5. June
Ihave no idea how long I’ve been hiding in the bathroom when someone calls my name. “June Summers? Are you here?”
My spine goes rigid, and I don’t dare breathe. Who’s looking for me? Did Bill convince a stranger to enter the women’s restroom to find me? I reject the idea immediately. That’s not his MO.
“In case you’re here, my name is Melissa Sanders. I work for the Titans.”
What? Why would the Titans send someone after me? Are they mad that I screwed up their programming with my epic fail?
I press a hand against my forehead, feeling dizzy. I’m glad I’m sitting on the toilet. “I’ll be out in a moment.”
I’d love to keep hiding in the bathroom stall, but my curiosity is wins out. I grab a wad of toilet paper to dry off my wet cheeks, then walk out.
Melissa Sanders is a stunning woman—the kind who draws admiration and envy in equal measure. She’s standing in front of the bathroom stall I was occupying, wearing a snug pencil skirt that’s long enough to be professional and a white button-down blouse. She looks polished, powerful, and sexy—the opposite of me. Her tanned skin is flawless, and her long dark-brown hair shines like silk. If I weren’t straight, I might develop a crush on her.
“What can I do for you?” I ask.
“The right question is what can I do for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We’re very sorry about what happened at the arena, and we’d like to make it up to you.”
My brows furrow. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but three of our star players saw the whole thing on TV, and they’d like to invite you to the team party tonight.”
My face heats as embarrassment returns to the surface. My fiasco was so terrible that now I have three pro hockey players feeling sorry for me. “That’s extremely kind of them, but I’m not sure I want to show my face in public for the next decade.”
Melissa tilts her head and arches a brow. “Are you sure? There will be food, and it’s an open bar with top-shelf liquor. Besides, I take it your ex is a Titans fan?”
“Yeah… huge fan. He even bought me this T-shirt tonight and made me wear it because my dress had the Zodiacs’ colors.”
Melissa’s lips become a flat line, and her turquoise-blue eyes shine with intensity. “What better way to get even than by hanging out with his idols?”
I nibble on my lower lip, pondering her logic. She has a point. Bill would eat his heart out if he found out I met his favorite players. And the prospect of free booze is enticing. I’m not usually one to turn to alcohol as a coping mechanism, but I’d do anything to forget the pain of his and Danika’s betrayal. God, the thought of them together makes me sick.
“What do you say, June? I promise you’ll have fun, and I’ll be with you the whole time, if that helps.”
“Really? You’re going to be my wingwoman?”
She laughs. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”
Melissa sounds sincere, and I used to be a good judge of character. I’m not as confident in my skills anymore—I should have seen Bill and Danika’s duplicity. But…
“Okay. What time is the party?”
“Right after the game, at the Four Diamonds Hotel downtown. You’re welcome to watch the rest with me from the VIP box.”
I glance at my wrinkled and stained dress. “I’m not dressed to attend a fancy party. I should go home and change.”
The moment I say those words, my stomach twists savagely. Home. The apartment I share with Bill won’t be my home for much longer. I can’t afford to pay the rent on my own. My heart takes off at breakneck speed, and I stand on the precipice of a panic attack.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Not really. I just realized I have to move out.” I open the faucet and splash cold water on my face.
“That’s tomorrow’s problem. I can get you a different dress, if you’re open to it.”
I turn to her. “What do you mean? Borrow a dress from you?”
“Not exactly. I’ll call my personal shopper. She’ll bring several options for you to pick from. She can probably be here within the hour.”
Wow. Personal shopper. Melissa must be a big deal. I can’t believe she’s going out of her way, trying to make me feel better. Then again, if the invitation came from the players themselves...
My first instinct is to say no, but I can’t shut myself off from opportunities just because I’m scared of making a fool of myself. After being turned down on the Jumbotron, I don’t think I can sink any lower. “All right. Let’s do it.”
Melissa smiles from ear to ear. “Excellent! I’ll call my personal shopper right away. She’ll have questions for you.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Preference in style, colors, size, etc.”
“Oh, cool.”
A group of loud ladies enter the restroom, and one recognizes me. “Oh, you’re the Jumbotron girl! I’m so sorry, dear.”
My face gets hot again, and I don’t know what to say. I’m frozen, drowning in my shame.
Melissa links her arm with mine. “Let’s get back to our seats.”
I let her steer me out of the restroom, grateful for her assistance. I wonder if they have alcohol in the VIP box. I could definitely use a shot of tequila right about now.