34. A Different Brett
A DIFFERENT brETT
CHELSEA
I’m sitting in the smallest of Wolfpack HQ’s boardrooms, across from the door, watching the on-screen version of my father check his watch for the umpteenth time.
“I thought Shanna was joining us for this.”
“The meeting doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes, Dad. I told you not to call in this early.”
The Wolfpack put together an amazing road trip, and if they win tonight, they’ll clinch a spot in the playoffs for the first time in franchise history.
Dad had to be in town for some meetings yesterday, so he flew to Nashville early this morning to watch his team do battle live.
I know he’s nervous. And all this unresolved tension between us isn’t helping.
Our professional interactions have been chilly since I walked out on cake.
And while I know we need to address it, I’ve been avoiding it, and so has he.
Right back to our old patterns, using work to ignore reality.
“She’ll be here,” I assure him, as he looks at his watch again. And she will be. Shanna is nothing if not punctual.
Nerves writhe in my stomach like a pit of snakes at the prospect of seeing her again. Carefully, I reorganize the presentation notes I spent all morning rewriting, letting the act of organization calm me.
I’m so intent on the notecards that I flinch in my chair when Shanna bursts through the door less than a minute later.
“I don’t want to fight anymore. Please forgive me for being an awful friend.
” Shanna drops her bag and two binders on the conference table, her words bursting forth like a torrent.
“I did think you and Dustin were perfect, and I know that’s probably why you never told me what an asshat he was when you broke up.
I just want you to be happy, and if you and Brett need to screw each other’s brains out for you to achieve bad-girl serenity, I am fully supportive of that. ”
Oh. God.
I surge to my feet, shaking my head, mouth opening and closing like a betta fish as I try to get words out.
Any. Words.
“Shan—”
My friend doesn’t even pause for breath. “You were just so intent on it being one night of bar sex that seeing him again at your house threw me off and—”
“I’ll kill him.”
Shanna whirls around at the threat, stumbling backward at the sight of the screen. “Mr. L! I didn’t... I wasn’t... I’m totally talking about a different Brett. You don’t know him. He doesn’t play hockey, he... does something else. So, yeah. Are you excited for the game tonight?”
I drop back into my chair.
“Shanna, if you’ll excuse us, I think my daughter and I need to have a chat.”
Guess we’re addressing things now.
Her shoulders slump. “Yes, of course.” She turns to me, regret all over her face, mouthing I’m so sorry as she backs out of the room.
I do my best to smile reassuringly. Much as I dread whatever’s about to happen, I’m relieved that my best friend and I are going to be okay.
I look at my father. His complexion is as red as his tie.
Provided I survive this tirade.
But Shanna and I wouldn’t have been in this situation if I’d been honest with her about Dustin from the start. And Dad and I wouldn’t be in this spot if he’d been honest with me about Mom. Maybe it’s good that we’re about to do the same with Brett.
Because he and I have something real, and I’m tired of tiptoeing around that. The sooner the people in my life who matter to me know that, understand that, the better.
“So I was right to worry.”
I sigh. “You already knew there was something between us.”
“I knew you were distracted by him. And that I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. I didn’t know you were already… that he… that you two… the rest.”
My father won’t look at me.
He rakes a hand through his graying hair.
“Do you know why Brett Sillinger is currently playing defense for the Wolfpack? Because his off-ice screwups are the stuff of legend and his last team didn’t want him there anymore.
He almost threw a promising hockey career away on tabloid bullshit. And you deserve better than that.”
The last part goes a long way toward cooling the venomous response that was building. When I speak, my voice is firm and sure.
“He makes me happy, and what more could you want for me than that?”
“A man who makes good decisions. A man who sticks around when things get tough. A man who—”
“Dad.” I cut him off. “I’m sorry you found out this way. But honestly? My love life isn’t up for discussion. You wouldn’t dissect any other employee’s personal life. Especially not during work hours, and definitely not over a video call.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not talking to my employee right now.”
Shock freezes me in place. I gave him an out and he didn’t take it.
“I know I didn’t deal with what happened with your mother well. But there are things you don’t understand.”
“Andrew told me about Mom.”
His eyes flare. “Andrew knows?”
I nod. “He saw her. More than once.”
Dad looks away from the screen. “I tried so hard to protect you both from that.”
“I know you did. So does he. But you didn’t need to.”
“Of course I did. You didn’t need to know that she…” His breath is ragged, and he reaches up to loosen his tie. “She’s your mother, for God’s sake.”
My smile is sad. “She hasn’t been for a really long time. And I can’t speak for Andrew, but I wish you’d been honest with me instead of trying to preserve the memory of someone who never really existed.”
My dad’s formidable shoulders slump, and he looks utterly defeated. I swallow the urge to pretend things are fine. Not this time. I can’t.
“I’m sorry she hurt you, Dad. She hurt me, too. But Brett’s not like Mom. And if being with him is a mistake, it’s mine to make.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Now, if you need some time to cool off, that’s fine, but otherwise I’d like to tell you about the new direction I have in mind for the Wolfpack Community Foundation next season.”
He harrumphs, crossing his arms over his chest, and I do my best to look calmly professional as I await his decision.
No matter what it is, though, for the first time in a long time, I’m excited to be at work. Because I’m finally going to make the job feel like mine again.
“Well?” my father bites out. “Go get Shanna. I haven’t got all day.”
I smooth my skirt as I get to my feet, hurrying over to the door. When I push it open, Shanna’s right there to tackle-hug me.
“I missed you so much,” she says, and my lips quaver, a relieved smile breaking through as I return it.
“I missed you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about Dustin. Or about what Brett was starting to mean to me.”
She shakes her head, blonde curls tickling my cheek. “And I’m sorry I told you who you were allowed to be.” She pulls back. “I was scared you’d get hurt.”
“I know. But I need you to trust me enough to figure it out.”
“Even if you’re figuring it out with a tattooed hockey player who has his own Wikipedia scandal section?”
“Especially then.”
Shanna gives a decisive nod. “I accept your terms. But I need you to trust me back, okay? I’m Team Chelsea all the way, but I can’t support you if you don’t tell me what’s going on in your life. The good and the bad.”
“I know. I was just so embarrassed by what happened with Dustin and—”
“Screw Dustin. I’ve moved on. And it sounds like you have, too.” Her face softens. “You really care about this guy, huh?”
I bite my lip, remembering how comforting it was having Brett on the other end of the phone the other night to commiserate over a hard day. We didn’t even talk that much, but it helped that he was there.
I don’t know how to say all that, though, so I just nod.
“So is this meeting a bust? Because if so, let’s go get coffee and you can tell me exactly why you’re blushing so much, and I can fill you in on a major plot twist in the saga of the creepy TA who always steals my favorite study carrel.”
“You know it would take more than what happened for Craig London to cancel a meeting.”
Shanna groans and does a double facepalm. “I can’t believe I said all that in front of your dad.” She peeks out from between her fingers. “How mad is he?”
“He’ll get over it.”
She drops her hands and tugs on the hem of her blazer. “Well, let’s do this, then. We’ll knock his socks off with this presentation so he forgets what I said about Brett’s eggplant, and then we’re getting post-embarrassment lattes. My treat.”
A laugh slips out as we head for the meeting room. “Sounds like a plan to me.”