All of Coop’s rah-rah talk about facing fears and kicking ass were fine in theory. But now that the moment was upon her, the urge to curl up and let the media storm recede, at least until the next batch of “biggest hockey screwups” YouTube videos resurrected the footage again, seemed like the smart plan.
No. She was going to meet with Holly, Lainey decided. Because she never again wanted to feel the way she had when Lenny and his henchmen had cornered her outside the bar. And because if a ten-year-old boy could face bone cancer with enough grace and dignity to make Cooper Mead cry, then she had no right to be cowardly over this.
Lainey looked up at the teal-and-white-striped awning with the word “Icing” printed on it in a simple, serif font. She glanced at her phone to make sure she was in the right place. She’d been expecting a different bakery, called Piece of Cake, but the address matched, and Lainey found herself a little sad to realize it must have closed since her last visit all those years ago.
When she was young, she’d been allowed to pick out one of the beautiful, six-layer cakes that beckoned from the display case on her birthday. The owner, Stella, had been this lovely, grandmotherly figure who’d always made Lainey feel grown-up, like she was the customer instead of her mother.
And during her very difficult return to Portland after her mother had died, she’d spent a lot of time at the bakery, choosing to do her homework there with the happy memories of her mom, rather than at her father’s house, where she felt like a stranger.
She was surprised at the rush of emotion as she stepped through the door.
“Lainey!” At the sound of her name, she walked toward the woman in the far corner of the bakery.
“Thank you so much for coming. I’m Holly.”
The gorgeous blonde stood and extended her hand for Lainey to shake.
“Well, thank you for meeting me here. I appreciate it.”
Lainey glanced around the cupcake store. Matte-gray rectangular floor tiles, sleek white booths that featured both vibrant flowers in teal mason jars and iPads for at-table ordering. Rows upon rows of tempting cupcakes in a rainbow of appetizing pastels and handwritten chalkboards detailing their menu. It was a surprising mix of homespun and state-of-the-art, and while Lainey missed the old-fashioned predecessor for sentimental reasons, she found she liked Icing’s atmosphere. And the fact that it smelled like she’d died and gone to olfactory heaven didn’t hurt. “You do all your preinterview vetting while on a sugar high?”
“Whenever I can.”
Lainey liked her matter-of-factness. “I respect that.”
“For the record, I think this is a brave way to handle your recent media storm.”
“For the record, I’m still strongly considering going with ‘no comment,’ so don’t be too impressed yet.”
Holly’s chuckle seemed genuine. “I can see why Cooper likes you. Please, have a seat.”
The invitation stole the smile from Lainey’s lips, even as she slid into the booth. Luckily a pretty brunette approached the table and saved her from having to reply. She had no idea where Holly had gotten the idea that Cooper liked her. Okay, he liked her, sure, but he didn’t like like her. At least not in the way that made complete strangers comment on it.
“Hi, I’m Rebecca. You must be Lainey.”
“Oh. Yeah. Hey.” Lainey couldn’t remember the last time she’d shaken so many hands.
“Welcome to Icing.”
“Thanks. I thought... I mean, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about the woman who ran the bakery that used to be here, would you?”
“You know Stella?” Rebecca’s smile was beaming, and the tightness around Lainey’s heart loosened. Surely her reaction would have been more subdued if anything untoward had happened to Stella.
“Yeah, I mean, sort of. My mom and I used to come here.” Lainey kept her answers noncommittal.
Rebecca had no such compunctions, and dove head-first into an update. “Stella’s fantastic! She and her beau moved to Paris. They got married on New Year’s Eve in the little patisserie where she works a few mornings a week. It was adorable. I’ve never seen her look so happy. Eric, on the other hand, was a total wreck when he gave her away.” Rebecca shook her head fondly. “That man worries more than anyone I’ve ever met. This playoff run might be the death of him.”
“Eric Jacobs?” Lainey asked. She’d never met him, since she was a couple of years older than he was, but Stella had spoken often of her grandson during Lainey’s trips to the bakery, and his name had been bandied about in hockey circles, even back then.
“They’re dating, if you can’t tell by the dreamy smile on her face,” Holly teased.
Blushing, Rebecca pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Sorry, you guys! You’re here to do business and I’m rambling on. Did you know what you want, Lainey? Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t get Holly to get anything besides the vanilla bean cupcake and Earl Grey tea.”
“I don’t suppose you sell Stella’s pink lemonade cake in cupcake form?”
“Of course we do! And it goes perfectly with our strawberry green tea. You ladies talk business and I’ll be back with your desserts.”
“So, Lainey, I don’t want to waste anyone’s time here. What’s it going to take to get you to say yes to this interview?”
Cupcakes and straight talk. Lainey found she liked Holly Evans very much.
“I guess I want to know why you think I should. I mean, it’s an old story that’s been done to death. Sure, it’s flared up a little because of my...affiliation with Cooper Mead, but there’s nothing new to report.”
