Point of No Return

by Olivia Luck

  “We’re meeting Blake in the cafeteria here. Ready?” Dominic surfaces from his phone, his lips pressed together in that stern way of his.

  “I didn’t know there was a cafeteria in the building,” I say as Dom leads us through a maze of hallways. With a sharp left turn, we arrive at two wide gold doors labeled Mess Hall. “Kind of like summer camp, huh?”

  Dominic shoots me a quizzical arched eyebrow. “Never went to camp. Did you?” With a flat palm, he presses the door open ahead of us.

  “Something like that,” I murmur. In another world, my parents shipped my sister and me off to Bible camp every year.

  “There you are. Glad you could join us for some fine dining.” Blake’s deep voice comes from behind me, and I turn around to greet him. He engulfs me in a friendly hug.

  “I didn’t know there was a dining room here. You and Stella have been holding out on me,” I tease back though my lips fail to tilt up in a smile. Those come far less frequently these days.

  “Have you met Cam Stone?” The words tug me from my dismal thoughts as my gaze turns to the broad man standing around the same height as Blake. A navy hoodie stretches across his broad chest. From the low-slung sweatpants and the broad shoulders, I’d guess he’s a player on the team. He has longish dirty blond hair and that kind of facial hair that’s too perfect to be by accident. It takes a confident man to pull off a beard and mustache well.

  “No, I don’t think so. Violet Harper.” My voice catches on the last word. I never got around to changing my last name to Baccino when I married Max. Three months into the marriage wasn’t enough time to take his on before . . .

  “Hey, Violet.” This Cam has a velvety smooth voice. Deep timbre. Warm and welcoming.

  He smiles easily at me, taking a step toward me with an outstretched hand. Hesitantly, I glance down at what one might consider a paw. A wide palm and short, clean fingernails wait expectantly while I fight my indecision to touch a man I hardly know.

  Pushing aside my uncertainty, I place my hand in his. Set against his skin, my hand appears tiny and milky white. Rough calluses on his palm confirm my suspicions that he’s a hockey player. Long, sturdy fingers grip my hand in a soothing gesture. The contrast of his open, friendly attitude is stark against my trepidation. I’m too busy caught studying the difference between us to realize the handshake is over and he’s released my hand.

  “Cam’s our guy. The goalie, assistant cap, and on the committee for your event,” Blake tells me as we walk toward a buffet line. There are other players and Scrapers employees sitting at a smattering of rectangle tables in the room. No one pays us any attention; probably all used to the boss patrolling through the informal dining room.

  “Very nice. We’ll be working together. Maybe I can pick your brain about what hockey players like for a party,” I say while Blake hands me a white plate.

  “Not sure what I know about party planning, but I’ll give it a shot,” Cam says. There’s something unfamiliar about his accent. From the way his about sounded like aboot. No surprise there, the guys on the hockey team come from all over the world.

  “Is that a Canadian accent?” I ask him while I load my plate with salad and he piles his high with vegetables and chicken breast. I don’t know much about this sport, but I do know the bulk of players in the NHL come from Canada.

  “Born and raised in Toronto. What gave my secret away?” he jokes.

  Shaking my head, I follow him toward an empty table. “Sorry. That was probably a little invasive.”

  “All good,” he says easily, making me feel comfortable with his laid-back attitude. “How can I help?”

  “It’s not so much about party planning, per se,” I explain once I’m sitting across from Cam. Blake and Dominic paused a few tables back, talking with a couple of men in athletic gear. “You might know if I’m going in the wrong direction with my planning. That is if I actually get the job.”

  “You will,” Cam says confidently. “Even if you weren’t talented, and from what I hear you are, Stella sings your praises all day. Blake wouldn’t do anything to upset a hair on her head.” His words evoke a soft if not strained smile. A knuckle of envy taps against my ribs. I used to have that—someone who adored me.

  “True enough. I don’t want to disappoint anyone, though. This event would be huge for my career—oh, excuse me.” Vibrating from the bag I laid next to my chair interrupts our conversation. I quickly read a text from Felix; he says he has plans tonight and won’t be able to hang out with me. Without responding, I place the phone on the table and glance at Cam apologetically.

