WILD ZONE, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel

by Skye Jordan

  “I play with knives for a living.”

  Without warning, he cupped the back of her neck and kissed her. The force of it pushed a surprised sound from her throat. Then his lips parted and his tongue slid along hers. All her stress melted, she sighed and opened to him. He tried to do the same but made a sound of discomfort and pulled back.

  “Sorry,” he said, wincing. “The numbing’s wearing off.”

  “What happened?”

  “Just one of those things. One of the kids ate it at practice. His momentum carried him into me and I got the end of a stick.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  They fell silent a minute and their previous conversation flooded in. She repeated the question he never answered. “Is what Quinn said true?”

  “Not about why I slept with you. I’ve been divorced for a year, over it almost before the final came through. I’ve had the opportunity to sleep with women since. I haven’t because no one has interested me enough to make the jump. So, no, I didn’t sleep with you to because I was getting over a divorce.”

  That part didn’t concern Olivia in the least. People sought out sex for hundreds of different reasons. The only thing that mattered to her was that once they’d met, they’d forged something beyond a sexual attraction. “What about the rest?”

  He exhaled, planted his back against the cupboards and braced his feet, pulling her into the vee of his legs. “Do I want kids? Yeah, I do. When I want them depends entirely on who I’m having them with and what our relationship is like. I like the whole original divine order to family — dating, marriage, kids. Is that model perfect? No. Is anything perfect? I haven’t found one thing yet. But I know, now more than ever, that I want to be one hundred percent solid with a woman before kids enter the picture. The divorce made that non-negotiable for me. Because if I had a child with Lisa, our lives would be a constant battle. I grew up without a dad for twelve years. I watched Mia grow up without ever connecting with hers. So that’s one of my hard and fast values.”

  Olivia nodded and slid her arms around his waist. “I like that. Your love of family is one of the many things I admire about you. Along with your drive to be the best at what you do. It’s one value of many that I think we share. I know how important your career is to you, and I don’t want to interfere with that.”

  “That’s my job. That’s not something you can control. I’ve been playing hockey for over two decades. Focus is part of the muscle memory that kicks in as soon as my blades touch the ice. I’ve dated and broken up with women during that time, including marrying and divorcing Lisa. If anything, it made my game better, because I poured everything I had—all my frustration, all my anger, all my hate—into the game.”

  She sighed, but only felt marginally better.

  “What about you?” he asked. “How will having a long distance relationship create stress in your life?”

  She tipped her head and thought about it. Slipping her fingers under the edge of his tee, she stroked his warm skin. “I’ll miss you. I’ve never missed anyone before. Except my dad. That will make me sad, but I’ll keep busy with school and work. I might be more stressed about money, because I’ll be trying to save to come back when I can get a break.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. We can talk about it Sunday, after the dinner. What about men, Liv?” A flicker of a shadow passed through his dark eyes. “Your casual relationships have been a big part of your life.”

  She sputtered a laugh. “You make it sound like I sleep with a new guy every night.”

  “If you’re missing me, stressed and lonely, it wouldn’t be out of left field for you to find comfort where you are.”

  This talk was causing turbulent emotions. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve never done this before. If I wanted to keep sleeping with you and other men, I’d tell you to look me up when you’re passing through. That’s not what I’m doing, Tate. I’m putting all my trust in you. Emotionally, this is like a cliff edge for me.”

  That seemed to soften his eyes. He nodded and threaded his fingers through her hair.

  “One of the reasons I’ve stayed out of relationships as long as I have,” she said, “is because a lot of Europeans have a lackadaisical view of commitment. I can’t even count the number of people I know who sleep around even when they’re in a serious relationship. Maybe my first eighteen years drilled the American culture into me or maybe it’s because my parents were married so long and loved each other until the very end, but I’ve never found anyone who made me believe that all they wanted was me. When you’re making love to me, I feel so completely…” God, she didn’t know how to put it into words. “Wanted and needed. I never knew how important that was to me until I had it with you.”

  Emotions flashed across his face with the complexity of a kaleidoscope pattern. He slid his hand into her hair and massaged her scalp. “I’m ready to buy a fuckin’ plane so I can go home to you every night.”

  “That,” she said. “That right there. That’s what I’m talking about.” She hugged him close. “I love the way you love me.”

  He held her close and Olivia heard the thump of his heartbeat in her ear. She closed her eyes, loving the idea of having this to fall asleep to every night. God, this was so crazy.

  “Baby?” he said.

  “Hmm?”

  “I need to talk to you about something.”

  She pulled back and looked up at him. His expression matched his tone. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not bad. I mean, it doesn’t have to be. I don’t even think it’s a big deal, and I know you’ve got a lot going on. It’s just—”

  Footsteps cut off his words. They both turned toward the door where Olivia’s mother’s voice entered before she did. “Olivia? Quinn? I’m here to see how you’re—”

  She felt Tate stiffen, but Olivia didn’t move away from him. If her mother didn’t care enough to even entertain Olivia’s concerns about the business, she wasn’t going to hide how she felt about Tate.

