Chapter 13 #2
The season starts up in a few weeks, but there are people around getting everything ready.
There were a handful of my teenage years and my early twenties spent coming here and cheering on the Knights.
When Bennett sold it, I would still come watch a game or two, but it not only didn’t feel right, it also wasn’t the same.
It felt like I was betraying my family, betraying Grayson for supporting a team he would have given his all to play for.
Which is probably why I wanted to buy that plot of land in Vegas for him so bad. I wanted to make up for my betrayal. It’s a good thing the deal never went through. Well, it didn’t go through for me. Some other shmuck ended up buying it for more than it was worth.
A year after my trip to Vegas, Grayson told all of us he was thinking about buying the Knights.
It took time, but eventually, my brother was able to buy the team our family once owned without any help.
Now, a year and a half later, that very team has a Stanley Cup under its belt and it’s aiming to add another.
They were able to win the season before last and came up short this past May, but this new season might be it.
Seeing how everything has come together gives me that proud brother feeling.
After making sure I have my phone with me, I make my way into the arena and up to the corporate offices. In the last year and a half, I’ve spent a lot of time visiting my brother, so nobody stops me when I walk in and head straight to Grayson’s office.
When I get close to his door, his assistant, a kid who looks fresh out of college, throws a nod my way. “He’s in a meeting right now. He should be done in a few.”
I throw a nod back. “Thanks, man,” I say, making myself comfortable in one of the arm chairs lining the wall just outside Grayson’s door.
I’m in the middle of looking at properties in Sinaloa, something I’ve been doing a lot lately, when the door to my brother’s office opens.
My eyes look up on their own accord, and when I see who is walking out, I’m a bit surprised. I have no idea who I expected to be meeting with Grayson, but I sure as fuck didn’t expect the guy I once considered my best friend.
Ethan Bettencourt. What the fuck is he doing here? Last I heard, he was playing in Colorado, and I only know that because his mother told me so at the Lane Enterprises Christmas dinner.
By the look on his face, he is just as surprised by my presence as I am about his. My one-time friend gives me a sheepish look, like he is almost ashamed of running into me.
“Eli.” Ethan nods before walking away. A few seconds later, another guy in a suit, who I’m assuming is Ethan’s agent, walks out of the office.
Oh, what the actual fuck?
Ethan can only be here for one reason, and that is to possibly play for the Knights.
Once the guy in the suit is out of sight, I pocket my phone and head into my brother’s office.
As soon as he sees me from where he’s sitting at his desk, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Before you say anything, remember that I don’t ask you about your business decisions, so you can’t ask me about mine.”
I take a seat in one of the chairs in front of him. “Not a single word was going to come out of my mouth.”
“Your face said otherwise.” He looks at me with narrowed eyes.
Now I’m the one sighing. “Fine. I was going to say something, but it was nothing about your business decisions. You need to sign a new defenseman, so go right ahead. You need to get rid of Bradford anyway. If circumstances were different, I would say sign Bettencourt right this second, but given that the circumstances are what they are, as your brother, I would think about it. If you sign him, there is a chance your pretty little ass is going to get chewed into pieces and discarded in the desert.”
Grayson lets out what sounds like a painful groan while his face contorts in pain. “We sign him tomorrow. He met with my general manager and Coach Anderson before talking to me.”
“Then you better start picking your favorite portion of the Sahara. I’m partial to the Moroccan side, but that’s just me.”
He bows his head and cradles it in his hands. “You think if I buy her that Porsche she’s been eyeing, she will forgive me?”
I let out a snort, which makes him almost weep.
Apparently, young Grayson here doesn’t know our sister all that well, especially when it comes to the hatred she carries for Ethan Bettencourt, the bastard who shattered her heart nearly nine years ago.
But how Samantha feels about this shouldn’t be something Grayson should be thinking about.
He should be thinking about his team and doing anything he can to get them closer to a second cup.
If that includes Ethan, so be it. I don’t like it either, but I’d rather see the Knights win again than deal with my anger issues toward my former best friend.
“Just talk to her before the press release goes out. She will be angry, no doubt about that, but she’ll come around. Eventually. I got to ask, though, who approached who?”
From what I know, Grayson hates Ethan just as much as I do and vowed to never willingly approach him.
