Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ALEKSANDR
“You need to find something, some concrete reason, that Tony and CeCe aren’t fit to be Stella’s guardians,” Tom says. His voice is ominous as he slides a copy of their newest petition to get custody of Stella into his gym bag.
I glance past him and take in the players on the squash court beyond the glass wall.
“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” I say quietly, even though there is no one else waiting for a court.
“All I know is that Tony creeps me out and CeCe is a relentless social climber. My brother and sister-in-law were insistent they didn’t want them to be Stella’s guardian. Why isn’t that enough?”
“I don’t know. What do they stand to gain by getting guardianship of her?”
“Hell if I know,” I sigh. “It can’t be Niko’s money, unless Tony’s not actually a billionaire and they’re strapped for cash. I guess it’s possible. Maybe that whole shipping company is a big sham that’s about to collapse?”
“If that’s the case,” Tom says, “he’s doing a good job hiding it.
Anyway, you’ve already been granted guardianship, but they aren’t going to stop with these petitions unless you give the court a reason that the two of them aren’t fit.
On paper, they look pretty damn good. Married and rich as fuck. Blood relations.”
“You kind of just described me, you know?”
Tom rolls his eyes, then turns his attention to the players on the court who are currently shaking hands after wrapping up their game.
“The judge has no idea you’re married, since you didn’t even know when you got guardianship.
And you’re no billionaire.” He’s right, I’m not.
But he also has no idea about my trust because I’ve never had to touch it.
“Plus, you’re a professional athlete who travels a lot.
According to their argument in this petition, that leaves Stella in someone else’s care too often. ”
“I’d retire from hockey before I’d let her go live with them.”
Tom’s face gets serious. “That may need to be an option, unless you have a good reason that she’s better off with you and a nanny than she is with CeCe and Tony.”
“I can’t just make up something about the two of them out of thin air.”
“Listen,” Tom says as he picks up his racket that’s resting against the wall. “Look into Tony’s business practices, or CeCe’s social connections. Find something, anything, that makes them seem sketchy.”
We nod to the players leaving the court and head through the glass door.
“How am I supposed to do that?” I ask him, thankful for the privacy of the enclosed court. It’s not soundproof though, so we keep our voices low.
“I know a woman. She’s a private investigator. I’ll put you in touch with her. If anyone can find dirt on them, it’s her.”
“Okay,” I say uncertainly. “I’ll give that a shot. In the meantime, do I need to talk to my agent? With my contract ending, he’s actively negotiating with New York and also looking at other opportunities. I’m eyeing LA.”
Tom’s eyebrows dip. “Why LA?”
He knows why, but he’s going to make me say it. “Because Petra’s in LA. That might be the answer to these problems, actually. If we can make this marriage work, even if it’s in LA, it takes away their main argument against my guardianship. And then we can pursue adoption too.”
Tom clears his throat as he bounces the small ball against the floor, then catches it in his hand a few times in rapid succession. “Petra’s on board with this plan?”
“I haven’t told her yet. I need to make sure LA is a possibility before I bring it up.”
“Or,” Tom hedges, as he walks to the service box on his preferred side of the court, “maybe you should talk to her before making a potentially life-altering decision?”
“I’m not going to make any decisions without talking to her. But I don’t see the point in bringing up the possibility until I know it’s actually a possibility.”
“I won’t pretend to know Petra well,” he says, bouncing the ball again several times to warm it up, “but I get the sense that she likes to have some level of control over things. She doesn’t strike me as the type who would like to be surprised.”
A laugh bursts out of me as I gaze down at my racket. “No, she doesn’t like surprises.”
“So don’t surprise her then,” he warns. “Don’t come to her with this big plan for your future that you’ve concocted without her. Let her be a part of the decision-making from the outset.”
“Avery has made you both soft and wise, hasn’t she?”
“Something like that.” His voice is gruff, like it always is when he talks about her. It’s been fun watching my ruthlessly emotionless squash opponent fall in love.
Tom hits the ball against the front wall gently, and we volley it back and forth for a few minutes to warm up. “I’ll talk to her when she’s back for our end of season party,” I tell him.
“This weekend?”
I grunt out a “yes” and I dig down deep to return the ball he just hit.
“How are you having your end of season party before your season is over?”
“Scheduled it before we knew we’d make the finals.” We’ve just won Game 7 of the semifinals, so now we’re headed to the Stanley Cup finals in just over a week.
