Win Big

by Kelly Jamieson

  Too bad my vagina’s not exactly opposed to being hunted by him. In fact, my vagina is quite interested in him.

  “What about Dan?” Mom probes. “You were sitting with him last night. I thought maybe you two are working things out.”

  “I thought you didn’t like me dating him.”

  “Well, he’s a little older than you, but you’re a very mature young woman, and he seems nice.”

  “Okay, it was Dad who didn’t want me seeing him.”

  She bites her lip. “You know your father worries about you.”

  “I know.” I swallow the sigh. He has reason to. We never talk about what happened when I was a teenager, but it’s always there, a hulking pachyderm in the room. “But I’m all grown up now. I make good choices.”

  She smiles. “I know you do.”

  “You changed the subject,” I point out.

  “Yes.” Her smile is satisfied.

  I let the issue of Dad and the lawsuit go for now, but I don’t tell Mom that all of us are working on this, and we’re going to figure it out. Because I don’t like to fail.

  Chapter 8

  Everly

  “You’re joking.” I stare at Murray, the communications director of the Condors.

  He smiles. “Nope. What’s the problem with that?”

  What can I say? Telling him I don’t want to work with Wyatt Bell isn’t a good enough reason. We need an ambassador for Hockey for All. The initiative is sponsored by the NHL and the players’ association. Each team names an ambassador, which are to be announced February first. The ambassadors promote inclusion and diversity, and reach out to underrepresented, marginalized, or disadvantaged areas of the cities they compete in to encourage young people to play hockey, emphasizing the life skills it can teach and how it can empower youth. We don’t have a lot of time, as we need to get photographs taken and marketing materials done. I asked him weeks ago to consider who this year’s ambassador should be and have been pestering him pretty much every day since.

  “He’ll be a great ambassador,” Murray says. “Everyone loves him. Fans love him and the guys in the room love him too.”

  This is true. “Fine.” I sigh.

  “I’ll tell him to come see you after practice.”

  “Okay.”

  I’ll be in my office all day with a ton of work to be done. Of course, now knowing Wyatt is going to show up at some point affects my focus, and I immerse myself in spreadsheets to distract me.

  A little after noon, I’m contemplating going out to grab a sandwich, but I know as soon as I leave Wyatt will come. And a few minutes later he does stroll in, all sexy, confident swagger.

  “Hey,” he says, rapping his knuckles on my open door. “I’m supposed to see you.”

  “Did Murray tell you what it’s about?”

  “Yeah.” He frowns and takes a few steps into my office. “I gotta say, I don’t know if I’m the best one for this. I don’t have a lot of spare time.”

  I purse my lips. “What are you so busy doing in your spare time?”

  His mouth tightens. “Stuff.”

  “Partying. Women.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s it. Can’t let a good cause interfere with my social life.”

  “I don’t think this will interfere that much. As the ambassador for the team, you’ll have to participate in some of the events throughout the month. We need to set up a time for a photo shoot. There are some dates with things already planned, but we can work other outreach efforts into your schedule.”

  “I think we should talk about it over lunch,” he says. “I’m starving.”

  “Don’t they feed you after practice?”

  “Yeah, but I was told to get my ass up here to see you.”

  I can’t suppress a smile. “Ah.”

  “You hungry?”

  I want to lie, but…“Yeah.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “It has to be a quick lunch, I’ve got a lot to do. Apparently some charity watchdog is researching us for a report they put out every year.”

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “Who knows how they’ll spin things.” I grab my purse and coat from the small cupboard in my office and follow him out.

  We can walk to Aurora, a couple of blocks away. A chill wind tugs at my coat and the scarf wrapped around my neck, and I tug it tighter as we walk down the city street.

  Wyatt doesn’t say much until we get to the restaurant. The hostess greets him with a wide smile of blindingly white teeth, her long blond hair hanging in waves down her back. “For two?”

  “Yes.”

  She checks the seating plan, and nods to a woman standing next to the lectern, pointing down. The other woman, equally gorgeous and wearing a skintight, short black dress, also flashes Wyatt a big smile and says, “Come this way.”

  She leads us to a window seat, which is lovely. The sun is bright and warm here inside, out of the wind. Wyatt helps me with my coat, hanging it on a nearby coatrack. I have to admit, he does have nice manners. He even holds my chair for me.

  I’ve been here plenty of times; it’s close and convenient for business lunches, and the food is good. So I don’t have to take much time to look over the menu before deciding on the quiche Lorraine. Wyatt orders a croque monsieur.

  “You know about this initiative,” I say, once we’ve ordered. It’s existed for a few years now.

  “Sure.” He leans back in his chair, shoulders wide in a navy sweater over a blue-and-white-checked shirt, long legs stretched out so far under the table they’re on my side.

  We discuss the goals of the program in general and then some of the specific things he’ll be required to participate in.

  “Your job as an ambassador is to promote diversity and inclusion initiatives. To be a leader in the locker room and a leader in the community. And, of course, a public advocate.”

  He nods.

