Chapter 20
Don’t take the bait
Harley
The chauffeured car drops me off in front of a building in Hell’s Kitchen.
With the help of a valet wearing white gloves, I step out of the car and onto the sidewalk.
If it wasn’t for the red carpet and the men and women all decked out as if they were on their way to a Mediterranean vacation all headed in the same direction, The Hudson Lounge would never give off the vibe of one of New York’s premiere venues.
You can’t always judge a book by its cover.
You’re a prime example of that, Harl.
I touch the dazzler of a necklace that cost twice as much as a mid-level car I have no business wearing. The least I can do is to overdeliver as Kaz’s fake girlfriend.
I open my blue satin clutch that matches my pretty shoes and search for my phone. I let out a nervous exhale and shoot Erik a quick text to let him know I’ve arrived.
His response is immediate.
I place my phone inside my clutch, tuck it underneath my arm, and pace back and forth. I stop my pacing when I spot a tall, handsome mixed-race man wearing white pants, a white shirt, and a light blue jacket that complements his light brown skin to perfection. He flashes me a dazzling smile.
I wave.
With a confident stride, Erik heads my way. “Harley, you look stunning.”
I blush. “Thank you. I love the vintage flare.” As a petite, never in a million years would I have picked a strapless midi dress with a fitted bodice and full A-line skirt, embellished with sparkling crystals and intricate broderie anglaise.
Erik’s brown eyes drop to my feet before meeting my gaze. “Nice shoes. I can see why that vibrant color combined with a yellow dress would leave a lasting impression on a man.”
The reminder of the outfit I was wearing when I met Kaz in the Hamptons deepens my blush. “I still can’t figure out how Kaz knew I no longer owned these shoes.”
“In his quest to make sure his new roommate had everything she needed, my buddy might or might not have taken a peek inside your wardrobe and discovered the shoes were missing from your collection.”
I’m at a loss for words.
“But you didn’t hear it from me.” He zips his lips.
Dead. I’m dead.
I clear my throat. “Thanks so much for hanging out with me until Kaz shows up.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he says. “I must apologize for not picking you up, but when Kaz texted me to let me know he had to deal with a crisis, I already had another conference call booked.”
“Don’t worry about it. You and Kaz are busy businessman doing important things. I’m unemployed.”
“Not for long.” Erik winks.
I smile. “Other than kicking butt at a second career as CEOs, you and Kaz were rockstars on the ice.”
Erik taps his left leg. “My glory days as a hockey player are behind me. It was a tremendous blow both physically and emotionally. Hockey was my life.”
I didn’t mean for my comment to bring back bad memories.
I shift my stance. “Granted, I’ve never watched a hockey game in my life—”
“You might as well plunge the blade of a pair of skates in my heart.” Erik clenches his chest and staggers back a few steps.
I shrug. “I prefer my hockey between the pages of a romance book.”
His lips form a thin line. “Not the same thing.”
I tilt my head side to side. “It’s better because hockey fictional heroes are men written by women, and by definition, they’re way better than real hockey players.”
He rolls his eyes.
I giggle. “What I was trying to say is since your dad was an NFL superstar, you didn’t want to follow in his footsteps?”
“I blame my mom for my love of hockey,” he says. “My grandfather and uncles are diehard fans. I’m talking about the bunch of loudmouths who show up at every game with face painted with their team’s colors, making a ruckus every time there’s a score against the other team.”
“Did they do that when you were playing?”
“Yup. Not embarrassing at all.” He narrows his eyes.
“You should’ve seen them during the playoffs.
” He lets out a dramatic sigh. “When I was selected to be part of Team USA at the Olympics, they fucking lost their everloving minds. Every single member of my family traveled to watch the game in person—including my grandparents who had never left the country.”
I laugh.
“I’m poking fun at my family, but their unwavering support meant everything during my career,” he says. “The other reason why I chose hockey is because I loved the game and becoming pro wouldn’t subject me to always being compared to my old man.”
“You escaped Kaz’s unfortunate fate.”
“The poor guy had to live with that monkey on his back his whole career.” He shakes his head. “Speaking of your soon to be boss, he’s on his way.”
Boss. Roommate. Fake boyfriend. Stepdad I’d like to fuck. Kaz is accumulating the titles.
“Grazie Mille’s owner must be cursing the day he ever bought that restaurant,” I say.
Erik nods. “Talk about a string of bad luck. After his crooked manager was arrested, and he fired the bartender with sticky fingers, he had to frantically search for an interim manager to oversee the staff. Now, the Brazilian owner is dealing with a faulty hood ventilation system. Under Kaz’s order, the staff shut down the restaurant due to the smoke pouring into the dining room. ”
Kaz’s text was succinct. I had no idea he was dealing with this much.
