Chapter 16
I’m going to hell
Kazimir
Ibring up my phone to eye level with Erik’s. “I’m going to do it,” I say, concluding the retelling of the conversation I had with my publicist.
He blinks.
“Oh, now you have nothing to say? You’ve been breaking my balls for months on this, Erik.”
“True, but you’re a stubborn motherfucker. You shut that idea down every time I brought it up.”
He has a good point.
“I can’t believe you sleeping on an armchair all night would bring about this kind of epiphany,” he says.
It was never my intention to fall asleep on that armchair. I’m surprised my back isn’t hurting. “Things happen for a reason. You can either leverage the unexpected or let the opportunity slip through your fingers.”
“And God knows Kazimir Lindstro?m would never let an opportunity slip through his fingers… especially when the prize is so tempting.”
“If you’re talking about the fact that now I have the ammunition I need to pursue my goal of acquiring that Montana craft brewery, but who’s been keeping me at arm’s length, then yes.”
“We both know that’s not what I’m talking about. When it comes to your merger and acquisition goals, aren’t you counting your chickens before they hatch?”
“I just need the owner to crack open the door so I can slip in my big toe. But first, I need to lay down the foundation for him to roll out the red carpet.”
“In other words, an image makeover that will bust open those doors.”
“It’s good as done,” I say.
“Supreme confidence on and off the ice.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe there was a point in time you were shitting bricks because you didn’t think you could take on the management of your own companies when your former CEO moved to Australia. Look at you now.”
“Don’t be fooled, buddy. I still shit bricks every day. I just don’t tell you about it.”
He chuckles. “So, you’re stepping out in a big way at Saturday’s Active Kids fundraising gala?”
“Alina said if I’m going to do this, I might as well—”
A figure with her arms crossed over her chest enters the kitchen.
My eyes bounce up to the fresh-faced blonde and my heart stops as my thoughts evaporate.
I lower my phone.
“Good morning,” Harley says.
Her beautiful, radiant eyes shine at me, the specs of gold and the green melting together in the morning sunlight.
She’s wearing white yoga pants, a yellow t-shirt, and the fluffy, pink slippers I bought her. Her blonde hair is bunched up at the top of her head. She isn’t wearing a whisper of makeup.
No lash extensions.
No injected lips.
No artifice.
Harley Lancaster is glowing.
Good morning, sunshine. “Morning.”
She uncrosses her arms and her nipples salute me. They’re so perky, they’re begging me to—
I’m going to hell.
I’m thirty-nine.
She’s twenty-seven.
She’s my ex-stepson’s ex-girlfriend.
She’s my guest and roommate.
She’s forbidden.
Don’t be an asswipe, Lindstro?m. She needs a soft place to land. Not a hard dick to ride.
“Thanks for the slippers.” She wiggles her tiny feet.
I shift in my seat, hoping to tame my inconvenient boner. Thank God I’m sitting. “The concrete floors are heated, but I wanted you to be comfortable.” My mouth is so dry, it’s like sandpaper coats my throat.
She smiles. “And thanks for the plush terrycloth robe and the French body wash and lotion. It’s like you robbed a bath & body shop. There are so many different lovely fragrances.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to smell like me.” Not unless I’m rubbing against you.
“You’re so thoughtful.” She holds my gaze, smiling at me like I’m her savior.
I clear my throat. “How did you sleep?”
“I feel like a new woman.”
When I woke up this morning, she was sleeping with her back rested against the bedrest. I repositioned her, doing my best not to wake her up, so she wouldn’t wake up with a kink in her neck.
Mission accomplished.
“I thought your couch was comfy,” she says, “but sleeping on the bed in your guestroom was like sleeping on a cloud.”
“I’m glad you had a good night’s sleep. You deserve it after the nightmare.”
She plays with her hair, and a strand pops out of the messy bun on top of her head. “I’m sorry you had to sleep in the armchair.”
“You say that like you pointed a gun at my head and forced me to spend the night there.”
She rolls her eyes.
“I wanted to be close by, in case you had another nightmare.”
She lowers her gaze to her feet before looking up from under her lashes. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m in fine fighting mode.”
“Watch out, New York, Kaz Lindstrom is ready to take on the world.”