  “Oh,” her mother said, her gaze skipping from Tate to Olivia and back to Tate. But instead of surprise, Olivia saw alarm before Teresa covered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Quinn said she was grabbing lunch,” Olivia told her, “but didn’t say where she was going.”

  “I see.” Teresa wandered in, her gaze still skipping between Olivia and Tate. And she was acting nervous, which was odd. Then she noticed Tate’s cut. “Oh, Tate, what happened to your face?”

  “It got in the way of a kid’s stick today. I’m fine.”

  Teresa nodded. “So what do you two have your heads together about?”

  Another odd question. “A few last minute menu changes.”

  Her mother’s expression said she was suspicious of that answer, but she didn’t challenge Olivia. “And everything’s okay?”

  “Fine. I have all the ingredients I need, either way. I’m just fine tuning for the audience.”

  “All right then.”

  She looked like she was going to leave, so Olivia told her what she’d wanted to tell her last night. “I want to talk with you more about the company’s finances before I leave, Mom. It’s important.”

  “Oh, honey. I really do appreciate your concern, but we’re doing fine. All these new jobs are covering the expenses, providing a salary for both me and Quinn and we still have money left over to reinvest.”

  “But you don’t have any cushion. If one of these jobs falls through, it could wipe you out. Things like that happen all the time. You just don’t have the capital to risk—”

  “Honey. Let’s not waste Tate’s time. You and I can talk about this later.”

  “Like we did last night?” These dismissals were making her angry.

  “I got home late—”

  “No, you didn’t. I heard you and Quinn talking. And I know Quinn told you I wanted to talk to you.” When her mother didn’t argue, Olivia relented. “Fin
e. Do it your way. Just know this banquet is the last thing I want to be involved in.”

  “Olivia,” she said, in her don’t-be-ridiculous tone. “Don’t blow this out of proportion.” She glanced at Tate. “I’m sorry to be dragging out family business in front of you, Tate.” With another stern look from her mother, she said, “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Teresa walked out and Olivia shook her head. “Whatever happened between me and Quinn wasn’t as significant as I thought.” She lifted her gaze to Tate’s feeling like she’d had the scab ripped off an old wound. “They’re doing it again. Hiding things. Whispering so I don’t hear. Planning things I don’t know about.” She lowered her gaze to his chest. “It’s never going to change.”

  Tate wrapped her in his arms and held her tight. “This is a stressful time for all of us. Let them get through this run of events and try again.”

  She nodded, sighed and refocused on his handsome face. “I’m sorry. What did you need to talk to me about?”

  He shook his head and a little smile tipped his lips. “You have enough on your plate.”

  “You look tired,” she told him, stroking his cheek.

  He grinned. “Stitches stress me out.”

  “Aw, I’m sorry I wasn’t there to hold your hand.” She was only half teasing. She really wished she had been in the ER with him. “Go home. Get some rest.”

  “Are you sure—”

  “I’ve got this. I’ve got you. Nothing to worry about here. Now go home.”

  “Thanks baby. You have no idea how nice it is to have you in my corner.”

  Her heart warmed. She loved being able to do something nice for him. Pushing up on her toes, she kissed him. “Dream of me.”

  14

  Olivia worked into the early morning hours on basic food prep to make sure she and her sous chefs would have enough time to get everything ready. Then she met her assistants at the kitchen and started work again just hours later.

  Now, at three in the afternoon, the day before the event, Olivia finally felt like she had confidence over the big night. She wandered out of the kitchen where the other chefs were still working, and into a stairway leading to the restrooms to call Tate, but her cell rang.

  She smiled, prepared to say, “I’m ready for our date” but it wasn’t Tate, and she didn’t recognize the number.

  She turned her mind away from the best French restaurant in DC where Tate had made reservations for them tonight, and took a seat on one of the stairs and groaned at her aching back. There, she answered, “Hello.”

  “Hi, can I speak with Quinn Essex please?” The voice was female and unfamiliar. Olivia and Quinn often got mistaken for each other, but this was a first.

  “No, this is her sister.”

  “Is Quinn available?”

  “I’m sorry, she’s not. Can I help you with something?”

  “I’m not sure. This is Vera with District Distributing. I need to speak with someone in charge of billing.”

  “Oh no, I definitely can’t help you. How’d you get this number?”

  “It was listed as an alternate contact. I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll continue to try the other number I have.”

  “When I see her I’ll let her know you called.”

  She disconnected and dialed Tate. He’d come in twice earlier in the day to see her, and she’d been too busy to give him much more than a few kisses.

  He didn’t pick up, which meant he was probably out taking care of the awards he planned on giving out at the banquet.

  “Hey there,” she said to his voice mail, “I can see the light at the end of the tunnel here. Hope your chin is feeling better. I’m looking forward to a long intimate dinner and an even longer, more intimate dessert. Call when you’re free.”

  She disconnected, spent a few minutes stretching her back, legs, arms and hands. And went back to work. Setting up the industrial blender, Olivia got started on the crust for the individual key lime streusel desserts. All two hundred and sixteen of them.

  Olivia was filling Ziploc bags with the graham cracker blend when Quinn appeared at the door with her laptop in her hands and tears wetting her face.

