Chapter 5
FIVE
RUBY
After my third trip to and from the car, I am so much more comfortable walking around on the carpeted ice than I was the first few times. It also helps ease my nerves to know that the hot hockey player has left for the locker room.
He completely unnerves me.
He’s so damn sexy, and he kept smiling and flirting with me, although I’m fairly certain that was all just him being charming. He probably talks and smiles to every woman that way.
“Oh, Ruby,” a voice calls out just as I’m placing the last cupcake on the display.
I take a step backward, careful not to have my feet anywhere near the ice, and take in my artwork. I’m still trying to make sure I keep at least one of my goals for the day. I’m trying really hard not to fall.
“It’s stunning,” the event coordinator states as she walks up beside me.
I keep my gaze focused on the cakes. The display is pretty.
I spent hours and hours piping the team’s logo on the frosted cupcakes, and my fingers and hands still ache from the work.
But they’re here, and it’s done. It was definitely the right choice to do it all by hand rather than printing the logo on rice paper, the way the event coordinator suggested.
I really don’t like the mouthfeel of that paper.
“Thanks,” I exhale.
She hums. “You can stay. You did all this work. You might as well eat some amazing food and drink free booze.”
Her offer sounds amazing, and I’m considering taking her up on it even though it goes against all my personal policies. Never get mixed up with paying jobs. Drop off the cakes, thank them, collect my check, and vanish.
But he’s going to be here. I know that he is, and I want to see him again, even if it’s across the room and I don’t actually speak to him. I just want to be near him, and I know just how creepy that sounds, so I don’t say it out loud.
I open my mouth to politely decline when she takes one step toward me, then another.
She’s so close I can’t help but wonder if there is going to be a whole other drama, because while I think she’s pretty and everything, I’m not into women at all.
But when I hold my breath, wondering if she’s going to kiss me, her lips curve up into a grin.
“Don’t say no, I won’t accept it.”
I watch as she takes a step backward, then another, before she reaches behind her and produces an envelope. She shifts her hand forward, pressing the envelope against my chest. Placing my hand against it, my fingers curl around it as her hand falls.
“Think about it,” she states, and then she’s gone before I can thank her.
I think about opening the envelope right here in the middle of the arena, but ultimately decide against it. I turn to leave, but not before taking one last glance behind me to the locker room where Liam disappeared.
I don’t know what I’m expecting right now. In the fairy tale, he pushes open the door and hurries toward me, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me. In reality, I walk away, and he doesn’t even remember my name.
As I move through the arena and back to the delivery van, I take the envelope out of my pocket. Opening it slowly, I slide my finger beneath the flap, then reach inside. Slipping out the paper, I gasp at the sight of the check.
It was only twelve dozen cupcakes. One hundred and forty-four cupcakes. Plus, a setup fee of one hundred dollars. That’s all. Almost five hundred dollars—that’s what the check is supposed to be for, except it’s not.
One thousand dollars.
I blink at the numbers on the check, reading the words to make sure that’s how much the check is really for, and it is. There is no mistaking it. A thousand bucks for my work. And then there are tickets.
Tickets to the event.
Two.
One for me and one for a guest.
I have nobody to invite. But then I think about Liam, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s going to be there. I decide I’m going to throw caution to the wind and show up.
Even if it means I’m going to have all of my hopes crushed into fine powder because the man I have a crush on will likely be cuddled up to someone else. That’s what I need, though. I need all hope to be crushed into fine powder and released into the atmosphere.
I need to be reminded of who I am and what I do. I’m the help. I’m not the one who gets the guy. And I would do well to remember that about myself. He’s a hot, successful, semi-famous hockey player. It’s silly of me to think that he would even be remotely interested in me.
I’m going to the party, and I’m going to watch him. Rest assured, by the end of tonight, he’ll have made enough of an ass of himself that I won’t be attracted to him in the slightest.
That’s my hope anyway.