Play to Win

by Kelly Jamieson

  She enters my office. She’s all sophisticated in a gray pencil skirt, silky blue blouse, and heels, her dark, layered hair brushing her shoulders. The Condors Foundation is separate from the Condors Hockey Club, but works closely with the team to raise funds to support underserved youth in the area. Having grown up in California, the daughter of the Condors’ owner, I have no doubt Everly has all the necessary connections not only in sports but in government, education, and other businesses. She’s always been super together, mature from the time she was a toddler, smart, and confident.

  “When did you get into town?” she asks.

  “Wednesday night.”

  “And here you are, nose to the grindstone already.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “You’re taking time off for your parents’ party on Saturday, though, right?”

  I pause. “You’re coming to the party?”

  “Yeah.” She elevates her eyebrows, the corners of her mouth lifting. “Your mom invited all of us. Not sure if everyone’s coming, though.”

  “Everyone” means almost the entire family—the only one who doesn’t live in California is my cousin Jackson, who plays for the Chicago Aces this year.

  I wait for Everly to say something about me being married, but she doesn’t. I guess Mom’s keeping that as a surprise for everyone.

  “Should be fun,” I say dryly.

  Everly laughs. “As much fun as a 7.0 earthquake.”

  Our eyes meet in shared understanding.

  “Well, I’ll let you get back to work, boss man.” She walks to the door. “Let’s do lunch one day.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Or not.

  I like Everly. Maybe this is a chance for things to be less awkward between everyone.

  Or not.

  Chapter 13

  Lacey

  I’ve hardly seen Théo since Thursday evening when he told me we should just stay friends. Without benefits. He worked late Friday and went to his office this morning too, even on a Saturday.

  It’s okay. I don’t expect him to entertain me. So what if I don’t know anyone here. I’ve been exploring the neighborhood. This afternoon, I’m walking on the beach, soaking up sunshine and sea air, loving the feel of sand beneath my bare feet, my flip-flops dangling from one hand.

  “Byron! Byron, come back!”

  The female voice shouting attracts my attention. I look up the beach and see a big dog loping toward me, a golden retriever, I think. His tongue is hanging out in a happy smile as he bounds, dragging his leash in the sand behind him. A woman is running behind him with no hope of catching him.

  Instantly, I run toward him. “Byron! Hey, Byron, you good boy, come here!” He slows his pace and I drop to a crouch, extending my hands. He stops and eyes me. One hand still out, palm down, I grab his leash with the other hand.

  “Did you escape, you rascal?” I ask him. He sniffs my hand and I gently rub under his chin.

  “Oh thank you!” The woman chasing him arrives and halts. “Thank you so much!”

  She’s panicked, breathing hard, looking nearly in tears. I stand and hand the leash to her. “No problem. He’s a gorgeous dog.”

  She swallows, then takes a deep breath and exhales. “He yanked the leash out of my hand to chase a bird. Jeez, Byron.”

  She’s my age, I think, with long dark hair, smooth tawny skin, and dark eyes. She looks a lot like Jessica Alba. “You’re a hero,” she says to me. “A heroine.”

  I laugh. “Just happy to help.” I eye Byron wistfully. “I love dogs.”

  “You don’t have one?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “I’m Taylor.” She extends a hand. “We live just over there.” She nods to a big beach house a few buildings down from Théo’s.

  “Hi, I’m Lacey.” We shake. “We’re neighbors.”

  “Really? Did you just move in?”

  “Yes.” I point to Théo’s condo. “Right there.”

  “The hockey house.”

  I laugh. “Yes! I’m, uh, my husband”—wow, that’s still weird—“is the new manager of the Condors.”

  “No kidding!” Her eyes widen. “Cool! I’m a big Condors fan. I met Bobby Ponomarenko a couple of times. I was wondering who would move in now he’s gone.”

  We start walking on the beach together, Taylor’s grip on Byron’s leash firm as he trots along.

