Not A Chance (Heartstrings #2)

11. Indie

“One thousand seven hundred and seventy-six stairs Indie!” Connor mimed gasping for breath as he clutched his chest comedically. “What happened to ‘piece of cake’?”

“Hey, was acting your fallback career if hockey didn’t work out? You didn’t actually walk any stairs at all. We both took the elevator, so what are you going on about? I didn’t know you could only climb the stairs twice a year.” I raised an eyebrow in question.

“But the point is you would have held me to that promise if the stairs were an option! I’m damn lucky that’s the truth. That’s the last time I agree to anything with Indie Layne without reading the fine print first.” Connor, a grown man, pouted, and it was freaking adorable. Those auburn curls and blue eyes were deadly.

I held up my cocktail glass for him to “cheers” with his beer bottle. “Always read the Ts and Cs, my friend,” I offered.

We both took a sip, smiling at each other. It had been a great late-afternoon outing. I got to cross something off my experience list, and Connor’s easy demeanor made him good company .

Even if my legs still felt a bit like jelly after standing on the glass floor over eleven hundred feet off the ground. I had learned today that I preferred my adventures without heights. Or at least where the floor beneath me was opaque.

The smile slipped slowly off my face as I let my gaze drift down to my glass on the table. Connor was such a good guy. I felt bad that I was going to have to make it clear that we could only be friends. I wanted to feel something for him, even just for a brief Canadian hockey player fling while I was here.

Unfortunately, I’d handed off my heart to a certain goalie all those years ago and never gotten it back.

My parents having the emotional warmth of their granite countertops, I’d had no resources to repair all the cracks that had formed the moment Theo rejected me.

“Hey, Indie, look at me.” He reached across the table to lightly put his hand on top of mine, respectfully withdrawing it again once I made eye contact with him.

His gorgeous face with his kind eyes looked back at me with concern. I must be tired to let my feelings show on my face. I usually had a better game than this.

“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to feel bad. No hard feelings, eh?” He smiled kindly.

Why, just why, did he have to be such a sweetheart? So nice . So Canadian about everything. I didn’t feel bad that nothing had developed between us after one date—especially a date that he had invited himself along on—but I was struck with more of a regretful wistfulness, wishing that I could feel something for him. Connor seemed like an easy person to be in a relationship with. He wouldn’t be afraid to do the work to be a good boyfriend. His heart was on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I thought I could jump into something that I just can’t give you. It’s not that I don’t like you. You’re wonderful. It’s just…”

“You’re not attracted to me either. You feel like you’re dating your brother?” He chuckled.

“I don’t have a brother, so I don’t know about that. It’s more like dating my high school best friend. But now we’ve gone out on a date and potentially ruined the friendship. Everything is just so easy between us, like we’ve known each other for years.” I covered my face with my hands dramatically.

“The rom-coms were all lieees!” I added dramatic horror to my tone. I was keen to get away from any feelings talk.

As much as I liked Connor, I kept my secrets close to my chest. The more potential a feeling had to hurt me, the deeper I tucked it away.

Even if I was tempted to talk about Theo because this maple-syrup-flavored blip in my life would be over in mere months, I couldn’t imagine admitting pining after him for more than a decade. I’d sound insane.

“Wait… What do you mean either ?”

“You just caught on to that, eh?” He gave me another sweet smile before continuing. “Sorry, you’re beautiful, of course. I had to shoot my shot. But it just isn’t there, you know?”

As he spoke, I waved away his beautiful comment. So much emphasis had been put on me to make sure to maintain the Layne image I put little stock in someone who was just focused on my looks.

“Indie, what I mean is we just don’t have that kind of chemistry. We’re in the friend zone, not the ‘I can’t keep my eyes off you and you’re on my mind all the time’ thing.”

He reached across and patted my hand in reassurance. He was right, of course. All I felt from his hand touching mine was a warm, comfortable feeling. It could be Emery’s or Abbie’s hand, with the exception of its size and callouses from his job.

I didn’t feel any electricity or fireworks. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over to the other side of the bar, where Theo sat with the rest of the team. I was shocked to find his eyes already focused on our table.

I shifted my gaze back to Connor, who gave me a knowing smile.

“What I am pretty sure of is that you feel that kind of obsessive feeling for someone else on the team.”

He inclined his head in Theo’s direction. I could deny it, but I’d been caught out. I tried to brush it off as best I could.

“It’s nothing, and it’s impossible anyway. He doesn’t feel that way about me. We have a long history. His sister is my best friend. That’s all.”

“Trust me, Indie. He may not have felt the same in the past, but he’s sure as shit not happy about me sitting here with me touching you if that cavern of frown lines in his forehead is any indication.”

“I just can’t go there, Connor.” More than couldn’t. I refused to allow Theo any power to hurt me again. Once had been enough.

“You may not have to. It might be coming for you sooner than you think,” Connor’s tone was cheeky.

Before I could continue, he went on, now a smaller, sadder smile on his face. “Definitely not impossible. From the way I’ve seen you handle Campbell like no one else has been able to, I doubt there are very many things in the world that are impossible for Indie Layne.”

“Let’s start over and figure out how to be friends. You’d be the first friend I have in Toronto. And I could sure use one,” I offered.

I missed Abbie and Emery terribly. I hadn’t realized how much I had grown to count on their presence as a comfort in my everyday life.

“Good plan. Friends it is.” His shoulders relaxed as he said the words. He really was too sweet. It was clear that he’d been worried about hurting my feelings.

“I have to tell you, I’m not very good at making friends. I only have two back home. I might need some help.” I dropped the volume of my voice, slightly embarrassed to admit that I didn’t open myself up very often to new people.