  Olivia froze. Alarm shot an icy hot streak through her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

  She set the mixing bowl down with a thump, spilling graham cracker crumbs across the counter. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned to face her sister. But she was frozen, waiting for what had to be devastating news by the look on her sister’s face.

  “We have a big problem.”

  “We?” She held up her hands. “You and mom have resisted my every attempt to help. What you want is a fixer. I’m not going to keep cleaning up the messes you and mom make. Especially not when you continue to keep secrets from me. Whatever that’s about” she gestured toward Quinn’s tears and the computer “isn’t my problem.”

  Quinn pulled the computer to her chest and took a choppy breath. “It is if you care about Tate the way you say you do.”

  All the discomfort in her stomach hardened into a rock. Olivia crossed her arms and tilted her head toward the main dining room, then started that way, her anger growing right alongside fear. She took a seat at one of two tables she’d set up a few days ago for paperwork.

  Quinn sat on the edge of another chair, pressed the computer to her lap and stared at it. “I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Skip the drama, just tell me the problem.”

  Quinn pulled in a breath. Another. And tears started pouring from her eyes. Her face crumpled and she dropped her head covering her face. “I’m so sorry.”

  Despite her anger, despite her hurt, Olivia couldn’t stand to see Quinn so distraught. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around her sister. “Jesus Christ, Quinny. Life’s too short to be so stressed and unhappy.”

  “You’re never going to come back,” she half-cried, half-whined.

  Olivia pulled back and frowned at Quinn. “What?”

  “After this.” She sniffled. “You’re never going to come back.”

  Everything inside her braced for a deathblow. “What. Happened.”

  “The distributor for our liquor called.”

  Olivia’s mind shot back to the phone call she’d gotten an hour before. “District Distributors?”

  Quinn gaze her a glassy stare. “Yeah. H-how did you know?”

  “They called me earlier looking for you. What kind of problem with the liquor could possibly cause this level of distress?”

  Quinn took another breath, then started talking. “They said the payment for the liquor for this event didn’t go through. So, I gave them the credit card number again, checked the expiration date and the code on the back, but it still didn’t go through. I told her I’d look into it and call her back.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a problem that warrants all this.” Olivia gestured to Quinn.

  Quinn lifted a finger. “There’s more.”

  Dread collected like a boulder in her gut. She leaned back and crossed her arms.

  “When the payment failed again, I called the credit card company. They said we’re over our credit limit, but that account has our highest limit. That freaked me, but I figured I’d look into it later. So I paid with another card.” She shook her head. “Didn’t go through. Credit limit maxed out. I tried the emergency card. Same.”

  Olivia’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Holy shit.” She frowned. “Where’s mom?”

  “In Chevy Chase with a client. She never answers her phone when she’s with a client. So I’m panicking now. And even though I know we shouldn’t use cash to pay for things, I went to the bank. The distributer said they’d need cash or a cashier’s check since the payment didn’t clear ahead of time.” Quinn tented her hands over her mouth and shook her head. “There’s no money in the business account.”

  “What do you mean no money? There has to be something—”

  “Two hundred dollars.”

  “What the fuck?” Olivia’s mi
nd was spinning over the debt, the lack of cash. “What happened to all the deposits you’ve been getting for all these new jobs?”

  Quinn put her laptop on the table. The screen showed a Wells Fargo bank account. Essex Elite Events bank account page. Olivia pulled the computer toward her, scouring the numbers.

  When her sister started pointing toward the amounts and explaining what they were, Olivia lost her patience and snapped, “I know how to read a bank statement.”

  Quinn pulled back, cupped her hands in her lap and stared at the table. And Olivia felt like shit. She stared at Quinn for a moment with a sense of utter and complete loss. Olivia had always believed she and Quinn would eventually find their way back to each other. She’d always hoped she and her mom would find a bridge back from the betrayal they both felt. But looking at her sister now, after seeing what her mother and Quinn had been doing all these years without even telling Olivia about it, she’d never felt more alienated. Or more unwanted.

  Unless she could fix the problem.

  She lowered her gaze to the computer screen, eyes blurring with tears. Her chest ached. Her stomach hurt. And a huge, huge part of her, like ninety-nine percent of her wanted to shove the computer back at Quinn and tell her to clean up her own mess.

  But they’d dragged Tate into it. And she wouldn’t let him down.

  So, she scrolled through the numbers, looking at where the money was coming in and where it was going. Within five minutes, Olivia saw the pattern, and her stomach dropped. “You’ve been spiraling for months,” she told Quinn without looking up. “Jesus Quinn, you’ve been living by the seat of your pants for almost a fucking year.” She looked up at her sister. “You’re smarter than this. You aced accounting in high school. You did an internship with Boeings finance for fuck’s sake. You know better than to pay deposits for future jobs with final payments from past jobs.”

  She shook her head and offered a quiet, “I wasn’t managing the money.” Her watery blue eyes lifted to Olivia’s. “I didn’t know.”

  “Shit.” Olivia planted her elbow on the table and propped her forehead in her hand, searching deeper, trying to find some money. Somewhere. There was two hundred dollars in the checking. One hundred in savings. For a business this size, that was terrifying. “Are there other accounts?”