Chapter Twelve
“I’m sorry, but there isn’t much you can do.” Sharon Camden, their incredibly expensive lawyer, leaned forward, resting her forearms on her massive desk. “The fact that the building was sold in a foreclosure makes your lease agreement null and void.”
Alex looked at Janelle, whose face had turned an ashy color, and then back at their attorney. “How is that possible?”
Sharon tented her fingers and tilted her head in what she probably thought was a comforting gesture. Newsflash, it wasn’t. “There was no non-disturbance clause in your lease agreement. That means the lessee isn’t protected in all cases, including foreclosure.”
Janelle reached over and grabbed Alex’s hand, giving her fingers a squeeze. While the gesture was sweet, she still felt like she was going to throw up.
“How did this get missed?” Janelle’s voice had a hard edge to it. Apparently, she was over the shock and was on to pissed off. “In the original lease agreement, I mean?”
Sharon shook her head. “I don’t know. Since I wasn’t the one who looked over the initial contract, I can’t say. I’m sorry.”
“So, there’s really nothing we can do?” The defeat in Janelle’s voice made Alex want to cry. The back of her eyes felt hot, but she blinked hard. She would not cry. Not in front of the lawyer.
Sharon looked back and forth between them. “Unfortunately, no.”
“Well, okay then.” Janelle patted the edge of Sharon’s desk and stood. Alex scrambled to her feet, her brain fuzzy and hollow. She felt like a zombie, shuffling through the motions.
“Thank you.” Janelle nodded to Sharon and turned and walked out of the office. Alex followed on autopilot. Denial continued to chase itself around in her mind. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.
Janelle pressed the button on the elevator with more force than was probably necessary, jabbing it a couple of times for good measure. Shocked silence stretched between them. The elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open. The thing was packed, but Janelle squeezed in. Alex followed.
Although the law office was only on the tenth floor, the trip down to the lobby seemed to take forever. The elevator stopped on every floor, people shuffling in and out. It was stifling, the air close and hot and altogether unpleasant.
With every second, her queasiness worsened. Her stomach felt like it was in a row boat, sloshing around in the middle of a hurricane. Bile crept up her throat and saliva flooded her mouth.
The doors opened and the people spilled out. She took a giant gulp of the slightly fresher air and hurried into the lobby. But it was too late.
“I’m gonna be sick.” She raced for the bathroom, thankful there was one on this side of the lobby.
She barreled into one of the stalls. Managed to close the door behind her before everything came rushing back up.
She emptied her stomach contents into the toilet.
Not that there was a lot. She’d been so stressed, all she’d managed to consume since the letter arrived was a cup of tea and some water.
The remains of her oatmeal breakfast came up, too, though.
She flushed the toilet and stood there, arm braced on the wall of the stall. Her stomach gave another gurgle and heave. She sucked a breath in through her nose, pushed it out of her mouth. After a couple more, her stomach settled.
Finally confident she wasn’t going to be sick again, she opened the stall door.
Janelle stood by the sink, her arms crossed, her eyes sad. Alex walked over and rinsed her mouth out a couple of times, getting rid of the taste of sick on the back of her tongue. She glanced at herself in the mirror.
Big mistake. She looked terrible. Her skin was paper white, her eyes dull.
She turned to Janelle. Janelle tilted her head. Her lower lips trembled, just the tiniest bit. Tears welled in Alex’s eyes. She tried to blink them back again.
This time she wasn’t quite quick enough, and one spilled down her cheek. Janelle wrapped Alex in her arms before another one could fall.
She sank into the embrace, wrapping her arms around Janelle and squeezing tight. She managed to stave off the rest of the tears, but her chest still ached like she’d been crying for hours.
They stood there, holding each other in the bathroom, rocking slightly back and forth for what had to be at least ten minutes. And then Janelle started to laugh. Alex pulled away and stared at her best friend like she’d just sprouted a second head—out of her butt.
“Why are you laughing?” Her voice came out a little accusatory.
Janelle patted her on the arm. “Because we’re hugging in the bathroom. If anyone came in, they’d think we’d lost it.”
She felt one side of her mouth twitch. Her skin felt tight and brittle, but she pushed past it until she was smiling for real. Then reality came crashing back in and her smile faltered. “What are we going to do, Janelle?”