  He waves a relaxed hand toward me while he chews.

  “What’s in your bag of tricks?” Two more plates click against the tabletop when Dominic and Blake join our conversation. Blake gives me a pointed but joking look.

  “Budget estimates, sample event decks, a Moleskin notebook, and three different colored pens,” I say.

  By the impressed nod, I can tell Blake didn’t expect me to answer with a trove of resources for this event. I know deep down it’s a sure thing that I get the job, but I want to earn it. That means I’ll be relentless in ensuring everything about this fundraiser is perfect. Down to the letter.

  “Will you be at the meeting, Cameron?” My cheeks heat. “Cam is short for Cameron, right?”

  He seems to take no offense to the name adjustment. “Cameron’s on my birth certificate. And yes, I’ll be at the meeting. PR planned this meeting around the team schedule so I could come. Scrapers are off tonight then back on the road tomorrow. These two are coming with us on this trip to keep the team out of trouble.” Cameron smiles then, revealing a row of white, straight teeth.

  “Someone has to,” Blake grumbles good-naturedly.

  “Coach already put me on babysitting duty,” Dominic sighs.

  “What does that mean?” Amused, I watch the men joke about their trip to Los Angeles.

  “Every night a different member of the staff has to make sure they’re all in bed by curfew. For all the testosterone these guys carry around, you’d think they wouldn’t be so sensitive. If you wake one of them up for a room check, there’s a lot of bitching and moaning to suffer through,” Dominic explains.

  “Stella tells me you’re thinking about getting a dog?” Blake points the question to me.

  Genuine enthusiasm builds as I explain, “I’m seriously considering it. So many dogs need a good home. I went to a shelter the other day to meet some. It’s impossible to turn down those sweet puppy dog eyes.”

  “A dog’s a big responsibility. You up for it?”

  Come again? I turn to fully face Dominic, both eyebrows high on my forehead.

  “Quite up for it, Dominic. I’ve had dogs all my life until I moved to the city. Do I not seem capable?” The last year isn’t the greatest testament to my ability to care for something other than myself. If it weren’t for Felix, Stella, and Blake, I might have disintegrated into thin air, but I’m not on trial here and I certainly don’t answer to Dominic.

  A retort builds on the tip of my tongue when all of a sudden a string of curse words breaks up the conversation. The f-word is blaring from my cell phone. I stare at the device in horror for a moment before snatching the voice, desperately trying to silence it.

  “I don’t a give a f . . .”

  There’s no way I set my phone to this ringtone. Even by mistake! When I pull the phone toward me, I know exactly who did this. A squeal escapes my lips and then I cover my mouth with my hand to squelch the laughter bubbling up.

  “What the hell?” Dominic grabs my phone, silencing it with the push of a button. Then his eyes narrow when he gets a full view of a half-naked man on my phone. It’s Felix, in another one of his silly pranks, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers adorned with flames. He’s flexing his arms like a body builder, a wicked smile on his face.

  “Are you fucking this guy?” If the risqué lyrics startled me, Dominic’s harsh words nearly knock me off my seat. How can he look at
me with such deadly seriousness? I cast a quick look at Blake and then Cam, who are staring at the spectacle in confusion.

  “Felix changed the ringtone that plays when he calls on my phone.” I deliberately ignore Dominic’s fierce expression, yanking my mobile back and displaying it to Blake who throws back his head in laughter.

  “This guy . . .” Blake says.

  I turn back toward Dominic. “It’s Felix,” I emphasize.

  “Should that mean something to me? Just tell me if you’re dating someone; I think I have a right to know.” Dominic’s words are harsh, brutal in fact. He has no right.

  A tidal wave of emotion causes all of my stomach muscles to clench together. Fear slices through me because the thought of having feelings toward another man is terrifying. The simple concept of starting a new relationship exhausts me—the nuisances of dating and hooking up. Am I prepared to do that again? A new boyfriend would have to accept my icky morning breath and be understanding of the moisturizing mask I wear to sleep, even though it messes up the sheets.