“He came to me. Apparently, Colorado isn’t all that great. As much as I wanted to tell the bastard to fuck off, I need to get rid of Bradford, and the whole hometown boy angle brings in good money.”
I nod. “Do what you gotta do, brother. Is that why you called me here?”
Grayson seems to relax at my question. “No, Bettencourt being here was just a happy coincidence. I called because I finally scheduled my knee surgery and need to see if I can stay at your place for a few weeks.”
The surgery is no surprise to me. In the last few years, Grayson has been a lot more open about the injury that cut his hockey career short. He’s been embracing it rather than letting it continue to bring him down. The surprising part is that he wants to stay with me.
I look at my brother with narrowed eyes. “Why?”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Maybe because my place doesn’t have an elevator and yours does? And before you suggest the manor, there is also no elevator there, so I won’t be able to leave my room. Plus, I’d rather not be subjected to Bennett and Ella fucking everywhere.”
The images that plague my mind are disturbing.
“Fine. But at the very least, have Henry stay there when I’m not home so you don’t fall.”
He throws me a nod, and I’m about to suggest we go get food when my phone ringing stops me. I pull it out of my pocket and check the caller ID. As soon as I see the name, I’m wary.
“It’s Drake.” As soon as I say our little brother’s name, Grayson gets the same look on his face I’m sure is on mine—both wonder and hope he didn’t do anything stupid.
I answer the phone and put it on speaker. “You better not be calling me from a federal prison.”
“Excuse you. I don’t do any shady shit that would land be face-to-face with the feds.”
Both Grayson and I snort. “Whatever. I’m with Gray and you’re on speaker. What’s up?”
A laugh escapes my youngest brother. “I don’t know if you want Gray to hear this.”
I roll my eyes. “Just say why you called.”
“Fine, but you’re the one who’s going to have some explaining to do. Remember your trip to Vegas about three years ago?”
The memory of Aria and the way her body felt in my hands instantly fills my mind.
“I do,” I say, trying to keep the roughness the memory caused out of my voice.
“Do you remember the woman you had me look into when you left?”
“There was a woman?” Grayson lets out, his lips forming a full grin.
I flip him off and give Drake my full attention. “Get to the point,” I growl, rethinking my whole putting him on speaker thing.
Drake just laughs. “I know you told me to stop keeping tabs on her a while ago, but I wanted to let you know she pinged in Chicago. Looks like she has been here for close to two weeks. I figured since she turned you into a bit of a stalker, I would let you know.”
Aria is in Chicago.
Aria is in fucking Chicago.
I should be pissed at my brother for keeping tabs on her when I told him to stop, but I can’t seem to bring the anger to the surface. It was only a few weeks ago that I was going to ask him to find her for me again, and here she is, front and center.
Something stirs in me at knowing she is close.
So many times, I planned trips to Austin just so I could maybe catch of glimpse of her. So many times, I planned meetings with Leo at his house in the hopes she would be visiting his wife, since they were best friends.
I did see her once or twice, but I never made my presence known. I stopped keeping tabs on her after two or three months because it no longer felt right watching her the way I was.
But now, she’s in Chicago, and I have so many questions.
I’m so damn lost in my head with thoughts about Aria that I miss the fact that Grayson and Drake are talking to each other, my youngest brother telling my other one all the details he knows about the woman I met in Vegas—including how I had him send me all personal information.
Full name. Address. Birthday. Bank information so if I ever wanted to secretly spoil her, I could.
The last part, I never did, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it.
I narrow my eyes at Grayson, and he throws me a shit eating grin.
“If you didn’t have a knee injury, and if Drake wasn’t in New York, I would be kicking both of your asses right now.”
Gray rolls his eyes. “I can take you, busted knee or not.”
Now I’m the one rolling his eyes. I don’t have time for this shit. “Drake, send me the information,” I say into the phone before hanging up on him.
I don’t like how my brother’s eyebrows raise when I look back up at him. “And what are you going to do with said information?”
“Don’t worry about it. You should be worried about telling your sister you’re about to pay her ex millions to play for your team.”
That earns me a middle finger, but I brush it off and let my mind go to a place it hasn’t visited in years.
If Aria is in Chicago, then maybe that one night can be something we can experience again.
That is, if she’s not seeing someone and they are the reason for her move.
I guess it’s time to find out.