  “We’ll be featuring you in public service announcements,” I tell him. “Some print, some video that will be on TV and social media. We’ll need you to use the hashtag on social media throughout the month. There are two broadcast awareness nights, and one of them is at our arena.”

  Wyatt surprises me with his awareness of the initiative, actually offering up a couple of good ideas.

  We go over who the special ambassadors are this year, leaders from various marginalized groups. It turns out he’s good friends with Baz Chadha, one of the first Punjabi players in the league.

  “We played together in Rimouski,” Wyatt says with a grin. “He’s a year younger than me.”

  “Wow. The hockey world is small.” I tap my fingers on the table. “I wonder if we could get you two together somehow.”

  “He plays for Calgary. Do we have a game against them in February?”

  “Don’t you know?” I shoot him an amused glance and pick up my phone. “Oh hey, yes, we do. Okay, let me see what I can work out.” I pause. “If you have time, of course.” I add a little sarcastic edge to my voice.

  One corner of his mouth hitches up. “It’s actually an honor to be asked to do this.”

  The low, humble tone of his words makes me look at him sharply. I suspect he’s being sarcastic too. He doesn’t meet my eyes for a couple of seconds and when he does I see…he’s sincere.

  “I’m glad you realize it,” I say.

  “I’m not a total asshole.”

  I make a face as if to say that’s debatable.

  “I’ll even buy you lunch,” he says, shifting the vibe from heavy to light. “Although you’re probably richer than me.”

  I snort. “As if. I have no money.”

  “Uh-huh. What about that little shack you’re living in?”

  “Oh. Well. I had some family help with that.”

  “I bet.
”

  I glare at him. “Seriously, I support myself. And I know I make about three percent of the money you do.”

  “That’s pretty specific.” He rubs his stubbled chin. “You’ve been checking how much I make?”

  “It’s common knowledge.”

  He nods, eyes dancing. “Sure.”

  “Do you have time to come back to the office and meet with Amy? She’s the one in charge of this initiative.”

  His bottom lip pushes out. “It’s not you?”

  I laugh. “Sorry. I’m involved, though. We can go over the schedule she’s got so far, and you can put things in your calendar.”

  He nods. “That would be good.

  “How was your shopping trip with your mother?”

  Change of subject. “It was nice. I got a new leather jacket.”

  His lips twitch. “Sounds hot. Is it black?”

  “Why, yes, it is.”

  Shaking his head, he says, “I meant your discussion with her. The one you were dreading.”

  I sigh. “It wasn’t very enlightening. The bad part was that she also knows Dad’s having problems.” I try to steady my voice. Just thinking about my dad maybe having Alzheimer’s is enough to choke me up, never mind talking about it. “She’s tried to get him to go to the doctor, but he doesn’t want to. She says he’s in denial.”

  “Or maybe he’s scared,” Wyatt says softly.

  “It’s hard to imagine Dad being scared.”

  “Everyone’s scared.”

  I bite my bottom lip. “Even you?”

  “Sure.” He flashes a cocky grin. “I’m scared of alligators.”

  I can’t stop my laughter, even though I know he’s being flippant when we were having a serious conversation.

  I rub my temple. “Well, luckily you’re in California and not Florida.”

  “And what about the other issue? The lawsuit? Did your mom tell all?”

  I scowl. “No. She refused. She knows what’s going on and basically told me not to worry my little head about it.”

  His eyes warm with sympathy. “But you are worried.”

  “Mmm. Maybe more annoyed about it. They’re all acting like children, and over what? Money? Phhhht.”

  “Money’s a big issue. Causes lots of problems in families.”

  “True. Maybe it’s better not to have any.”

  “There’s your privilege showing.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “You’re right. Sorry.” This man…he’s surprisingly intuitive and thoughtful, and yet any time things get serious, he breaks the tension with a smart-ass remark. And he just called me on my privilege. I respect anyone who does that.

  My chest tightens as if my bra suddenly shrank three band sizes.

  I’d like to defend myself to him. I know I’m privileged, and I try to do some good with it. Bah. He doesn’t need to know that.

  He pays the bill with a credit card and helps me into my coat. Then we stroll back to the arena, the wind gusting in our faces this time.

  “This is horrible weather!” I complain.

  He laughs. “This is nothing.”

  “It’s all relative, I guess. Are you happy you ended up here in California?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  He says that with such heartfelt gratitude, I’m puzzled. “Most players don’t like being traded.”

  “Change is hard,” he says generically. “It was hard seeing Detroit win the Cup the year after I left.”

  “Oooh. Yeah. That would be hard to take.”

  He shrugs, not looking too bent about it. “It was a good move for me.”

  “To the Condors?” I shoot him a sideways, skeptical glance. “I mean, I’m a fan, obviously, but we haven’t even made the playoffs for years.”

  “Doing better this year, though. Théo’s made some great moves.”

  “True.” This conversation leaves me feeling unsatisfied. I want to know more about him.

  Crap.

  We flash our security badges to Phil, the security guy on duty, and enter the arena to head up to the offices. I find Amy, and the three of us sit at the table in my office to look at schedules. Wyatt pulls out his phone and brings up a calendar. And already we have a conflict.