  “As I said, the man in the picture is Felix. That should be enough of an answer for you. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find the ladies’ room.” Shoving against the table to jerk my seat backward, I come to a shaky stance.

  Spinning on my heels, I walk with purpose through the cafeterias, stomping through the hallways. A full minute later, I realize that I have no idea where the bathroom is.

  Cameron

  “Spirited, isn’t she?” My lame attempt at a joke falls flat. I don’t think Blake nor Dominic heard me. My friend frowns at Dominic while the latter scowls at the discarded cell phone.

  “What’s your game here, Dom?” Blake asks sharply.

  Yes, I’d like to know that myself. Not that I have any claim over the dark-haired goddess who just floated out of the mess hall. Floated?

  When I saw Violet for the first time, on the night of her engagement to Max no less, I let her go. Met a woman at the bar and fucked the memory of Violet into the recesses of my mind. Fate had a different game plan in mind for me. Violet kept popping up when I least expected her. Violet’s best friend is dating my best friend. More than dating, Blake’s head over heels for Stella—which means I hang out with Stella quite a bit and hear about her Violet.

  And then there was the time several months back, after her husband died, that I saw Violet for myself.

  Blake heaves a heavy sigh when he puts the car into park. He scrubs a hand across his face wearily.

  “You all right?” I ask him quietly. We have just returned from a four-day West Coast tour, and he had traveled with the team. Physically, he was with us, but mentally and emotionally . . . the guy was far away. After Stella’s cousin Max had died, he tried to bear the weight of her grief the best he could.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Still want that beer?” I don’t believe him for a minute so that’s why I accept the offer, wanting to give him some company.

  “Sure.”

  Before we get to the door leading inside the house, it’s pulled open by a bulky dude with dark blond hair. I’ve never seen the guy and my shoulders tense automatically. Stella’s supposed to be here with Violet.

  “Felix,” Blake says shortly, pulling the guy in for a brief hug. “How are they?”

  “Sleeping on the couch. I’m going to take Violet home soon.” It’s then the guy notices me. He nods my way. “What’s up? I’m Felix.”

  Now, I’m even more intrigued. Felix is ‘taking Violet home’? A strange sense of possessiveness makes my shoulders go rigid. Why? I hardly know her, except that her husband just died . . .

  “Cam,” I say gruffly, throat suddenly raw with repressed emotion.

  In the kitchen, I collect the beers while Blake and Felix talked in hushed tones. I want to hear what they’re saying. If it has anything to do with Violet’s wellbeing, I’m interested. Hell, I have this inexplicable desire to protect Violet. But that’s insane. She doesn’t even know my name.

  I leave them to talk, walking through the family room and toward the hallway that leads to the room with the leather recliners and projector screen where we’ll likely end up turning to SportsCenter.

  Then I see her.

  Curled into the corner of the sofa, she’s smaller than I remember. Paler. Dark lashes fan across her cheeks, auburn hair draped around her shoulders. Purple bruises mar the creamy skin beneath her eyes. Even from this position, I can see she’s more gaunt than when I saw her last. Like the vibrant, colorful woman disappeared into the earth with her husband.

  A jolt of awareness staggers me two steps backward. I want to chase away all of her pain.

  No, that’s not right. Not right at all.

  Felix appears, crouching down next to Violet to gently wake her. No! Let her sleep, she needs her rest. I want to stop him. Take care of her. I should keep moving and stop watching, but I can’t. Frozen in place, I observe her sleepy irises adjust to the light.

  “One sec,” she whispers when she’s standing. Violet hasn’t noticed me stuck in place; she’s too busy moving to the loveseat where Stella’s sleeping. Violet brushes back strands of Stella’s hair that cover half her face. She dips down and presses a kiss to Stella’s forehead.

  “I love you.”

  My heart squeezes. A stiff wind could send Violet to her knees, but she walks with her shoulders back and head held high. The will of this woman is remarkable.

  Then Violet travels behind the chair where Blake watches with a forlorn expression. She encircles him in her arms and murmurs, “It will be okay.”

