21. Chapter Twenty-One #2
"From the fight last night. The league does discipline calls apparently. They don't give an exact time. Just a window." I pull up my email, refresh it for the hundredth time. Nothing. "Could be any minute. Could be three hours from now. But they could decide he's suspended for tonight."
My heart sinks all over again, just thinking about it. This time, I know it's not the stupid pregnancy hormones.
Diane studies me for a long moment. Her reading glasses are perched on top of her head. Her gray-streaked bob makes her look like everyone's favorite grandmother, but there's steel underneath the sweetness.
"He's going to be fine," she says finally.
"You don't know that."
"I know he's a professional athlete who's been doing this for years. I know he's got good representation. And I know that boy would walk through fire before he'd let you down tonight."
My throat tightens. How on earth did she even know to say that?
"Diane—"
"Sweetie." She leans forward. "Whatever's happening between you two, it's okay to let yourself feel it. You don't have to have it all figured out right now."
I want to tell her. Want to say I'm pregnant and terrified and I want to tell myself it’s okay to fall for him but I can’t and I don't know how to do any of this.
But the words stick in my throat.
So, I just nod.
My phone pings with a new text, and this time it’s not the girls.
Melia Maras - Super PawMart
Looking forward to tonight! I'll be at the arena around 4:30. Can we move the pregame meet-and-greet up by ten minutes? Also hoping Kevin can do a quick IG live with Ranger before warmups. Want to maximize fan engagement!
My stomach drops.
Let me check with his team and confirm timing.
Quickly, I pivot to text Paige.
Melia wants to add a live IG and move the meet-and-greet earlier. Thoughts?
Three dots appear immediately.
Paige
I’m going to see if I can find out any updates on Kev/the call.
Let me handle Melia. You handle Ranger. Kevin handles hockey. #teamwork
I exhale slowly.
Right. Teamwork.
That's what friends who are the closest thing you have to family just do.
Barb pokes her head into the office. "Boss, Duke's new family wants to take a photo for their Christmas card. You want to come out?"
I follow her to the lobby where Karen and her husband are kneeling with Duke between them.
The dog's grinning — tongue out, tail wagging, absolutely thrilled with his new people.
I can't wait to do his home visit, get the home visit and hope everything checks out, so we can do our due diligence and get this good boy to a good home.
I snap a few photos on Karen's phone, watching the way her husband rests his palm on Duke’s head. A perfect fit.
"Thank you," Karen says, and her voice breaks. "For saving him. For giving us another chance to love a dog."
"That's why we're here," I manage.
These moments. This is why I do this job.
Even when everything else feels like it's running away from me like a dog off leash, I can still do this.
I'm in the middle of updating our website with new available dogs around lunchtime, when my phone buzzes.
Paige
Call happening shortly. Stand by.
I stare at the screen.
Refresh my messages.
Check my email.
Nothing.
The knot in my stomach tightens.
Diane's at the front desk talking to a volunteer about this weekend's adoption event. Barb's in the kennels doing afternoon enrichment. And I'm sitting in my office with my heart in my throat, waiting for news that could change all the dreams we’d dreamed for the launch of this partnership tonight.
If Kevin gets suspended, the brand deal debut is impossibly awkward, if not completely fucked — as Kevin himself so eloquently put it last night. Super PawMart will be pissed. Melia will probably want to reschedule. The donations we were counting on won't materialize.
And Kevin will miss a game. Against Dallas. The Stampede’s in-state rivals.
I force myself to keep working. Answer emails. Approve the first stage of Marcellus' adoption application for Rocket, send a note to Diane to schedule the home visit. Film a quick reel of Ranger stealing a plush toy from the donation bin.
He looks so pleased with himself that I can't help but laugh.
I caption it: Employee of the Month caught on camera.
In under a minute, it’s posted to his Instagram.
The comments start rolling in quickly. Heart emojis and laughing faces and people saying they can't wait to see him at the game tonight.
Except Ranger and I don't know if his dad will be there.
I refresh my texts.
Nothing.
11:52 a.m.
11:56 a.m.
Noon.
"Sarah." Barb's voice cuts through my spiral. "We need to double-check the QR codes before we load the van. Make sure the donations are routing correctly."
"Right. Yeah. On it."
I pull up the donation page on my laptop. Test the QR code. Watch the test payment process through. Everything's working perfectly.
Except my brain.
It's too distracted by Kevin, and I wish I could say that it was just about this phone call. But it's not.
It's too distracted by Kevin — I'm too distracted by Kevin — full stop.
On my way to grab flyers off the printer, my phone rings.
Sunshine’s name flashes on the screen. He doesn't usually call. My stomach sinks. It's probably bad news. That's why he's delivering it himself, instead of putting it in text.
I can feel tears start to prick at my lower eyelids. I will them to not overflow and mess up my mascara. Because then Diane or Barb or both will ask questions, and I just can't deal with anything else.
I walk back to my office, take a deep breath, and answer before the second ring.
"Just got off the call." He jumps straight to the point, and I can hear the relief in his voice already. "I'm in tonight."
The shock of good news is so unexpected that I have to sit down.
My legs just give out and I sink into my desk chair, one hand pressed to my mouth.
"No suspension?"
"No suspension. I was 'assessed supplemental discipline,' which is league-speak for the maximum fine they can give a guy in my situation. I’ll let my accountant handle that. But I'm playing. For you and for Ranger."
"Kevin—" My voice breaks.
"I know." There's something in his tone — I think it’s maybe a little bit of triumph. "I figured you were drafting Plan B."
I laugh. It comes out completely unconvincing and shaky. "Maybe. Yeah. Paige was handling it."
"Well, you both can stop that now. We're running Plan A."
I press my palm to my eyes, blinking hard. I'm crying in the middle of a dog rescue over a hockey player not getting suspended.
Because he showed up. Kept his word.
He’s the same Kevin he's always been. The same Kevin he promised me in bed last night that he would always be.
"Sarah?" His voice softens. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just..." I swipe at my cheeks. "You know. Hormones."
"Take your time. I've got video review in ten, but I wanted you to hear it from me first. I'm sure Paige will text you too."
"Thank you."
"I'll see you tonight. Section 118. Don't be late."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"It's a date." He hangs up and the words echo on the line.
A date.
Did he mean to say that? Or is it just the kind of thing people say about dentist appointments and tire rotations? And hockey games.
We've done a thousand things together: movies, Whataburger runs, hours at Zilker playing with Ranger. He's held my hand under the table at every Wing Wednesday since July, while we both pretended it didn't mean anything.
But we've never been on a date.
And now we're having a baby. Without ever going on an actual date.
I'm doing this completely backwards. Story of my life.
I press my hand against my stomach and let the adrenaline drain out of my system, wondering if Kevin realizes what he just said.
Diane appears in the doorway. Takes one look at my face and doesn't say a word. She just walks in, hands me a tissue and squeezes my shoulder.
"He's playing tonight," I manage.
"Of course he is." She squeezes once more, then releases. "Now pull it together. We've got a brand deal to execute and you've got a couple of hours to make Melia Maras think this was all part of the plan."
"No pressure."
"None at all, sweetie."