45. Wren
45
WREN
…five months later
The season is almost over and there’s a chance LA could win the Cup. Of course, they’re facing off against the Crushers and Stefan is out to win. Even if it wasn’t against New York, he’d still be fired up but considering who they are playing, he’s even more gung-ho now.
This morning I met with Tania and Leif, and let’s just say, the meeting did NOT go in my favor, well it did, but it also didn’t.
… “Wren, you really are a miracle worker,” Tania praises. “It’s been nearly five months and Stefan hasn’t been caught with his pants down or appeared on WtB once.” I chuckle to myself at that reference because I’ve had his pants down on many occasions in that time. “I think at the end of the season, you can return to your life in New York and put Stefan behind you.”
Sitting here, I continue to listen to Jaxson, Leif, and Tania sing my praises, but I’m trying to figure out a way to be able to stay because the thought of leaving Stefan hurts. Maybe I can ask Jaxson to transfer me to the LA office?
I knew this day was coming. Now that it’s here, I’m not ready to leave but at the same time, I’m not ready to have our relationship splashed on WtB and in the tabloids either. I keep thinking about the fallout of my time with Simon Simon. I know unequivocally, Stefan is nothing like that slimeball asshat, but no matter how you look at him, he’s my client … and not sleeping with Stefan was why Jaxson hired me. His words were something along the lines of “you won’t let it happen again because I know you’ve learned your lesson” but, clearly, I haven’t because here I am, hopelessly in love with my client because I slept with him.
But like exposing our relationship, I’m a big chicken and don’t ask him. At the end of this season, I’ll be returning to New York to work with Colton Bolton—yes, I still chuckle at his name every time I say it. The guy’s had a tough time since joining the Crushers and, let’s just say, he’s giving Stefan a run for his money when it comes to who’s the biggest douche.
Thankfully, the season will be over, which means Stefan can come visit me. However, if I just put my big girl panties on, I could just stay here and live happily ever after with my hockey stud.
The whir of the garage door motor kicks in, and I know it’s time to face Stefan and tell him I’m leaving, but how do you tell the man you love you’re moving twenty-eight hundred miles away ’cause you’re a chicken?