Her bright mood suggests she did in fact have a good night’s sleep.
Unlike yesterday, she’s giving hints of the effervescent Harley I met a year ago.
“Since you started a conversation with someone else, why don’t I get on with my day?” Erik says.
Oh, shit. I forgot about Erik. I lift my phone up. “Sorry.”
“I get it. Harley is a lot prettier to look at than I am.”
She gasps.
“Idiot.” I swing my gaze in Harley’s direction. “It’s my friend, Erik. He was at Grazie Mille on the day of the white suit-gate scandal and he’s co-owner of Creamy Heaven.” I turn the phone around.
Harley waves. “Pleased to meet you again, even though I don’t remember you, Erik.”
“The pleasure is mine, Harley. And I’m guessing we’ll see each other real soon…”
I flip the phone around, and in my haste, it almost drops from my hands.
Why is he letting the cat out of the bag? “You’re right, it’s time for you to get on with your day.”
“I’m being dismissed. Message received.” Erik chuckles. “Have a great day, Harley.”
This time, I don’t turn my phone around. I don’t need him to drop more hints.
“The same to you, Erik.”
A small smile quirks at Erik’s lips and he holds my gaze for a few beats. “Call or text with the latest update.”
“I will.”
I end the call.
I turn my attention to Harley. “Hungry?”
“I’m famished.”
“What would you like?”
She shrugs. “Fruits. Yogurt. Toast. Cereal. Muffins. Pancakes. I’m easy. The only thing I can’t go without is coffee.”
I lift my cup. “The beverage of choice to ensure I’m human in the morning. Without it, I’m sure I’d turn into a fictional monster, and New Yorkers would run for their lives.”
“You deliver the funniest lines with the most stoic expression, which makes them even funnier.” She places her fingers over her mouth as if suppressing a laugh.
No one in their right mind would call me funny, but I feel ten feet tall that my permanent state of sarcasm brings a smile to her lips.
“I have all of the food on your breakfast wish list, but I can offer something more interesting than a plain continental breakfast.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“My fridge is always stocked with batches of protein overnight oats I prepare.”
“I’m sold. When I could afford to buy overnight oat jars or smoothie bowls, they were my favorites, but as that breakfast option grew more popular, the prices became astronomical. When I lost everything, buying the necessary ingredients at the grocery store wasn’t on the budget.”
“Now that I know you like them so much, I’ll make sure they’re always some in the fridge.”
“This is five-star accommodation.”
“I only roll one way, baby.”
She grins. “Lucky me.”
No, lucky me, but we can talk about that a little later. “Any allergies?”
She shakes her head. “None.”
“Take a seat.” I point to a stool.
She obeys.
I get up and head to the fridge.
I already had a blueberry muffin, but I was waiting for her to have my second breakfast.
I open the refrigerator door and peruse the contents. “What will it be? Strawberry and cream? Chocolate chips and banana? Yellow mellow? Pistachio?”
Her eyes light up at that last one.
“I make the pistachio one with pistachio butter from Italy,” I say.
She lifts a hand up. “Say no more.”
“Good choice.”
“What’s in the yellow mellow?”
“Coconut milk, mango, pineapple, and banana.”
“That sounds good as well.”
“You’re allowed to have both.”
She considers me. “Nah, my eyes are always bigger than my belly.”
“Yesterday, you inhaled the burger, the hand-cut fries, and the onion rings without taking a breath.”
“I was in too much pain in the morning to have breakfast,” she says.
Shit. “Feeling better today?”
“Much.”
“Glad to hear it.” I grab two jars, a couple of spoons from the drawer, and drop them on the countertop. “I assume you want your coffee after you’re done with the oats?”
“I like to give coffee my full attention.”
A girl after my own heart.
I sit on a stool across from her. “We’re gonna get along just fine as roommates.”
She cringes. “I feel like I’m taking over your space.”
“A tiny thing like you? Nonsense.”
“You’re not just saying that? I mean, I’m intruding on your bachelor pad.”
Sunshiny Harley just left the room and she’s replaced with an insecure woman.
I hold her worried gaze. “I’m a straight shooter in everything I do. If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Okay.” She offers a small nod.