“After all the upheaval, it’s no surprise the owner wants to sell,” Erik says.
“Poor guy—” From my peripheral vision I catch a glimpse of a figure. Ice thickens in my veins. “Oh no.”
“What is it?” Erik turns around.
Chett struts towards the building’s entrance, a model-tall redhead in a stunning blue flowy dress hanging from his arm, who I’m sure is from a prominent hockey family. He’s too eager to flash his pearly whites at the press flanking the red carpet to notice me.
“I’m surprised to see him here,” Erik says. “In the last four years he’s been invited to this charity event, he’s never bothered to show up, preferring to send his mother. What caused this change of heart?”
Good question.
I was prepared for Devlyn’s snarky remarks and condescending stares, but I wasn’t prepared to come face to face with Chett.
I glance up at Erik. “I was planning on steering far away from Kaz’s ex-wife. I plan on doing the same with my ex-boyfriend. When Chett’s had too many drinks, his asshole meter goes way up.” My lips curl in disgust.
Erik shakes his head. “His charming personality—drunk or sober—stems from his enabler of a mother who never told him no.” He takes a step closer. “The weird codependent relationship he has with Devlyn was enough for Kaz to want a divorce thirty days into the marriage.”
Whoa.
“Her cheating on him was his ticket out of that toxic marriage.”
I rub a hand up and down my arm. “I dislike that woman—”
I do a double take.
Holy hunk of a man.
I have to mentally coax myself so my jaw doesn’t hang open.
Kaz in his jersey is every hockey romance girl’s fantasy.
Kaz in a suit is pure suit porn.
Kaz dressed in casual clothes is something to behold.
Kaz in the gray sweatpants and long sleeve white t-shirt he wears when he comes in my room to sleep on the chair so he can be the slayer of my nightmare demons is sinful.
Kaz in a light blue linen suit, white shirt sans tie, and a pair of blue suede shoes that match his suit… be still my beating heart and pulsating ovaries.
God, the man walks with such swagger.
I resist the urge to fan myself.
Big dick energy, strutting my way.
SDILF, indeed.
Kaz comes to a stop next to his best friend.
“Glad you made it,” Erik says.
Kaz shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Yeah.”
That one word says a lot.
“It was an honor hanging out with your drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend,” Erik says.
Kaz gives me a languorous onceover that has my lady parts doing the cha cha cha like a professional ballroom dancer.
“Drop-dead gorgeous.” He nods. “You took the words right out of my mouth, Erik.” Even though he’s speaking to his best friend, his blue eyes are glued on me. “How did I manage to score the most beautiful woman here tonight?”
“Kaz.” I dance from one foot to the other. Stop or else all these compliments are going to go straight to my head.
“Why are you scolding me, Goldilocks? You left my house this morning looking beautiful, but now… you could stop traffic.”
Okay, if you insist on throwing compliments my way, who am I to stop you?
He gives me another onceover.
If my body temperature rises any further, I’ll combust.
“Judith selected the perfect dress,” he says. “Are the shoes okay?”
As if you had to ask. “I love, love, love the shoes. And the clutch. The eye-popping necklace”—I touch my earlobe—“and dazzling earrings are too much—”
“Haven’t we talked about this already?” He narrows his eyes at me.
“You didn’t let me finish, Mr. Lindstrom. I was going to say they are too much, but because I feel like a princess, no way am I giving them back.”
He nods. “Sounds like you’re with the program.”
Oh, yes, because I’m loving this program. “I’m glad I look the part and I won’t embarrass you tonight.”
“I wouldn’t know what it’s like to feel like a princess, but Goldilocks, you sure as hell look like one.”
My cheeks warm. I’m sure I’m the color of a tomato right now.
“As for you embarrassing me, that’ll never happen.”
If you only knew the skeletons in my closet…
“I’m getting the sense I’m the third wheel here.” Erik pats Kaz on the shoulder. “I’m going to walk the red carpet and answer reporters asking if my fiancée and I have set a date for our wedding for the one-hundredth time.”
“You popped the question a couple days ago, and they’re foaming at the mouth for more,” Kaz says. “Piranhas.”
“I can’t wait for another retired hockey player to make the headlines.” Erik gives Kaz a pointed look.
“Call my ex-wife. She’s an expert at putting me in the news against my will.”
“I wouldn’t talk to that woman even if she was my only lifeline out of purgatory,” Erik says. “All right, you two, I’ll see you inside.”
We stare at Erik’s retreating back.