressed. “And why is Agnes wearing a muumuu?”
“Because the alternative was a bikini.”
“Good call.” Carol motioned the hall outside the rehearsal room. “Listen, I actually popped in to chat with you. Got a sec?”
“Sure.” Elizabeth made sure the set decorators were still happily adorning everything with garish crepe flowers.
A short woman, and square, Carol looked like she got straight to the point. And she did. “I heard a rumor you’d quit your job.”
“I did.” Elizabeth should have known word would get around.
Carol crossed her arms. “You in the market?”
“Sure.” She’d had a depressing afternoon filling in her CV on an online job site. There wasn’t much in her part of the world. She might have to move closer to Toronto.
“Would you consider us?” Carol looked dead serious. “We have an opening here, and I think you’d be great for it. Part fundraising, part administrator and part organizing this sort of thing.” She motioned the rehearsal.
Leonard’s voice rose from the other side of the door. “I need to fe-e-el the sun on your back. I need to sme-e-ell the sea breeze.”
“Don’t we all.” Carol rolled her eyes. “The salary’s not great.” She grimaced. “But we do feed you with the residents, and I think you have what it takes to work here.” She grinned. “And there is always the opportunity to nap.”
Elizabeth’s head reeled a bit. She’d never thought of turning her spare time activity into a job. Despite Leonard, she did like working with the residents. She loved their stories and their life experience. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course.” Carol patted her shoulder. “I’ll email an official job description with salary and whatnot to you and you can have a look.” Her eyes gleamed as she said, “Take your time but not too long. People are beating down our doors to work with Leonard.”
Elizabeth got through the rest of rehearsal, but her mind was full of her conversation with Carol. Her volunteer work had always been important to her. Even at school, she’d willingly done her community service activities.
After college, she’d drifted into Dad’s company because he seemed to need her and stayed because some part of her thought she could win his approval that way.
But she was free now, and that meant her choices were wide open.
She wanted to talk it over with Sam. He would be off the ice by the time she got home. On her drive home she almost dialed Chris, but they still hadn’t spoken since their blow up the other night.
She parked and walked to her condo dialing Sam’s number. It rang. Out loud.
Ringing phone in hand, Sam sat on the top step outside her condo.
Elizabeth was so pleased to see him it took her a few minutes to get that Sam looked pissed. Very pissed.
“Hey.” She climbed toward him. “You okay?”
Standing, Sam motioned her door. “Inside.”
Say what? He must be really pissed. “What’s wrong?”
“Inside.” He clenched his jaw. “I don’t feel like having this conversation with Randy listening.”
“Is that Sam’s car?” Randy’s voice drifted up on cue.
Elizabeth opened her door and let Sam in.
Sam strode into the center of her apartment and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Why did you have lunch with fucking Peter?”
Elizabeth stared at him, not sure whether to laugh or smack him. She didn’t think he could be serious.
Except Sam looked serious as a heart attack, those blue eyes snapping fire at her, the muscle in his jaw spasming.
“Um…” Playing for time, she put her stuff on the counter and removed her jacket. “Hi, Sam.”
“I’m waiting.” He yanked out of his jacket, seriously endangering seams as he went. “I drove straight down after my game.”
“First off, that tone? Not a big fan.” Amusement still warred with anger inside her. Right then, he reminded her of five-year old Sam when he couldn’t get his way. He was totally jealous and that made her feel rather smug and pleased. “And I had lunch with Peter because we’re old friends.”
“Friends?” Sam snorted and yanked his phone out his pocket. “Does this look like friends to you?”
With his phone shoved in her face, Elizabeth had no option but to look. She and Peter were sitting together at the steakhouse. She was laughing at something Peter had said. She thought it might have been a work story he’d told her.
“Actually, yes, Sam.” She really had missed Sam, his strong, handsome face, his gorgeous body, and even his hot temper. But one had to move slowly with crazy. No sudden movements and no loud noises. “It looks exactly like two old friends having lunch.”
Sam glowered. “Really?”
“How did you get that picture?” Her money would be on Instagram.
“Somebody called Maddog122 sent it to me.”
“Sounds legit.”
Sam yanked the image back and stared at it. “You’re laughing.”
“I am laughing.” She spoke slowly and clearly. “Because I do that sometimes. Most of all I do it when I find something funny.” It must be a sign of how far gone she was that a good part of her wanted to kiss the hell out of him right then. He was hot as fuck when he was pissed.
Sam glared at her. “Are you humoring me?”
“Do you require humoring?”
“I make you laugh,” he said, crossing his arms. His frown deepened. “And if it’s all so innocent, why didn’t you tell me about it?”
“Because I forgot.” Elizabeth opened a beer and handed it to him. “I made the lunch date with him weeks ago, and until he arrived on my doorstep today, I had completely forgotten.”
Sam looked marginally mollified by that. He snort-laughed and sipped his beer. “You forgot you had a date with that loser.”
The storm front had moved off and Sam’s tense shoulders relaxed.
“Do you still like him?” Sam shoved his spare hand in his pockets.
Elizabeth approached him. When he’d calmed down, she and he would have a word about his attitude, but first, the competitive streak three miles wide running through Sam needed to be soothed.
“No, Sam.” She stopped in front of him. “Things were over with Peter even before we…” She didn’t know what to call them, so she ended on a hand motion. “That day you came here and ate all my ice cream, I lied about him still being my boyfriend.”
“You lied.” He squinted, hackles on the rise again.
Elizabeth took a sip of his beer. “Yes, Sam, I lied, because there was no way I was admitting to you that I was a loser without a boyfriend.”
He took his beer back and stared at her. Uncertainty crossed his expression. “Today was lunch between friends?”
It amazed her that someone that hot could even have a glancing moment of insecurity. Lust and the need to comfort him made uncomfortable neighbors inside her. “In the interest of full disclosure, he did ask how things stood between you and me, and whether that meant he and I were truly over.”
Sam’s thunderous scowl crept back over his face. “You told him he didn’t stand a fucking chance, right?”
“I did.” She nodded and stole another sip of beer. “But not only because of you and me, but also because I don’t have those sorts of feelings for him anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”
“Hmph!” Sam took his beer back and sipped. He held the bottle up. “It’s empty.”
“Would you like another?”
“I only had half of that one because you drank most of it.“
“Two sips.” Now it was her turn to lay down some truths. “Green is a very unattractive color on you, Sam.”
“I was not jealous.” He glared at her but couldn’t hold it for long. “Okay maybe a little.”
“How did Maddog send you the photo?”
“Twitter.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Let me get this straight.” Elizabeth took her time taking the empty back to the kitchen. Let him sweat a bit. “A complete stranger called Maddog122 sends you a picture of me with a man. You don’t do what a reasonable person would do, which is to call me and ask about it. No!”