  “I’m not a puck bunny,” she adds. “Okay, maybe I am. Hockey players are hot.”

  Hmmm. “Yeah, I guess they are.” Apparently, I’ve been missing out on something all the time we had a hockey team in Vegas. Théo is hot, that’s for sure.

  “How long have you been married?” Taylor asks.

  “Three days.”

  She stops and gapes at me. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” I grimace. “We did a quickie marriage in Vegas before we left to come here.”

  “That is so romantic!”

  Okay, I like this girl. “Tonight I’m meeting his family for the first time. Other than his mother.” I tell her the story of Aline dropping in, and she laughs.

  “Way to make a good first impression. I’m sure she’ll love you, though. They all will.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “I’m a good judge of character. And so is Byron. If he likes you, you’re good people.”

  “Dogs always know,” I agree.

  We keep walking awhile, chatting and getting to know each other, then turn around back toward our homes.

  “Guess I better get home,” Taylor says. “I have a date tonight. New guy I met online.”

  “Good luck.” We pause in front of her huge house. “You live alone here?”

  “I live with my parents.” One corner of her mouth turns down. “Don’t judge me.”

  “Hey, I’m not.” I hold up my hands. “I’m unemployed.”

  “But you’re married.” She sighs. “I make not bad money, but everything’s so expensive here. I’m saving to try to buy a small condo somewhere eventually.”

  “It takes time. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “Hey, same. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re probably barely out of college.”

  “Yeah.” She nods. “That’s true. I just finished grad school. Thanks. We should get together again. Maybe have lunch or something.”

  “That would be nice.”

  When I get home, I see Manny outside on his deck. “Hey, Manny. How’s it going?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Not bad. I just saved a dog and made a friend.”

  “Cool. Come on over. Want a beer?”

  I shrug. I’ve got nothing else to do. “Sure.”

  We hang out on his deck for a while, drinking a couple of beers and yakking. He’s a nice guy.

  “I better go get ready,” I eventually say, rising from the comfy chair. “We’re going to Théo’s parents’ place tonight for a big family thing.”

  “Wow. The whole Wynn family. That’s like going to Buckingham Palace to meet the queen.”

  I blink. “Uh. Who’s the queen in the family?”

  He laughs. “Okay, the king. Bob Wynn. Hockey royalty.”

  Jesus. I suck in a breath. “Great.”

  I spend the next hour getting ready, trying to calm the birds’ wings fluttering in my belly by taking slow breaths in and out. I hear Théo come in and I call out a hello from my closed bathroom door.

  “I’m going to change,” he calls back and heads upstairs.

  I’m wearing one of the dresses we picked up the other day, which I hope is appropriate for both meeting the parents and wowing the ex-girlfriend. It’s pretty bare and form-fitting, with narrow straps,
V neckline and just-above-the-knee hem, but it’s a demure pink with deeper pink and gray flowers. I already have a tan from a couple of days in the sun and I add a little shimmery bronzer to my cheeks and décolletage to play it up.

  I take one more peek at myself in the mirror, rubbing my lips together to spread my lip gloss and fluffing my hair, then exit the bathroom.

  Théo’s steps thud down the stairs. “Ready?”

  “You bet.” I flash a big smile.

  His gaze moves over me, taking in my hair and the dress.

  “Do I look okay?”

  “You look amazing.” His eyes linger on my shoulders. “Is that the dress we bought at Nordstrom?”

  “Yes. It was on sale,” I quickly add.

  “Whatever it was, it’s worth every fucking penny.” He clears his throat.

  “Thank you. You look good too.”

  He’s wearing narrow beige pants, a white shirt, and a casual blazer in charcoal. His feet are bare inside brown loafers. He’s so damn gorgeous I want to cry.

  He hands me a small box. “Here. I thought this might be a good idea.”

  I take it slowly and open it. Inside is a gold ring—just a simple, polished band. “Right. Good idea.”

