Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Summer
Ryder Calloway was a very handsome man. Close to forty, he was young to be a general manager, but the Chicago Rebels had a history of taking chances on newer talent both on and off the ice.
He had been in this role for three years, and the most recent season saw the Rebels get to the Cup finals.
He must have been doing something right.
Today, he sat behind a large oak desk, the perfect picture of the franchise executive. I had known him in a professional capacity as his assistant for the last two years, and the day I quit my job was sadder than the day I jilted my fiancé.
At this point, the red flags were practically slapping me in the face.
“I’m glad you’re safe, Summer. You had us worried.”
“I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”
He waved it off. “You don’t owe me or anyone here an explanation. So how are you? Really.”
“I’m … figuring stuff out. Dash and I still need to talk properly, but until that happens, I’d like to get my life back on an even keel. Getting a job is number one on the list.”
He nodded, tapped the desk. “Well, as you know, we’ve filled your position.”
“Right. I was hoping to be considered for an internship, maybe in scouting. For the last year, I’ve been creating asset packages and reports of franchise prospects—”
“You have? I know you’ve done some of the slide decks for the talent meetings, and your work has always been excellent. Which reports are we talking about?”
“This was on my own time. I gave them to Scott Kincaid. Creating a portfolio, if you will.”
He frowned. “Why didn’t you talk to me about them?”
“I mentioned the idea to you once and you didn’t seem all that interested. One day I was talking to Scott, and he said he’d love to see what I had to offer.”
He took a moment. “I wish you’d come to me, Summer. I know you said you had, but maybe you caught me on a bad day because I don’t recall.”
“I didn’t want to nag you about it. Scott was kind enough to offer to read them.”
He didn’t look pleased. I should have run it by him, at the very least clued him in that I was providing this data for Scott. Now it looked like I’d gone behind his back.
“Be that as it may, Summer, I’m not sure we can offer you a position here, internship or otherwise.”
My heart sank. “Because of Dash?”
“I know I said I didn’t foresee a conflict of interest, but obviously I was wrong there.” As if these particular circumstances could have ever been predicted. “It would be one thing if you hadn’t quit your job, but you did and employing you again wouldn’t be fair to Carter.”
I should have known I’d be perceived as the villain here.
“But …” he continued.
My heart leaped.
“I could enquire at another franchise, assuming you were willing to move to a different city.” The implication was that it would be better all-around if I did. Still, this was kind of him. He didn’t need to do a thing.
“Thanks, Ryder. I would really appreciate that.”
I was used to starting over. If that’s what I had to do, then I could do it again.
Hatch
So there’s this old tune called “Jesse’s Girl” about a guy who has it bad for his friend’s woman. Carter might not be a friend, but in all other respects, I was living this fucking song.
Since I’d gotten to know Summer better—in all the ways—the next step should have been obvious.
Make her mine.
I wanted nothing more. I wanted to be her knight, to shelter her from the storm, away from the rest of the world. Away from family and friends and the city we both lived in.
Away from Carter.
Only now we were back in the cauldron. I couldn’t make a play for Summer because (a) she had told me she wasn’t interested and (b) even if she was, Carter would be sore about it.
Summer was right. No one would believe it hadn’t been planned, that we hadn’t been hooking up before the wedding that never was.
But that didn’t mean it could never happen. I would merely have to bide my time.
Carter was the last person I wanted to see, but my father had invited him to Rebels Youth Hockey Camp. This’ll be good for him, Dad had said. Get his mind off stuff.
I was of the opinion that staying in St. Bart’s and fucking anything that moved would have helped the guy more.
Carter was already sitting in the locker room alone, taping his stick, when I arrived ahead of camp. He looked tanned, rested, and remarkably untroubled.
“Hey, how are things?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry, dumb question.”
He shook his head. “Nah, you’re alright. Your dad roped you into this, too?”
I took a seat on the bench beside him and started untying my sneakers. “I’ve done it for three years now. It’s a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, and good PR for me, which never hurts. I’m looking forward to whipping the brats into shape.”
Jesus, this guy. “The kids are actually great.” I moved on. “How was St. Bart’s?”
“Amazing. We have a house there, so it’s the perfect place to get away from it all. Though there were helicopters trying to get photos. My mom was not pleased. She blames Summer.”
“And you don’t?”
“For helicopter paps? Nah. They’ve been following me around for years. I can’t buy a condom without someone reporting about it.”