I reach for a spoon and offer it to her. “Dig in.”
She grabs it and drops it on the countertop. She uses both hands to unscrew the lid of her jar.
Damn, I should’ve done that for her.
She sticks the spoon inside, scooping up the mixture. She slides the spoon into her mouth and lets out a groan I feel all the way down to my balls.
I adjust myself in my seat.
“Oh, wow.” Her green eyes are huge. “I’m going to gain weight living under your roof.”
Even though she’s lost a lot of weight since I last saw her, she’s still stunning. But that curvy little body in that yellow dress in the Hamptons… she was breathtaking.
I unscrew the lid of my jar and dig in.
Harley finishes in record time.
“You’re ready for coffee now?”
“I’m going to take a minute to allow the pistachio cream to linger in my mouth.”
I shake off the thought of something else that’s creamy lingering in her mouth.
“Let’s discuss what’s on the calendar for today,” I say.
“I don’t have anything on my calendar because I haven’t started my new job yet, but I’m all ears.”
Sassy little one. “I’m not going to go into the office,” I say. “I’m going to stay close by and work downstairs. I have a lot of catching up to do. Yesterday, I didn’t get any work done—”
“It’s all my fault—”
“Harley.”
“Okay, okay, I didn’t put a gun to your head and force you to do anything you didn’t want to.”
“Now that we have that settled, may I continue?”
She winces. “Sorry for interrupting you.”
“You may want to go out and explore the neighborhood. Later this afternoon, it would be great for us to talk about your position.”
She offers an enthusiastic nod. “Going out for a walk sounds like a good idea. And no problem about talking later about the position.”
“One thing I’d like to talk about this morning is the Active Kids charity event gala that’s taking place in two days.
It’s the most important charity dedicated to ensuring children from low-income families in communities that are struggling to make ends meet remain active through sports in all five boroughs.
The majority of the donation goes to offering grants to cover registration fees and buying new gear for sports that require equipment. ”
“What a worthy cause.” Harley leans forward against the counter.
“It is. I always attend because Active Kids offers hope to kids who have it rough…” I pull at the collar of my long sleeve t-shirt.
She’s hanging on my every word.
“The evening is such a big deal, it always makes the front page of sports and celebrity publications. It brings out the biggest names in sports.”
“It’s no wonder the press will be out in full force,” she says. “When you step out like this, do you document it on your personal socials or on your business socials?”
I thought we’d wait until later to talk about her job, but her questions are pertinent ones.
“I haven’t done much with my personal social media presence in a long while.
When I was still in the NHL, my posts revolved around my workout routines, the fuel food I consumed to remain at the top of my game, the team’s wins, and highlights from my charity.
I never posted anything personal… other than my last post which was in Nana’s memory. ”
She brings a hand to her heart, her lips pulling down in a frown.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “As for the restaurant… I usually appoint an enthusiastic employee to take care of posting on social media, but what we’re doing could use some improvement.”
“And that’s where I come in.” She sits a little straighter in her chair. “You want me to hype the upcoming Active Kids charity event so the followers on your personal socials and the restaurant ones donate?” She claps. “That, I can do with my eyes closed.”
“I was envisioning you participating in a different way.”
“Sorry. I might’ve gotten carried away there. What did you have in mind?”
“I was planning on attending alone…”
“Since your ex-wife doesn’t have a filter, I can understand why. Is Devlyn going to be at the event?”
I nod. “Yes, she’s going to be there with the captain of the Boston Bandits.”
“Not good. The press is going to have a field day.”
“I intend on keeping my distance, but my ex-wife is a loose cannon.”
“That woman is off her rocker.” Harley pinches her lips together. “How are you going to deal with this? Her presence there shouldn’t prevent you from participating in such an incredible evening.”
“I won’t allow her to dictate my life,” I say. “There’s a way to distract the press and have them talk about something other than an imminent World War III.”
“What’s the plan?”
I open my mouth, but hesitate.
It was a solid plan when I thought about it when I woke up this morning and when I told Erik about it, but what if my request is so far out, she refuses?
“Kaz, let me know if there’s any way I can help.” Expectant eyes stare up at me.
“Will you accompany me as my fake girlfriend?”