“I disagree completely,” Holly told her, pausing for a moment as Rebecca placed their tea and cupcakes in front of them before disappearing back into the kitchen. “I think you’ve shied away from the media since it happened, and so they are the ones who’ve controlled the narrative. I’m offering you the chance to tell your side of the story.”
Lainey picked the glossy strawberry off the top of her cupcake and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. After all this time hiding, could it be that putting it all out there was the answer to getting her life back in order?
Cooper’s words rang in her ears. You’re the only one standing in your way now.
Maybe he was right. But now Fate was giving her the perfect chance to clear the air and put the entire fiasco behind her. She’d be a fool not to take it.
Decision made, Lainey reached for her cupcake. “You know what? You talk a good game, Holly Evans. I’m in.”
* * *
LAINEY HAD JOINED Holly in her studio three days later, and the Women’s Sport Network interview had been a smashing success. The callers had been incredibly supportive, and while internet trolls and haters like Lenny and his crew still existed, they seemed less daunting to her now that she knew there were people who were on her side, people who’d failed and moved on, like she was trying to do. Hockey was her past, and it didn’t have to control her anymore. In fact, her present was going pretty darn well.
She and Coop had fallen into a routine. When Cooper was on the road, he’d FaceTime her from whatever fancy hotel room he was staying in. When the games were in town, she’d head over to his place after her bar shift was over. Cooper had even given her a key and cleared her with Pete and the rest of his doorman cronies. She told herself she spent so much time there because his rain-head shower and Jacuzzi tub were state-of-the art, and much better than her downgraded hotel accommodations, but while that was definitely true, there were other reasons. Reasons that made her palms itch and her chest tighten. Reasons that she wasn’t quite ready to name for fear that if she did, she might not be the same person anymore.
She glanced over at Brett, who was still shoving clothes into his suitcase even though he was due at the airport in a little over an hour. She stood impatiently in her brot
her’s apartment, waiting for him to show her the ins and outs of feeding his stupid betta fish while he was on the road because his housekeeping service was out of commission thanks to the flu.
“Hurry up! I need to get to Cooper’s to say goodbye before he leaves.”
“I’m hurrying. You’ve got the key already. Just read the back of the food pellets. Brett Jr. is on the dining room table.”
Lainey rolled her eyes. He’d named his fish Brett Jr., because of course he had. She wandered in the fish’s general direction, but was distracted by the ring of her phone. Her screen lit up with a photo of her Realtor’s toothy smile.
“Hi, Jeannie. Tell me the good news. Are you at your office? I can meet you in two hours to sign...What do you mean he rescinded the offer? Is he there right now? Put him on.” Lainey tapped her foot as she waited for Allan Bashir to get on the line.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Bashir. It’s Lainey Harper. Jeannie said you changed your mind about our deal?”
“It’s not a deal until the paperwork is signed. Someone else made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Lainey shook her head, rejecting the rejection. She needed this sale. “What can I do to change your mind back?”
“Final-round playoff tickets and ten thousand dollars are of more use to me than your bar. I liked the location, but there are others that will do just as well. It’s a good piece of property. You will sell soon. But it won’t be to be me. Good day, Ms. Harper.”
The click seemed to reverberate through her body with the finality of the slam of a door.
Brett emerged from his room with his suitcase. “Okay, I think I’m ready.” He flopped into his recliner and pulled out his phone. “Did you have any questions about the fish stuff? Hello? Earth to Lainey.”
“It’s over. He’s not buying the bar. He changed his mind.”
“Sucks. Sorry.” Brett mumbled the words, thumbs tapping furiously against the screen.
“It does. It really does. We were so close to a deal, and then he changes his mind? Because of hockey tickets? And who would pay him to not buy the bar? It doesn’t make any sense...” Lainey frowned as the pieces started to fit together. Brett was engrossed in his phone, refusing to make eye contact.
When you’re on the team, there are ways of getting tickets.
A hollow feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.
“What did you do? Brett, what did you do?”
“He wasn’t the right guy! He jammed out of your deal for a couple of playoff games and some cash! How does a guy like that deserve Dad’s bar?”
“It’s not Dad’s bar! He left it to me, Brett. It’s my bar. And I can do whatever I want with it. I can’t believe you sabotaged this deal! Did you do this before?” The realization stunned her. “Is this why all of the other offers fell through? Is this why you were asking Cooper for hockey tickets?”
Brett’s lack of denial was as good as a confession. “I thought if you couldn’t sell it, you might stay.”
“That’s not fair, Brett. I have plans for my life, too.”
“Why do they have to be in LA? Or wherever the hell else you go? What’s wrong with here?”
“I have a job to get back to! I haven’t taken an assignment in weeks.”
“The bar can be your job.”
She shook her head. She didn’t know how to explain it to him. She didn’t want to live with ghosts, and Portland was full of ghosts for her.
“You’re just like him. Family means nothing to you.” Brett said the words quietly, but they echoed like a gunshot. She braced herself with a hand on the wall, as the impact made her stagger.
“How dare you say that to me?” The hurtful comparison spurred her into action, and she pulled his keys from her pocket and set them on the arm of the couch. “Find someone else to feed your stupid fish.” Lainey headed for the door.
