Chapter 44 #2
He blinks. Rolls his lips. Blows out a heavy breath.
“Remy,” he says, his voice even, and my heart sinks.
This is bad. Whatever’s coming next is bad.
“I posted the job listing. Brinkley is leaving and with all the extra work we have and you wanting to do your own thing, I decided I needed a full-timer in addition to you. But you can apply for it.”
Oh. I thought he’d want me just like that.
Just like you thought Jameson wanted to marry you.
But I don’t let on I’m thrown off. I fasten on a smile and say, “Of course I’d love to apply.”
“Look, I have to keep it open for a week. Corporate and HR rules and all.” Then he glances at the door and makes a show of lowering his voice. “But you’d be a leading candidate for sure.”
“Great. Thank you,” I say, even though I’m parsing his words—a leading candidate, not the leading candidate.
“Of course,” he says, then furrows his brow, “I wasn’t expecting this. But I want to hear all about this decision. Let’s do lunch tomorrow, and you can tell me everything. We can catch up then.”
“Sorry, I can’t do tomorrow. My sister is getting married. How about the next day?”
“It’s a working lunch then,” he says, then rubs his hands together. “World domination, here we come.”
That sounds promising, but I wish I didn’t feel so…let down.
What? You thought he was going to hand it to you on a silver platter?
I did think that. But I’ll need to earn it, and that’s okay. That has to be okay. I’m about to leave, but something is rooting me here. This buzzing in my brain that says Don’t stop. Keep going. Say more.
I found the courage this morning to tell Lake about the way I tried to fix my parents’ marriage.
I opened up to him and my friends about my business, and then Daniel.
I can take this newfound openness a step further.
I can share a secret with Daniel and tell him that Lake and I are fake. But that I’m hoping it can be real.
After all, we’re figuring it out.
It only seems right to control the narrative of how we started. The wedding is tomorrow, and really, Daniel deserves to know. I told Clem. I can tell my boss.
“There’s just one more—”
But there’s a knock at the door. Devon pokes her head in, bright and upbeat. “Daniel, we have that interview with The Competitive Edge. Mr. Llewelyn wanted you to join him. They’re all set up in one of the media rooms.”
Daniel pops up in a flash. “I don’t like to leave Theo waiting.”
“Of course not,” I say, disappointed as Daniel takes off.
And I head to my cubicle with a new plan forming. I’ll tell him at lunch. He’ll appreciate the honesty. Maybe it’ll even make me stand out more in the job quest.
In the back of my mind, though, I’m hoping for another outcome entirely—that somehow this thing with Lake will become real and no one will ever know it was fake.
But there will be time for matters of the heart later.
I have a job to do, and it turns out it’s the job I love most. I head to the entrance of the arena, scanning for Miller.
I always like to chat with the players beforehand when they are going to be helping with a tour, even though Miller never needs much guidance.
Talking is his favorite hobby so he’s a dream on these things.
He’ll often regale VIP guests with tales of his minor league days or pranks the guys have played over the years.
On tours, he’s a bit of a fabulist, telling ghost stories about the spirits of made-up hockey legends that supposedly haunt this arena.
I texted him letting him know I’d meet him by the life-size posters in five minutes. I should arrive before him, but when I reach the posters a few seconds later, he’s already resting an elbow on the ledge of the escalator to the arena, chatting with none other than our other VIP, Anna Piper.
I don’t normally get awestruck around hockey players since I work with them, but she’s something else.
She won a gold medal and a championship before a knee injury took her down, and now she’s made herself indispensable as a play-by-play announcer for the Vancouver team.
She looks like a superhero, all tall and strong in a maroon pantsuit with high heels and a white silk blouse that makes her red hair—the shade is a striking rose gold—stand out even more.
She’s tough to look away from—foreboding and stunning.
I march right over to her, flash her a smile, and say, “I hope Miller isn’t already talking your ear off. I’m Remy Hatmaker. So thrilled to meet you.”
“Anna Piper,” she says, shaking my hand. “Thanks for letting me tag along. This is a treat.”
Miller turns to me with a friendly smile, then swings his gaze back to her. “And for the record, she likes it when I talk her ear off.”
Anna rolls her pretty green eyes. “Always so full of yourself.”
Always. That’s interesting.
“Oh, do you two know each other?” I ask, since I was getting a vibe.
“We went to college together,” Miller says. “We’ve been friends forever.”
“How did I not know this? Why didn’t you ever tell me you had cool friends, Miller?” I demand.
“Maybe I was keeping it a secret.”
Anna laughs, then says to me, “Miller likes to be mysterious sometimes.” She leans in closer and gives me a conspiratorial whisper, like we’ve been friends forever. “He thinks that’s part of his whole goalie mystique.”
“Hey now,” he says, inching closer to her. “I don’t have a goalie mystique—I am the goalie mystique!”
She pats his arm, laughing. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
It’s friendly, the way she treats him, but when Miller glances down at his arm like he’s treasuring the spot where she touched him, my romance instincts tingle. No, I’m not dying to set them up on a date. But I’ve got a feeling Miller has a crush on his longtime friend.
But that’s a thought I need to tuck aside for now. I spot the head of the charity striding into the arena with her VIP donors.
“All right. It’s showtime,” I say.