  “Hopefully it fits.”

  I remove it from the box. We didn’t have rings the night we got married, so we skipped over that, and it feels weird to be doing this. I hesitate, staring at the ring. Getting married and saying vows seemed like fun that night, but putting my own wedding ring onto my finger makes my throat thicken. I’m not a girl who’s dreamed about getting married; I’ve had to be too practical the last few years. But still…

  I give my head a mental shake and push the ring onto my finger. “It fits.”

  “I got one too.” He holds up his left hand to show me.

  “Now girls won’t try to pick you up because they’ll think you’re married.”

  “I am married.”

  “Well, not really. I mean, if you met someone and you wanted to go out with her, you could totally do that.”

  He frowns. “I’m not going to do that.”

  I get a little kick out of riling him a bit. “Okay.”

  He goes to the kitchen cupboard and takes out a little bottle of pills, pops one in his mouth, and washes it down with water. I’ve learned these are meds for his stomach ulcer. He doesn’t have one anymore, but sometimes he takes them if he feels pain. “I think I could use one of those too.” I press a hand to my stomach.

  He grins. “Let’s go. It’ll probably take us an hour to get to Mom and Dad’s place.” He grabs his keys and a bottle of wine.

  “An hour? Jesus. Where are we going?” I ask on the way out.

  “Rolling Hills. They live closer to Long Beach, where the Eagles play.”

  This makes me shake my head. “Eagles. The hockey team. Right.”

  Traffic is crazy on the freeway, but I guess this is California life.

  “Well, you’re stuck with me now,” I say once we’re cruising. “I know you’ve been avoiding me.”

  He shakes his head, his lips twitching.

  “How’s work been going? Are you making progress?”

  “I feel like I’ve accomplished nothing.”

  “I’m sure you have.”

  “I have a lot to learn.”

  “Do you know who’s going to be at this shindig?”

  “According to my aunt Everly, ‘everyone.’ ”

  “Eeek.”

  “I know. I feel the same way.”

  He doesn’t look terrified; his grip on the steering wheel is relaxed and confident.

  “Okay, so who’s everyone? I need to be prepared.”

  “Well, you met my mom. Obviously, my dad will be there.”

  “Matthew.”

  “Right. And my brother, I assume. JP.”

  “And that bitch Emma.”

  He snorts. “Yeah. And my uncle Mark. He’s divorced. I don’t know if he’s seeing anyone right now. His daughter, Riley, may be there. She’s a goalie coach for the Eagles’ farm team.”

  “Whoa. That’s impressive. She plays goal?”

  “She used to. She played for the Canadian national women’s team.”

  I picture a woman who looks like Théo—six feet tall and muscular.

  “Grandpa and Chelsea have been invited. Everly. Maybe she has a date, I don’t know. And her three brothers, Asher, Harrison, and Noah.”

  “Crap.”

  “The only one who won’t be there is my cousin Jackson. He lives in Chicago. They’re still in the playoffs.”

  I’m memorizing all these names. I’m good with names, but this is a lot. I’m also trying not to freak out.

  Théo’s parents’ home is a low bungalow that appears cute and modest—a white picket fence, a few trees, and lots of flowers. We approach the front door, painted a charming dark green, with matching shutters on the windows. There are already lots of cars parked in the massive stone driveway, so others must already be here.

  Théo opens the door and steps in without ringing the bell, but an alarm system beeps and his mom appears in the foyer. “Hello! You’re here!” She gives Théo a hug and a kiss on his cheek, then turns to me, beaming. “Hello again, Lacey.” She hugs me too, enveloping me in the scent of expensive perfume.

  “Here, Mom, this is for you.” Théo hands her the wine.

  “Oh, thank you, you didn’t need to bring that. Come in, come in.” She leads the way into the house.

  The exterior is deceptive because inside the place is immense—a spacious living room on the right, a big family room, dining room and kitchen on the left, all open to each other. High vaulted ceilings create an airy feel. The furnishings are a sort of French country style that’s elegant but relaxed.