“Years of practice over here. Gotta be good with new people when you get a whole new locker room full of them almost every hockey season.” He pointed at himself. “I’ve got you covered.”

“Okay, good. I know you grew up in Ontario. But I have literally seen nothing of Toronto other than the subway platforms and the grocery store near my apartment. And now the CN Tower. Do you think we could do the tourist thing again sometime? It’d be nice to see it with a friend.”

“Remind me to show you Ste. Saint Marie on a map, babe. Then you won’t feel bad for asking. I’ve only spent weekends here and there in Toronto before now. Let’s do it.”

I hoped that Connor was just one of those unusually perceptive people-watchers, like Abbie. I’d thought that I’d been good at treating Theo in a strictly professional way, not focusing on him more than any of the other guys on the team. I didn’t want my inconvenient feelings broadcasted to my coworkers or, worse, Theo himself.

Connor started making a list on his phone of all the places he wanted to go in the city.

“Listen, we should start with the St. Lawrence Market. Sounds like there’s a lot of good food there. They even have, ugh, kangaroo meat. Don’t they know you don’t eat your friends?” He wrinkled his nose.

I chanced one more look over at Theo. He was still looking in our direction, his lips pressed into a firm line.

Focused on his phone for the moment, Connor didn’t notice my distraction. He continued to rattle off options as he scrolled. “Then there’s Casa Loma. I wonder if it’s haunted? And then maybe we should do something culture-y, like the Royal Ontario Museum. They have dinosaurs, at least, so it won’t be all boring vases.” He looked up at me briefly, maybe trying to read if I took his “boring vase” musing the wrong way.

“I’m game.” I could only chuckle. While I could appreciate art, I, too, preferred variety if I was going to a museum.

It was a struggle to keep my concentration on Connor’s growing list, my mind fixated on the man across the room. Theo could think whatever he wanted about Connor and me. The small, petty part of me I tried to keep reined in preened at the idea of Theo getting the wrong idea here.

He could be uncomfortable for a change.

The comforting feelings from my non-date with Connor didn’t last. When my phone rang at 8:30 a.m. the following morning, it could only be one person.

My father.

Everyone knew my workdays were late-night affairs. He just didn’t care. If he was ready to work at 5:30 a.m. San Diego time, he expected the same from everyone else. At least the time difference wasn’t reversed.

Stomach clenching with the knowledge I couldn’t ignore his call, I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Usually I put calls on speaker because I hated talking on the phone to begin with, but the thought of my father’s voice booming through my private space made me ill .

“Hello?”

“Indigo. Why haven’t I heard from you?” My father had never been one for pleasantries in private. He only seemed to care about me falling in line. “Just because you are in another country doesn’t mean I don’t expect to be kept up to date. Tell me what they’ve got you doing?”

I’d assumed that when he’d asked whatever powerful friend he’d tapped to get me this job, the job description itself would have been explained to him. Or maybe he’d been so keen to force me out of my former job—since he was done “letting” me be an embarrassment by daring to be satisfied with my status quo—he’d felt that the association with the most valuable sports franchise in the NHL was sufficient to achieve his goal.

“Uh, right. Well, I am responsible for writing some of the game night social media posts during the home games. And my boss has me coordinating the players after the games for their media interviews.”

“Coordinating” was a generous word for Jermaine or the team lead, Lynn, sending me to snag players after the game finished.

“Make sure you’re actively seeking out every opportunity to excel. I don’t want to hear through the grapevine that Gerald Layne’s daughter is coasting her way through a cushy job in an attempt to catch the eye of some second-rate hockey player. It’s unthinkable to imagine a match between a Layne and a sports star. My god.” Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I could hear the physical recoil he was experiencing in his voice.

There were so many things wrong with that statement it left me speechless.

“Anyway,” he continued as if my lack of response was inconsequential, “just remember what you’re there to do: learn some useful skills, impress the management, and stay out of trouble. The last thing we need is a scandal, especially in this economy.”

Even though I’d flown under the radar my whole life, never once rebelling the way I’d truly wanted to, he apparently needed me to confirm I would behave myself.

“Indigo?” His tone became sharper. “I want you to think very closely about who you associate with during this next year. You are not there to socialize.”

“Of course. I would never do anything to hurt your reputation, Father.” Not yet, at least. He was in for a wake-up call once I was out from under his thumb and I could make my own choices.

“Good. Remember your place.” He hung up without a goodbye.

Holy shit . How did he know about my non-date with Connor less than twenty-four hours later? My stomach clenched at the idea he was having me monitored by someone in the Tempests organization. He seemed to have a way of getting information so quickly that TMZ would be envious.

I’d been an idiot to think that being a couple of thousand miles away would somehow put me out of his reach. I should have known better.

Reputation was everything to my father. It was an unsettling feeling to now be the focus of his attention. Every other time he’d tried to steer me in a certain direction, my obstinance had won out, and he’d just given up on me. This persistence of his was new when it came to me.

I didn’t know what he’d do next. It made me nauseous to imagine the possibilities.

He’d literally ignored me for the majority of my twenty-five-year lifespan. With the amount of disruption he’d caused in so little time, I would rather go back to being invisible to him.

All the contentment I’d been able to find since arriving in Toronto evaporated with that realization. His call took on a more sinister tone in retrospect.

It hadn’t been a “checking up on me” call. It had been a warning.

Fuck . I wished I could go back to a couple of minutes ago and not answer his call. It’d been so nice just to sit with Connor last night, feeling like I’d found an ally in my temporary reality.

Now, I knew better. My father wasn’t going to give me a reprieve until he had everything he wanted out of me.

Was this all about just keeping me in line for every second he could until I got my inheritance? Or was he planning something else?