  “I scheduled the photo shoot for Thursday this week,” Amy says. “Before everyone takes off for the All Star break.”

  Wyatt shakes his head. “I can’t do it that day.”

  Amy and I glance at each other.

  Wyatt’s jaw tightens. “Sorry, we’ll have to reschedule it.”

  I run my tongue over my teeth. “Okay, fine. Are you staying in town for the break?”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  “I thought all you guys were going to Tahoe to go skiing,” I comment. I’ve heard talk of this trip.

  He makes a noise in his throat. “Not me.”

  “Okay, then, how’s Friday?”

  “That works.”

  “I need to check with Grant,” Amy says, referring to the team photographer. “Hopefully he’s available Friday. I’ll get the jerseys done up with your name and number. And we have some T-shirts. I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  I eye him and swallow a sigh. We continue our meeting and fortunately no other conflicts come up.

  Wyatt has his jacket on and I walk him out to the reception area. He cups my elbow and murmurs in my ear, “Walk to the elevator with me.”

  I glance at Jennifer at the reception desk, then allow him to lead me out of the offices.

  He stops at the elevator but doesn’t press the button. “Thanks for having lunch with me.”

  “Thank you for buying lunch.”

  “We should do it again. Or maybe dinner.”

  “Are you…asking me out?”

  His mouth lifts at the corners. “Yeah.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “You said you’re not dating the old mayor dude.”

  I huff out a laugh. “I’m not. That’s not it. It’s just…you play for the team.”

  “You work for the Foundation. There’s not a conflict.”

  “My dad owns the team.”

  He grimaces. “I know.” His gaze moves over my face and my insides melt a little. When he lifts a hand and strokes my hair off my face so gently, heat ripples through my belly. “But there’s something here.”

  There is. I want to nod, but stop myself. I hold his gaze. “I’m just another vagina to you.”

  He chokes. “What?”

  “You’re a vagina hunter.”

  He laughs softly. “Seriously?”

  “Everyone knows it. You even admit it. You like variety. You said that.” I don’t know why I’m pushing that, because I’m sure not looking for a relationship, and especially not with him. I could use five fingers to check off all the reasons it’s a bad idea.

  “Hmm. I did say that. But I’m only with one woman at a time. After New Year’s Eve at my place, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…about this mouth…” His thumb brushes over my bottom lip. Heat slides through me and every nerve ending goes electrified. “About how you taste. And how you kissed me back.” His head is bent now and his mouth is so close to mine again; I can feel his breath on my cheek. I steel myself against the urge to turn my head…just a bit…and meet his mouth with mine. I’m quivering inside, aching, burning. I’ve been thinking the same things about him.

  I swallow. Barely a breath away, we stay like that, not looking at each other. His warmth permeates my clothing, my skin. I draw in his scent…clean and crisp and spicy. He must have showered because he doesn’t smell like gross hockey equipment.

  I shouldn’t do this.

  For a moment, I’m transported back to when I was sixteen. There was
a man then I wanted to be with…so badly that I didn’t hesitate or question my judgment. I threw good sense into the ocean and went with my desires. It was the worst mistake of my life. I’ve tried so hard to never repeat that kind of blunder. I’m older and wiser now. I know better.

  “Dinner,” Wyatt breathes. “Thursday night.”

  “I thought you were busy Thursday.”

  “During the day. My evening is free. Come on, Everly. We can go somewhere nice and insult each other until we’re both so horny we can’t stand it.”

  I drop my head forward, laughing. “Well, when you put it that way…”

  “Good.” He brushes a kiss over my cheek. “Give me your phone number.”

  I recite it and he enters it into his phone. “I’ll call you.”

  “Text me. I hate talking on the phone.”

  He lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t question it. Again, not judging me. “Okay.”

  Now he pushes the elevator button and the doors slide open right away. My dad steps out.

  Jesus.

  I step back, trying to look casual about it. Wyatt seems unphased. “Hi, Mr. Wynn. How are you?”

  Dad smiles. “Hello, Wyatt. I’m great, you?”

  “Couldn’t be better. Just had a meeting with your daughter.”

  Dad shifts his gaze to me, his expression softening. “Hi, Evvie. What are you two meeting about?”

  “Hockey for All,” I say. “Wyatt is our ambassador this year.”

  “Excellent. Good for you. I’m sure you’ll represent the team well.”

  “I’ll do my best, sir.” Wyatt and Dad have changed places, Wyatt now in the elevator and Dad standing next to me. “Bye.” He lifts a casual hand in a farewell gesture, his gaze lingering on my face as Dad turns around, a half smirk on his beautiful mouth.

  Asshole.

  I can’t help but smile, shaking my head as I follow Dad down the hall.

  “I like that boy,” Dad says.

  “Everyone likes him,” I mutter.

  Why wouldn’t they? He’s charming and fun, he has a way of making you feel interesting and worthy, and he’s persuasive. Somehow he managed to convince me to say yes to dinner, when I know I shouldn’t.

  Seeing Dad is a reminder of exactly why.