Chapter 3
Jeremy Vaughn was a complete tool, and that was an insult to tools everywhere. I was still thinking about him the next day as I sat through meetings with all the other department heads, followed by another meeting with the PR staff as we arranged promo shots with the players as well as scheduling various promotional videos. Thankfully, I had a team doing that, but I’d be watching to make sure it all looked appropriate. I’d politely let all the player agents know that I wanted the boys to show up looking professional, and that clearly meant not looking like total slobs. While we had a style team ready and waiting, there was no time to cut hair or trim unruly beards.
That had made me think of Jeremy. He’d cut his hair, or so Tangi had told me. Something about knowing he had to look decent in promo shots. It helped when your handsome captain looked like someone you’d want to fuck, not that he interested me in the least. Not after last night and his remark about Ethan getting me the job. I was fairly certain he hadn’t gotten me the job, at least that’s what Tangi had said, but that had me wondering now, and I hated second-guessing myself.
Jeremy was a tool for making me question my abilities.
After the tedious meetings with the department heads, I went back to my office for a quick lunch while I read over budget reports. Clay wasn’t a tightwad like the higher-ups at Richardson’s, but he did want us to stay within budget, and I needed to know what that budget was and understand the numbers. I had no idea what it took to run a PR team for a professional hockey team, but it had to be less than a multibillion-dollar company.
As I was running the numbers, my phone rang. Hardly anyone called me unless it was Wolseley, Tangi, or my mother… shit. I could let it ring and go to voicemail, but then she’d keep calling every half hour until I answered. I hadn’t spoken to her in months, just the way I liked it, but I had sent her a text to tell her about the new job. Was she now getting around to acknowledging it? The thought of this conversation made my stomach churn. No other person had that effect on me.
After one deep breath, I picked up and said, “Hey, Mom.”
“Oh, I actually got you to answer,” she said, her voice devoid of any warmth.
“I am at work,” I said as pleasantly as possible.
“Do you have time or not?”
I bit my lip and tried not to crush my phone, not that I had the strength to do that. “I have some time. What’s up?”
“I just saw the text you sent me. You know I don’t like texting. You should have picked up the phone to call. Have you already moved to Canada?”
“Yes, a few weeks ago,” I said, rising from my seat and looking out my window. Staring out at the Rockies gave me some serenity.
“You could have called to tell me.”
Not that she would have helped me pack or even driven me to the airport. My mother had always put in the least amount of effort when I grew up. I was her only child after my dad walked out when I was six, and she rarely dated after that, but then she met Rick at a singles’ night when I was seventeen. They fell into like—a mutual desire for stability and company. Rick had a good job as an ad guy for the big newspaper in the city, and Mom kept her job as an admin assistant at a middle school. They left on vacation every Christmas and summer—without me, just the way Mom wanted. I was an encumbrance that my mother put up with. Rick was more decent and attentive than she’d ever been.
When I hit eighteen and got a job, she told me it was time to leave, that I could support myself. Had it not been for all the scholarships I’d gotten and the massive student load, I wouldn’t have been able to go to college. Rick had been kind enough to help me out with some cash for books, but Mom was adamant that I strike out on my own like she had to do.
She was a peach.
“Why?”
I could hear Tangi’s and Wolseley’s voices in my head telling me to be nice, but nah. I had to hit Mom between the eyes just like she did with me. How many times had she told me I was too skinny, and she hoped I’d grow some boobs one day. How many times had she called me a bitch when I didn’t agree with her? And how many times had she called to see how I was doing when I lived in a shitty apartment with two people I didn’t know I could pay the rent? About that—not once. Thankfully, Wolseley and I got a place together a year later. With all Wolseley’s pastries, those boobs finally came in.
“Because I’m your mother,” she said tersely. “I like to know where my kid is.”
“I’m in Vancouver. Now you know.”
“You never did tell me about Richardson’s. What happened?” she pressed on. “Why did they fire you?”
I tapped my free hand on my leg to keep my anger from simmering. “They didn’t fire me. When the Canadian expansion wound down, they laid me off.”
Mom blew out a loud breath. “If they wanted to keep you, they would have given you your old job back.”
“Maybe so, but I’m glad they didn’t. I’ve got a new and exciting job.” I didn’t have to add that it was also very far away from her.
“Do you even plan to come home for Christmas?”
Now was not the time to laugh sarcastically, but last year she’d suggested we all have Christmas dinner together along with Rick’s son from a previous marriage. She and Rick decided not to go to Hawaii, but at the last minute, the venue changed from Mom’s to Rick’s son’s place, and suddenly I was no longer invited. My own mother didn’t think to ask Parker—Rick’s son—if it was okay to have me along. If she had, there was no doubt that Parker would have obliged, but Mom didn’t think of it because she was only concerned with herself.
“Probably not. Is that a problem? It didn’t seem to be a problem last year when you spent it with Rick’s family.”
Mom sighed dramatically. “Are we still talking about that? I said it was an oversight.”
“It’s nice to know I’m an oversight. Is there anything else, Mom? I really need to get back to work.”
“I told Rick you’d be like this. I’m not sure why I bothered calling. Anyway, it seems like work is more important than talking to me.”
I could have told her that I’d call her later, but I didn’t want to. I had to protect my mental health, and the only way I could do that was to cut my mom out of my life. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Anyway, I need to run. Have a good day. Take care.”
With that I hung up.
I could have been nicer, and I did feel a bit bad, but she wasn’t going to get me down. Not when I had a job to do, and right now, I couldn’t even look at the budget, as I spent the next hour organizing my office before heading to my PR meeting. I was surprised to see Clay there, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face. We were also joined by the heads of all other departments. Hadn’t we just had a meeting? I set my notepad down and took a seat. We all looked at each other, trying to figure out what was going on.
“I’m guessing by the looks on your faces that you have no idea what’s going on.”
Crap. I had no idea what he was talking about, and judging by the way my phone was vibrating on the boardroom table, something huge had happened. I was still getting to know my staff, but I was pretty sure they would have told me if something bad had happened.
“I’ve had my head buried in budgets,” I said. “But I don’t think I’m looking forward to what you have to tell me.”
“No, you aren’t.”
He slid his phone toward me displaying a gossip blog. A video was paused, and I felt my body deflate. Who on the team had screwed up? I grabbed the phone knowing I was about to find out. When I hit play, I saw Jeremy with a woman; they had their arms around each other, smiling at each other, and then he leaned down to kiss her. A sting went through me, not that I thought the guy was interesting, but more because he had a sex life. I pushed that aside quickly. This wasn’t the time to whine about my lack of a sex life.
“I’m guessing that who he is kissing is the problem,” I said, handing the phone to Mark, who was head of marketing. I hadn’t spent much time with Mark, and already didn’t like him, but his reaction made me worry. He grimaced and let out a groan.
Who the hell was this woman?
“Shit,” Evan said. He was in charge of media.
“Okay, I think someone better tell me who this woman is,” I said.
Clay looked at me; his normally jovial gray eyes had fire in them. “Our captain, the man who is supposed to be a pillar for the team and the community, is screwing around with Lex Donnelly’s wife. You know, our top defenseman? That Lex Donnelly.”
Holy shit.