“Same thing we always do.” Janelle took her hand and squeezed her fingers. This time, a bit of hope slid through her. “We move forward.”
Janelle was right. If nothing else, they were survivors. They knew how to keep moving. Even if it was slowly, they always moved forward. And that’s exactly what they would do this time.
Even though it hurt like nothing had in a long time.
She squeezed Janelle’s fingers back and then let go. Back to reality, no matter how crappy it felt.
They exited the bathroom and walked across the lobby, heading toward the door and another uncertain future. Dammit, she had been sure this kind of turmoil was behind her.
“You know how they say the universe doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle?” She slipped through the revolving door of the building and popped out onto the sidewalk.
Janelle stepped up beside her. “Yeah?”
“Well, the universe sucks. And doesn’t know a damn thing.”
“Amen, sister.” Janelle started toward her car. “Amen.”
Nick balanced the tray of drinks in one hand and pushed open the door to the arena with the other. The same one where the Sparkles practiced. An unexpected, but not unwelcome, smile spread across his face.
Being back here brought back all the same feelings of being on the ice the last time. The pleasure and the fun, without all the pressures and expectations and failures.
The nervous energy jumping around inside him he could do without, however.
He hadn’t been this anxious since the night before he was drafted. He was all sweaty and flustered, which was stupid, because he was only attending a minor league hockey game.
Except, it was so much more than that. It was also about Alex and what happened in her little rust bucket of a car.
And about the way he’d acted when she’d taken him back to the hotel. The dark thoughts that had plagued him.
He’d let the insecurities in, let the doubts and worries take up too much real estate in his brain. She hadn’t asked for anything outside of their professional relationship, other than they keep things between them casual.
Which he was more than capable of doing. He just needed to stay out of his head and he’d be fine. Thinking had never been his strong suit, anyway.
Besides, what they’d done in her little car hadn’t required any thinking at all.
Which was something he wasn’t focusing on right now. Attending a minor league hockey game with a semi would deservedly get him thrown in jail.
He wove his way through the people milling around in the lobby, heading toward the double doors that led to the stands. Using his hip, he pushed the swinging door open. The cold smell of the ice rushed to greet him. He took a deep breath. A weird calm washed over him.
Until he walked to the base of the stands and turned to look for Alex and Em.
He spotted them almost immediately. His heart squeezed a couple of jittery beats.
They sat side by side in the middle of the section to his right, about halfway up stands.
The seating was inclined rows of built-in benches that stretched the length of the ice.
The short walkway in the center divided the stands into two different sections.
Em had on a bright pink jacket, jeans, and a big, fluffy, black scarf wound around her neck.
Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that swung around with her excited movements.
Alex’s hair was down, a shimmery golden fall over her shoulders.
She wore the same coat she’d worn previously, the one that made her eyes look more blue that grey, and skinny jeans. He bet her ass looked great in them.
Mind out of the gutter, Sadler. Minor hockey game, remember?
Right. No thinking about her great ass, or the incredible make out session. He shook his head to dislodge those thoughts. Because trying not to think of them, while reminding himself of everything they’d done, was not helpful.
Em spotted him. A huge smile broke out on her face. She waved, bouncing up and down in her seat. He couldn’t help but smile back. She was such a great kid.
She elbowed Alex and pointed. Alex turned, her gaze following Em’s finger and slamming into him like a defense man protecting the blue line. His heart gave a couple of hard slaps against his ribs.
Her lips turned up in a tiny smile, but there was something missing. Something was off. He could tell from all the way down here. The urge to go to her, wrap her in his arms, tell her everything would be okay flooded through him.
But he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t his place, this wasn’t a relationship. Not a real one, anyway. Mutually casual. Plus, this thing between them had an expiry date. One that would be here soon, if he had his way.
The sliver of sadness that slid under his skin at the idea of things between them ending was irrelevant. It was just him being dumb or some shit. Once he got back to reality, everything would go back to normal.
He headed up the stairs toward them. The stands weren’t too busy yet—in typical fashion, he was super early, but then, so were Alex and Em—so he made it to them without dumping the tray of drinks down his front and making a fool of himself.