I was having a hard time figuring out what Summer ever saw in this guy. Maybe he had presented a different front to her, like a Jekyll and Hyde deal. She saw Dr. Dash and I saw Mr. Carter.
“You heard from Summer?”
“One call with her sobbing about how sorry she was. I told her she would need to wait until I’m ready. Best to let her stew. Figure out how bad things are without me. Then”—he snapped his fingers—“I’ll decide if I should bring her back in.”
I stared at him, barely able to hide my incredulity. “You mean, you’d get back together with her?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed at her.
But she’s always been indecisive. Took her two tries to get her to say yes.
” Summer had said three, but I didn’t correct him because I wasn’t supposed to know that.
“And she wanted to keep her job, but I convinced her to cave there, too. Now she’s unemployed and homeless.
Once she realizes how cold the streets are, she’ll come around. ”
I had come in here, thinking that Carter deserved my sympathy. I was now convinced he deserved jack shit.
There was a reason we weren’t that close: he made everything about him.
Maybe that was the result of growing up the scion of a billionaire family.
Sure, my family was wealthy, but we weren’t allowed to coast or rely on that wealth.
Hell, Dad made me get a part-time job at Saugatuck Yacht Club every summer from the age of fifteen.
Said it would teach me the value of hard work.
Of course, Carter had worked hard to make it in the NHL.
No one got to this level without putting in the effort, but he had always been the kind of player who skated by on his natural talent.
I was gifted but not as much as some of the other guys.
Not as much as my dad, my uncle Jason, or even my brother Conor who was going to outdo us all in the legend stakes. The kid was phenom with a capital P.
No, I worked my ass off every day and made sure no one doubted my worthiness to be on a pro-hockey team. Carter didn’t see his hockey career in the same light. This was a side hustle for him rather than the main event—the main event being Dash Carter the Third.
“But why would you want her back after what she did?”
“Not sure I do. And frankly I could get anyone, y’know? But she always played hard to get, even when we were dating. Like she didn’t think I was good enough for her. Women don’t usually put up that kind of resistance with me. It’s kind of hot.”
The guy was jilted by his bride on his wedding day, and it made him want her … more? Summer had told me they’d broken up a few times. Maybe this was just part of their drama cycle, taken to the next level.
Too stunned to respond, I pulled off my T-shirt and started dressing for camp. Because this was the equivalent of light practice, I forewent the full padding and kept it to warm-up gear. I was lacing up my skates when Conor walked in.
He approached Carter with his fist already closed, going for the bump. “Carter! I cannot believe you are showing your face in this town.”
That was my brother, the closest we had to a Theo Kershaw clone. Over the years my dad had become more tactful, (slightly) less embarrassing, and more likely to think before he spoke.
Enter Conor.
The guy had picked up the mantle of my dad’s lack of filter. But because he was such a good-natured bro about it, a shocked Carter just held up his fist and accepted the bump.
“I’m guessing you found some island hottie to cheer you up.”
Carter smirked, instantly mollified. “You know it.”
“Sounds like Summer landed on her feet, too.”
“What? You mean, she’s with someone?”
My brother shrugged and … side-eyed me. What the—?
“No idea,” he said to Carter. “I meant that she found a place to live. She’s staying with Addy and Rosie. Is it true you dumped her stuff on the street? That’s cold, man!”
That was cold. Also, the first I was hearing about it. My fist clenched at my side.
Carter gave a negligent shrug. “Girl’s gotta learn.”
Conor caught my eye, winked, and placed his palm over his heart. “Well, miracle of miracles. The Lord saw right to save that sinner’s possessions and make it so she could find them again.”
Bafflement knitted Carter’s brow. “The Lord saw what now?”
“Guess her stuff didn’t get thrown out after all. Addy sent Nyquist over to pick it up because he’s whipped. Or he’s a sucker for a damsel in distress.” Conor looked pointedly at me then back to Carter. “Jesus, dude, do you want her walking the streets naked? Huh, maybe ya do.”
Carter had no response to that, and now my dad had come in, so the conversation was at an end. As we headed out to the rink to start the camp, I pulled Conor back.
“How come you know so much about this Summer situation?”
“I make it my business to keep up with the R-drama. Knowledge is power, bro.”
I delivered my best slant-eyed look of death.
He chuckled. “It was so nice to see Summer at the Sunny Side Up. Glad she’s getting back on her feet.”
“I suppose.”
“And who knew she was a Motors fan? Just like Aurora.” Punctuated by the perfect Conor smirk. Off he went, leaving me gaping like a trout.