“I’m sure Avery’d like to see Petra while she’s here,” Tom says.
“Tell Avery to get in touch with her, then,” I tell him, wondering if Petra hasn’t told Avery she’ll be back. I suspect that she’s been too busy to do a good job keeping in touch. “I’m sure Petra would love to see her.”
“All right,” Tom says, catching the ball in his hand and setting himself up for a real serve. “Let’s play.”
I towel-dry my hair and then wrap the damp towel around my waist. I normally shower at the club after we play, but since it was lunch hour, there were too many professionals like Tom waiting for the showers, and I decided it was easier to just come home.
I make my way through my room and into the hall, heading toward the kitchen. I’m so hungry after that workout that my stomach is making all kinds of sounds.
As I cross through the entryway toward the dining room, the elevator dings.
That’s weird. Only two people have access here, and one of them is in LA.
I turn, expecting to find Raina and preparing to apologize for walking around in my towel.
But instead, the doors open and Petra is standing there with her suitcase.
I know my jaw drops open at the sight of her. Hers does the same.
“You’re here.” I can’t quite contain my smile.
She looks nervous. “I hope you don’t mind me showing up a day early with no warning?”
“I guess that depends on your reason for coming early.” I’m frozen in place as the thought crosses my mind that she could be here to break things off.
“I missed you.” Her reason is so simply stated, so raw. She shrugs nonchalantly, but I see some sort of fear or pain flash across her eyes before she gives me a small smile.
I open my arms and she rushes into them, curling her limbs around my back, pulling me tight to her.
I do the same, and kiss her forehead gently, considering how precious she is to me.
She stays cradled against me for a few minutes and then pulls her upper body away, glances down at where our bodies are connected at the waist, and laughs out a “Really?”
“You’re pressed up against my naked body, and I haven’t seen you in weeks. What do you expect?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” she warns.
I lift one eyebrow slightly. “Like what?”
“Like you’re undressing me in your mind. I can always tell by the way your eyes change.” She plants her hands and forearms against my bare chest.
“If you want me to stop undressing you in my mind, you’re going to need to stop touching me like that.” My lip curves into a smile. Whether we have sex right now or not, it’s just so fucking good to have her back in my place.
“Fine,” she says as she steps back out of my arms. “Not because I don’t want to be naked with you, but because I come with a shit ton of information I need you to look at.”
“Information?”
“About Tony Gionetti.”
My stomach sinks. If that name isn’t a mood killer, I don’t know what is. “Why do you have ‘information’ on Tony?”
“Because he’s skeevy as hell and so I had a friend of mine who’s a private investigator look into him.”
“Funny,” I say. “Just this morning, Tom gave me this woman Alicia’s number and told me to give her a call about this very thing.”
Petra just stares at me like she’s dumbstruck. “Alicia?”
“Yeah, he didn’t give me a last name, but he said she’s the best.”
“She is,” Petra confirms. “That’s who I had look into Tony. And you’re going to be completely disgusted at what she found.”
What are the chances?
“Let me get dressed,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” She pushes her suitcase against the wall of the entryway and takes her over-the-shoulder bag and heads into the living room.
I get dressed as quickly as possible, wondering if I should tell Tom that Petra has dirt on Tony? It only makes sense to wait until I know more—until I know if it’s significant enough to keep him away from Stella for good.
She’s not in the living room when I come back from my room in sweatpants and a T-shirt, so I head into the den and find her curled into the corner of the couch.
“This is my favorite room.” She lets out a contented sigh.
“The den?” I ask, glancing around.
She laughs. “This whole time I’ve been calling it the ‘sitting room’ in my mind.”
“Like we’re in a British period drama?” I can’t hide my amusement.
She shrugs. “I guess. I love the light, and the view, and the fireplace.” She looks me up and down as I cross the room to sit on the couch. I tuck one leg under me as I turn to face her.
Her lips curl up on one side and there’s laughter in her eyes. Not what I expected, given the conversation we’re about to have. “What?”
“Remind me sometime to tell you about my friend Sierra and her thoughts on gray sweatpants.”
What? “Will do. Now, about Tony?”
She clears her throat. “He’s into some bad shit, Sasha. I have literally felt sick for the last twelve hours since I found out.”
I look at her expectantly. “Are you going to tell me?”