Chapter 15
Captain’s Hall, Freedom
Eden
It’s Monday morning, and I’m sitting at the desk in the study in Captain’s hall. The desk is heavy, rich mahogany. I run my hand over its smooth surface. It looks like the fancy type of thing that a CEO would own.
Or D’Angelo.
It’s his gift for me officially starting as his PA today.
None of my bosses at the cleaning firms bought me a gift.
D’Angelo is currently my number one boss, especially as he also bought me my own computer, iPad, and phone, and is allowing me to order as much stationary as I like.
I’m planning on ordering moleskin notepads and a professional color-coded document organizer, which I dreamed about owning in college.
Of course, my favorite thing about this desk is that I asked for it to be pushed up against the window next to Robyn’s desk.
Hers is pine and cluttered with papers, empty wine glasses, and at least six different phones, as well as a hands free set, which is looped over her ear. She’s been excitedly talking into it for the last hour to different journalists.
Yet she appears to understand her own chaos.
I think.
She’s good at her job.
The study’s walls are painted deep green, and the floors are oak. A circular light that looks like a flower blossoms from the ceiling, and a matching light sprouts next to the desk.
A lime couch rests against the back wall, beneath photographs of the hockey team with D’Angelo at the center and Shay smiling next to him.
Underneath, are the staff, including Robyn, Cody, and me.
On the wall closest to the desks are ranks of filing cabinets, a black board that I’ve divided into D’Angelo’s schedule for the next week, and a bulletin board.
Robyn’s currently using the bulletin board for pinned to-do lists, cut out magazine and newspaper articles, as well as inspirational quotes.
D’Angelo looked like he was sucking a lemon, when he saw this morning’s quote: Sing like no one is listening. Love like you’ve never been hurt. Dance like nobody is watching.
D’Angelo arched his brow. “Shay definitely does that.”
“Hey,” Shay laughingly protested.
“And I’ll always be watching when you dance.”
Robyn smirked. “Voyeur…or stalker.”
Can you love like you’ve never been hurt?
Can any of my new family?
Yesterday, watching Shay’s dream of learning the piano come true, D’Angelo’s patience with him, then how he could be spanked and used but not hurt…I’m coming to believe that it’s possible.
Touch doesn’t have to mean pain.
I glance out of the window at the rolling lawns and trees, which lead to the haze of Captain Forest beyond.
I furrow my brow, as my temples throb. My eyes feel tired. I squint against the light.
Would Robyn mind if I closed the drapes?
I pick up my mug of Earl Grey, which has pride of place on my desk. I take a sip, sighing in satisfaction.
Hot and strong. Just as it should be.
I warm my hands around the mug because they’re cold. They have been since I was injured.
I can’t seem to keep my hands or feet warm at the moment. I also can’t seem to shake this concussion that’s making me feel like shit.
I don’t let it show on my face.
I have work to do. I can handle it.
I run my finger over the red, golden, and black lines of the phoenix with a dramatic tail and wings, which is printed onto the white mug.
It’s my tattoo design.
It fucking drove the breath from me, when Robyn and Shay presented me with it this morning.
They’d had it printed as a good luck gift for my first morning.
Have I ever received so many presents that were just for me before?
I share a birthday with Shay. We always got presents together.
Yet this mug and the desk are only for me because I’m starting a new role.
It makes me even more determined to do my best.
I place down my tea and flick open the file in front of me, running my finger down the timings for the games this week.
The first one is on Tuesday against the Dallas Stars.
Since breakfast, I’ve been looking through D’Angelo’s schedule, memorizing it and trying to figure out ways to make it more efficient for him.
He’s going to be working hard this season.
It’ll be tough to hold him together, but I will because his team needs him.
The Bay Rebels must win their opening games to keep the board and senior management on side.
Robyn ends her call, then she brushes her hand against mine. “Isn’t it awesome that we can work together like this?”
“As long as you don’t steal my stationary.”
She laughs. “I make no promises. Plus, your brother has already been stealing your post-it notes. He plans to use them to torment D’Angelo. Has he always been a prankster?”
