Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lauren
“Hey, Frisco, how’s it hangin’?”
Sometimes I couldn’t believe how ancient I sounded. But when you were dealing with college aged kids, it was hard to come off as anything but an oldster who didn’t understand the meaning of “cheugy.” (Still didn’t.)
“Not so good. My boo’s got me cooked.”
Galen Frisk was one of my favorite clients, about to start his maiden season with the New York Empires this fall. But boy did he come with a shit-ton of personal issues. If he wasn’t brawling with idiots in bars, he was getting an earful from whichever girl had latched onto him.
“I’m listening.”
After seven excruciating minutes about a woman whose personality appeared to be probiotic yogurt and Dubai influencer gigs, I had to put a stop to it.
“So what did I tell you about entering the big leagues and what that might bring?”
“I need to figure out who my friends are.”
“And that includes?”
“Women.”
“A-plus! I know it can be hard to decide who’s in it for you versus your big, fat signing bonus, but I’m getting the impression that Brittany—”
“Bretony. With two E’s on the end.”
Jesus. “Breton-ee is looking for a meal ticket. You can’t be flying to Dubai on your off days during the season, Frisco.”
“What about putting her in a private jet to come here for games?”
“Well, you could. But it sounds like she’s in it for the clout and how good those private jet pics would look on her ’gram. That’s a surefire way of sending your money into a black hole instead of investing it where it matters. Did you talk to that advisor I recommended?”
“I was going to, but then I got a call from Thad.”
My antennae zinged. “My Thad?”
“Yeah, he had this great opportunity with a hockey-themed crypto fund. It’s called PUCK with a dollar sign where the C should be. How cool is that?”
My insides flipped. I felt a little nauseous, or maybe it was the peach yogurt I had for lunch. In fact, my stomach had been arguing with me all day, and now it felt like I’d gone ten rounds with it. I could feel sweat beading along my hairline.
“Yeah, cool. So how come you didn’t tell me about this?”
“It’s something you guys are doing together, yeah?”
“Actually, no. Thad’s business and mine don’t mix. How much did you invest?”
His maximum entry-level contract was just under a million, and the rookie bonus was capped at ten percent of that, so hopefully …
“A hundred K. That’s alright, isn’t it?”
Holy fuck. “Oh yeah, it’s fine. But I really need you to call Dylan Bankowski. He’s the financial advisor I recced and he’s a former player with the Rebels. Banks knows his stuff. Don’t spend or invest another dime until you’ve talked to him, okay?”
“Sure.” He paused. “But everything’s cool, yeah?”
“Of course!” My cheer sounded supremely fake, but this kid wouldn’t pick up on it.
I hoped.
I immediately reached out to Thad.
Me
Dinner tonight?
An hour later, he still hadn’t responded when Esme popped her head around the door. “I’ve set up the call with Arkady Volkov for tomorrow at two p.m. Oh, what’s wrong?”
My stomach gurgled, and not in an “I’m hungry” way. More like a “what did you do to me?” way.
“I woke up this morning with an upset stomach. No big—” I grabbed the wastebasket and hurled right into it. Shit. Where did that come from?
Esme squinted at me but kept her distance.
“You don’t look so hot. Any chance you’re—oh my god, are you pregnant?”
“No, Esme, I am not pregnant.” It had been a while, maybe a month, since I had sex with Thad, and I’d had my period since then. I was pretty sure that was how it worked. “I’m going to go home and work from there.”
“Okay, let me know if you need anything. I can send one of Kennedy’s minions over with chicken soup.”
I smiled thinly and gestured to the wastebasket. “Let me clean this up first.”
“I can take care of it. You go home and remember to hydrate.”
I hated being sick, but hopefully I could sleep it off and be right as rain tomorrow. Just as I got in my car, I got a text from Thad.
How about tomorrow? I have a client meeting tonight.
Me
I’m not feeling so good anyway. Maybe stomach flu?
Thad
Oh no. Hope you feel better soon!
The next day I felt worse. Possibly food poisoning, but I had barely eaten anything yesterday except for some fruit and yogurt. Or maybe I’d been on the wrong end of a sneeze from someone diseased.
I needed to sleep, but first, I set an alarm for the call to Volkov this afternoon. I couldn’t miss it, though it might be better to do audio only, especially if I looked anywhere near as bad as I felt. I also sent a text to Hatch, telling him I had to bail on the Rebels hockey camp.
Getting up to use the bathroom, I almost fell over from the spinning sensation. Not good. Not even fun. Like I was drunk but without the benefits of being accidentally married.
Oops. I did not just think that. Definitely not of sound mind or body.
I finally managed to do my business, but the thought of heading to the kitchen for water seemed insurmountable. I put my mouth under the bathroom tap, raccoon-style, then seconds later, threw up.
Okay, sleep. That was what I needed, just a few hours before my call to Volkov. I put one foot in front of the other, made it to the bed, and collapsed like a starfish on top of the covers.
Someone was here.
Thad? It couldn’t be. I had never given him a key, and even if he had one, he wouldn’t dare. He hated sickness and couldn’t bear to be around me the last time I had the flu.
“Hello?”
“It is okay, my kotyonok.” A deep voice soothed. Not Jason, who did have my key. Not Gunnar or my dad. I knew he wasn’t around anymore, but he used to be when I needed him. Especially after Mom died. I missed him, though I shouldn’t, not after what he had done.
More words, low and comforting. Him. How was he here? It must be a dream.
“Can’t get rid of you.” It didn’t sound like me. That voice was rusty, like it came from a witch. “Cast a spell and here you are.”
“I will always come for you.”
I snorted. It felt snotty. Gross. The room was dark, but enough light shone through the doorway to cast a glow over him. Angelic, beautiful, perfect.
“Stupid.”
“What is?”
I struggled to sit up. I was under the covers, though I didn’t remember how I got there. “You. Stupid husband. Why do you look so good?”
“She’s delirious.” Another male voice that sounded like Jason. Thank God, because I couldn’t be alone with that other guy. Too dangerous.
Something was in my mouth, then it wasn’t.
“102.2. Bad but not terrible.”
Somebody mentioned a doctor and I raised a hand dramatically. “No doctors! I’m fine. I need to …” I couldn’t recall what I needed to do. Something related to Alexei.
“Why are you here?”
Jason moved closer. “Nazarov said you missed an important client call and Esme’s been trying to get ahold of you.”
“Volkov!” I shot up. “I have to talk to him.”
“Later, Lauren.” Strong, warm hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me down gently. The pillow was cool, when it wasn’t before. Magic. “He will be available when you are better.”
“No, it’ll be too late. Get my phone.” I palmed the side table, like a child petting a dog too vigorously. “Where is it?”
“I have it,” my stupid husband said, but he didn’t hand it over. Withholding jerk. Always keeping the good stuff to himself, like that manly cedar scent and forbidden kisses. “But you can’t talk to him now. He’s on a plane. We’ll figure it out later.”
“You—you should leave. You’ll get sick.” I tried to focus on the tall figure standing at the door. “Jason, tell him to go.”
“Who should we call, Lo?” My friend sounded worried.
“No one. I’ll be fine.”
The weight lifted from the bed. Don’t go! Please stay!
A murmured conversation ensued, then the door closed, leaving me in darkness.
“Are you still here?” I whispered into the dark.
“Yes, Silver Eyes. Go to sleep and rest.”