  And that was when I finally got the courage to leave the room. Violet was more than just some woman I was attracted to. Even under her own struggle, she was still looking out for the wellbeing of her friends. She was inspiring.

  Blinking away the memory, I tune back into the conversation.

  “I’m not sure what you mean by that. She’s my brother’s widow. Which means I need to watch out for her. I don’t think it’s appropriate for her to be dating someone a little more than a year after he died.” Dominic brings me back to reality. I want to lean across the table and smack the frown right off his face. If Violet wants to date, who in the hell is he to get in the way?

  Of course, if she’s ready to date, I want to be the one taking her out . . .

  Blake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in a way I’ve seen him do to intimidate the players’ agents. “Fair enough. The first thing you should know about Violet is that Felix is a huge part of her life. He’s her best friend. He’s her family. He’s gay. She met him through your brother because they worked together. Look, I can’t imagine how tough it is for you to have lost Max, but she’s suffering, too. Give her a break.”

  I don’t hear Dominic’s response because I’m too busy tumbling Blake’s words through my mind. Gay, I learned that bit a while back from Stella, but Felix being her only family is something new and, frankly, devastating.

  My eyes lift to find Violet sliding back into her seat and smiling stiffly at Dominic. “Sorry about that,” she mutters awkwardly. I want to defuse the situation as quickly as possible. I’ve perfected that practice since I was young and my older sisters battled it out over a pair of jeans or a lost tube of lip-gloss.

  “I have a dog.”

  Smooth.

  Violet turns toward me with a ghost of a smile on her face. “Cool. What kind?”

  “He’s a mutt. Black. Fifteen pounds. Loving as can be. Not to be presumptuous, but my dog walker just quit. Maybe you want to spend some time dog sitting before taking the plunge. But I’ll tell you, Rocky will convince you to get a dog.”

  “Rocky Stone?” Now a real smile flirts on her lips and my pulse kicks up when she teases me for the connection between my dog’s name and my surname.

  “What can I say, I’m very literal.” Her grin’s contagious, and I find myself using all my strength to keep my returning smile friendly and not flirty. “Actually, he had a name at the shelter. They had
him there for over a month and I didn’t want to confuse him with a name change. Think about it. If you’re interested, tell Blake and he can get ahold of me.”

  “Thanks. I will.” By the earnestness in her voice, I can tell she means it and a flicker of relief burns low in my gut. Something about seeing genuine happiness from Violet ignites the feeling inside me. “I should probably get ready to head to the conference room.” She casts a look at the slim, white-faced watch on her wrist. “See you up there?”

  “I’ll be there,” I reply.

  Violet and Dominic gather their things, leaving Blake and me at the table.

  “Dog walker quit, huh? You almost had me fooled with that one.” Blake smirks in my direction, and I frown back at him.

  “Quit or will be terminated if Violet wants the job, same difference.” Rising to my feet, I avoid his pointed stare and grab my tray. It lands on the counter with a thud and I leave the mess hall without bothering to wait for Blake. I know what he’s going to say.

  “Care to answer the same question I asked Dominic?”

  Pausing for my friend to catch up, I inhale a deep breath. “There’s no game, Blake. I would never do anything to hurt her or even pursue her.” The words taste sour in my mouth. “She looked lost . . .”

  Blake clamps a hand on my shoulder. “I know you wouldn’t hurt her. Needed to hear you say those words out loud.” I nod sharply. “For the record, if there’s anyone good enough for her, it’s you.”

  I’m left ruminating in his praise, wondering if Violet will ever be available again.

  Violet

  “I forgot Felix is your friend,” Dominic says gruffly when we climb a wide staircase to what I remember as the suite of offices for the Scrapers back office. It overlooks the gleaming practice ice rink.

  “Hmm.” This is uber uncomfortable. It seems like every time Dominic and I hang out, he’s accusing me of something. I’m dating someone new, not going out enough, not spending enough time with his family. I know he means well, but most of the time his concern smothers me.

  “What are you doing tonight?”