I shake my head. “Shay didn’t have anyone in his life who gave him such fun reactions. He didn’t have a best friend either.”
Robyn taps her phone. “I’m not being too noisy, right? Can you still concentrate.”
I nod. “I’m used to Shay.”
I don’t tell her how much my head is hurting. It’s been getting worse all morning, a sharp migraine.
It’s less than an hour before we’ll break for lunch. I’m not ruining my first day, when the others went to such an effort to make it special for me.
They bought me my phoenix tattoo mug.
“I thought that you’d short-circuited D’Angelo this morning.” Robyn hunts through her papers like she actually has a system. “You know the way that you stopped him at the door to pass him Gatorade, his rearranged daily schedule, and even healthy, made from scratch lunches for Shay and him. You’re making life hard on yourself to be that good on your first day. You should have started out kind of incompetent and then you had somewhere to go. At this rate, you’ll need to be running for President by the end of the year.”
“I can’t; I’m English,” I deadpan.
“My mistake.” Robyn traces a finger down my cheek, before turning my head and stealing a quick kiss. “I like this. I’ve spent too much time feeling alone. When I studied for my PhD, it felt so theoretical. It was hard to make friends, when Wilder didn’t like me seeing people who weren’t part of his social group, which meant his friends, the hockey team.”
“I’ve always been alone apart from Shay. This feels like I’m in the college library, but instead of working by myself, I’m finally like the other people who I watched.”
Robyn’s brow furrows. She doesn’t understand. How could she?
It’s hard to explain. The words won’t arrange themselves.
“The students. Everybody else. Others.” I have one more go. “Real people.”
“You are real.” Robyn clasps my hand. Maybe I am. When she touches me like this, I feel that I could be. “And I’m sitting with you now. I wish that I could have been your friend back then. I would have been.”
She wouldn’t.
I don’t tell her that.
“Jude says that once I’m settled in, he’ll tell me about the admin role in his charity as well,” I say.
Robyn’s expression brightens. “You’ll be great at that. The kids there will love you. Anything that I can help you with, just ask. Hey, do you want to see your photos on the pages that I created?”
I sit forward to look at the computer screen that she turns to face me.
“This is Shay’s page,” she tells me, proudly. “Look, there’s the photo that you took in the kitchen. It has the most views, and I’m not surprised. Not only does he look fucking gorgeous, but you’ve captured the real Shay and not the volatile hot tempered player who people see on the ice.”
I study the page.
It’s filled with information on Shay’s English background, showing him as playful, relaxed, and fun.
There’s an interactive quiz and a video of the arena.
“It’s impressive.” I mean it.
Robyn smiles, before clicking through onto another page. “It links to new merchandise.”
I swallow, as pain twinges through my shoulder.
Robyn looks concerned. I wasn’t able to hide the pain well enough.
“Is it your shoulder or your ribs?” She asks. “Can I get you more pain meds?”
She looks ready to leap out of her seat.
I shake my head, but that only makes the pain lance through my temples worse.
I’m dizzy.
“I’m fine.” My vision is blurry. I struggle to focus through the involuntary tears at the screen. “D’Angelo’s page looks different.”
Robyn tears her concerned gaze away from me after a long moment. “It suits his commanding leader of the team feel versus Shay as a rising star. So, suits and cold but elegant stances with arctic blues and statistics. But I was planning on…”
I don’t hear what she’s planning.
Her words fade, blur, bleed into each other.
My ears are ringing.
The pain swells into agony.
I hunch my shoulders, gritting my teeth.
I can bear this.
Take it.
It’s only pain.
Dee, dee, don’t close your eyes. What if you don’t wake up? What if you leave me alone with the monsters?
My eyes scrunch shut. I can’t help it.
I’m sorry, Shay. I’m sorry…
My mind’s muddled.
Where am I? What’s happening?
Without meaning to, I tip forward against the wave of exhaustion. I grimace, as my arm in its sling is caught against the front of the desk.
I hear a panicked cry.
Am I alone with the monsters?
Then everything turns black.