“See? You’re bailing right now. Just like you always do. Just like he did.”
Brett raised his voice to ensure she heard him as she pulled the door shut behind her.
16
COOPER STARED OUT the floor-to-ceiling window in his master bedroom. This apartment had a hell of a view of the city, he decided as he made the final loop with his black silk tie and shimmied his Windsor knot into place.
Lainey had said she’d stop by after her meeting and say goodbye before the car service came to take him to the airport.
After flying through the first three stages of the playoffs, the Storm had finally met their match, and the Wisconsin Blades were proving to be worthy opponents. In less than an hour, he and his team would be winging their way East, down a game and in danger of elimination. He should be nervous about that. But he wasn’t. He was nervous about the tickets in the breast pocket of his suit jacket, which was currently laid out on the foot of the bed.
Tickets he was going to give to Lainey when he asked her if she’d consider coming to watch him play.
When Cooper had taken the trade to Portland, he’d been thinking about nothing but hockey. Get in, win the championship, do what needed to be done. To his surprise, his time with the Storm had been about so much more than that. Seeing how settled his teammates were—the lives guys like Luke and Eric were building—had changed his perspective. The sport was important to them, but they also had people they cared about, causes they were committed to.
And here he was, in his thirties, and the teammate he had the most in common with was a teenager.
He had a few good years of hockey left in him, he knew that, but for the first time, Cooper found himself thinking about his life after that. About who he wanted to share it with. He understood why she’d kept her distance. He’d seen his share of guys shy away from the arena after a career-ending injury. Plus all that stuff with her dad? But if he and Lainey were going to be something...
The muffled bang of the condo’s front door stole his attention. “You are not going to believe what happened to me.”
Speaking of which...
Cooper exhaled, a futile attempt to calm the flurry of nerves in his stomach, and grabbed his suit jacket, tugging it on as he walked out of the bedroom.
“You remember all that nice stuff I said about Brett finally growing up? I take it back.”
Lainey put her purse on the coffee table and walked over to him. “That’s a nice suit. You look good in blue,” she said, reaching up to straighten his tie before she pressed a kiss to his lips.
It was all so...domestic, her fussing over him, telling him about her day.
Cooper reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close so he could kiss her long and slow and proper.
“What was that for?” Lainey looked dazed when he finally let her go.
“Just felt like it. What did Brett do now?”
His question shattered the dreamy expression his kiss had inspired and he followed along as she took off for the kitchen with a frown. “You know all those great offers on the bar that keep falling through at the last minute?” She tugged open the fridge to peruse the selection. “That was all him. He’s been bribing them so I’d be stuck with the bar!”
Lainey grabbed a bottle of water, offered him one, but Cooper shook his head.
“But you don’t actually feel stuck with the bar anymore, do you?” Cooper chose his words carefully. “I mean, it’s been going well, right? You’re getting along better with the staff. It’s turning a profit.”
She twisted the cap off her bottle and took a drink. “You sound like him. It’s better, sure, but if you’re asking me if I want to keep the Sportsman and run it until the end of time, then no. In fact, I’m considering closing it down. It might be easier to unload as a lot. The real estate agent mentioned the option before. I guess if I’m ever going to get out of this place, it’s time to explore it
.”
Coop tugged on his tie. It was strangling him all of a sudden. “Oh. That’s great. That you have options.”
She cocked a brow at him. “You don’t sound like you think it’s great.”
“No, it’s... I’m just...surprised. And a bit distracted by all your news. I wanted to talk to you about something before I left, but now...this might not be the right moment.”
Lainey capped her water and set it on the counter beside her. “Go ahead, Slick. I’m rapt with attention.”
Well, shit.
What the hell was he supposed to do with this?
“I was, I mean, tomorrow night in Wisconsin is a do-or-die game for us. But if we win...” Coop reached into the breast pocket of his suit, bypassing his phone for the tickets he’d stowed there. “Well, if we win, then we’ll be coming back to play in Portland, and these tickets are going to be worth a whole lot.”
“Oh, my God, are those game seven tickets?”
Lainey’s eyes rounded at the sight, and Cooper relaxed a little.
Tell her how you feel.
“They are.” He held them out to her. “And I wanted you to have them, because it would mean a lot if—”
Lainey threw herself into his arms before he finished the sentence. “Are you kidding me?” She laughed, and Coop couldn’t have wiped the goofy grin that had overtaken his face if you’d paid him. She pulled back, accepting the tickets and inspecting them. “These are incredible seats! I can get him back!”
“Sorry, what?” His grin withered.
“He killed our deal for playoff tickets and ten grand. If I give him these and drop the price by twelve grand, there’s no way Mr. Bashir won’t reconsider. You just sold my bar, Slick!”
Cooper stood there. He had a weird feeling in his chest, almost like his heart was buzzing. Was that shock setting in? It took a long moment before he realized the sensation was due to the vibration of his phone. He fumbled it out of his pocket and answered. “Mead. Okay, I’ll be right down.”
Playing Dirty Page 16