  And the rooms are full of people.

  Gah.

  “Hey, Théo!” a few voices call. Some are sitting on the big couches and chairs, others are standing. I have a vague impression of well-dressed, dark-haired people, mostly men, as Théo starts saying hi.

  “Welcome to California,” says one younger man seated on a couch. He stands and moves to shake Théo’s hand.

  “Thanks, Ash.”

  The door pings again and with a tight smile, Aline says, “That must be JP.” She hurries off and returns momentarily followed by a young man and a woman. Aline’s jaw is set and her eyes flash, but she’s still smiling.

  “Okay!” Aline claps her hands and calls out, “Everyone’s here now and Théo has a surprise for you.”

  Oh, here we go.

  I feel eyes on me. I smile. Théo takes my hand and leads me farther into the living room.

  “What’s your surprise?” asks a sophisticated-looking woman standing near the fireplace.

  “I want you all to meet Lacey.” He turns and smiles down at me. “My wife.”

  There’s a shocked beat of silence and then a roar. The woman who spoke lets out a little shriek, the men all shout, and Aline smiles.

  For a few moments, it’s insanity as everyone swarms to congratulate us with hugs and handshakes. I don’t know who anyone is, but I keep smiling.

  “Okay, okay,” Théo says. “You’re going to scare the crap out of Lacey. Settle down and let me introduce her to you all.”

  “First let me get you drinks,” Aline says. “We have champagne! Matt, can you open it now?”

  “You bet.” Théo’s dad and mom head to the kitchen.

  Théo starts introducing me to people. I recognize the names Théo mentioned earlier, glad I knew them ahead of time. When he gets to JP, tension thickens the air around us and Théo’s jaw tightens.

  “Nice to meet you, JP,” I murmur.

  “And t
his is Emma,” JP says.

  The blonde next to him extends a hand to shake mine. She’s really pretty, with big blue eyes, long eyelashes, and perfect skin. “Hello, Lucy.”

  “It’s Lacey.” Bitch. “Lovely to meet you. Great shoes.”

  She glances down. “Thanks.”

  I actually am envious of the leopard Louboutins. They’re fabulous.

  I study JP. There’s a definite family resemblance, and he and Théo are similar in size and build. And yet there’s something different. JP is good-looking, but I don’t feel any kind of tug of attraction like I do with Théo.

  I catch the tense exchange of scowls between the brothers.

  “Boys.” An older man approaches us. “Good to see you both.”

  This must be Théo and JP’s grandfather. And Théo’s boss. I have to admit I’m curious to meet the patriarch of this big hockey family. The king. Ha.

  “Hi, Grandpa,” JP says with a smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

  “That’s not my fault,” Mr. Wynn growls, shaking his grandson’s hand.

  JP’s smile falters. “This is Emma. Emma, my grandfather Bob Wynn.”

  “You look familiar.” Mr. Wynn eyes Emma with narrowed eyes.

  “That’s because the last time you saw her she was with Théo,” Aline says tautly, still smiling.

  The air goes static around us.

  Emma grimace-smiles and shakes Mr. Wynn’s hand. “Yes, we have met before.”

  Mr. Wynn stares at Emma then at JP.

  “She’s with me now,” JP says.

  Théo’s watching this with what appears to be…amusement. Huh. I slide my arm through his and hug it. He glances down at me and winks. I meet his eyes and we share a look of hilarity. I’m surprised he’s not more tense about this meeting. Although I do feel the hostility between him and JP.

  “And this is Lacey,” Théo says.

  Bob Wynn is in his seventies and fixes me with a smile that’s still…wow, sexy. In a charming devil kind of way. He’s a big man too, although not as big as his grandsons, with a twinkle in his dark blue eyes as he greets me. “For Chrissakes, Théo, you could have told me you were married. Jesus.”