Chapter 23
OLIVIA
Pride is expensive.
Apologies are cheap.
Know the difference and know their worth.
—Olivia’s Secret Thoughts
“Hey.” Logan’s voice is low and so sexy as he tugs my hair, forcing my head back and dropping a kiss on my lips, not caring that I’m sitting outside, and any ranch worker or sibling, for that matter, could see us. He’s become far bolder with where he touches me and when. And I kind of love that.
For the first time in my life, I go with it. I don’t worry about who sees or what they think.
Not here. Not with him.
I close the top of my MacBook and smile at my husband, anxious for tonight even if I’m fighting exhaustion like I’ve never felt before. Ever. My periods seem to be getting heavier, and the aftereffects are getting worse.
“You look pale, Liv.”
“Such a sweet-talker, Logan.” I know he’s right, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear it.
He brushes his lips over my forehead and sighs. “Stop canceling your damn doctor appointments and get them to change your prescription. Seriously. It looks like a strong wind could knock you over right now.”
“Well then.” I grin, trying to ease his concern. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m sitting down.” I lift my chin, and he gathers my face in his hands and kisses me again. “Are you leaving for the game already?”
I offer up a silent prayer of thanks to the hockey gods for requiring their players to wear suits to the arena because this man in a suit is a sight to be seen.
Today’s is jet black with a matching dress shirt.
He’s opted for no tie and left the top two buttons open, and the urge I have to press my lips right there is so damn strong.
I know women like to go to the boy aquarium to see the players in their uniforms, but my goodness, I like mine just like this.
“Yeah. I told Coach I’d come early. He wants to discuss a few things.”
Something about that doesn’t sit right with me. “Have you heard from Peter?”
“Not lately, why?”
My hackles rise. “Not lately or not since you signed with him?”
Logan shrugs. “I’m married to his star agent.”
And his star agent is beginning to think Pete is a little fucking weasel.
“Anyway, any last-minute insights on the plan?”
“Other than no comment?” I tease. “No. Leave them wanting more. I planted the seed with one of my contacts, so you’ll definitely be asked about us before they even see me.
The rings on my finger and your name on my back will be all the confirmation they should need, but I have no doubt they’ll want more.
The next few weeks will be a little wild. But it’s nothing we can’t handle.”
“You are a frighteningly genius little thing, aren’t you, wife?” And the reverence in his tone is absolutely everything I ever hoped to hear. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight.” His lips brush over mine but are gone all too soon.
“Hey, Logan,” I call out as he walks away, and wait for him to look back. “Kick the Revolution’s ass tonight for me, okay?”
“You sure?” He laughs. “They’re your family’s team.”
“Yeah well, my husband is the Nobles’ captain.”
It’s time to cheer for a new team.
Nina
I received confirmation for Monica’s visitation this weekend. She’ll be there to pick Magnolia up at two p.m.
Olivia
Do you think she’ll actually show up this time?
Nina
According to her lawyer, yes. She said last time she canceled was for a stomach bug.
Olivia
And there’s no way to reschedule it so Logan isn’t gone for his away game during visitation?
Logan’s name flashes on my screen, and I send him to voicemail.
Nina
No. Sorry, my friend.
Olivia
It’s not your fault. I knew the answer before I asked the question. I just hate the idea of sending Maggie away. Even if it’s just for a few hours. But especially when he’s not here. And he hates it even more than I do.
We need to win, Nina.
Nina
I’m still working on it.
Olivia
Work harder.
“Peter, thanks for taking my call.” I don’t bother trying to hide the annoyance in my voice. The more I’ve thought about this, the more pissed I’ve gotten. And that’s saying something because I haven’t been thrilled with the partners for months as it is.
“It sounded urgent, Olivia. And you’re not my agent who overreacts. So tell me, what’s going on?”
I stand from the table I’ve turned into my outdoor office for the day and pace, knowing I’m about to walk a precarious line. “I’d like to know what your plans are for Logan.”
The line stays silent for a beat before Peter clears his throat. “In what regards?”
“In general. He mentioned in passing that he hasn’t heard from you, and I know he was unaware, as was I, that you were retiring when you took him on as a client in August. It’s October.
Do you have an exit plan set for him? Are there any sponsorship opportunities scheduled that you need him to look at?
Any ways to continue to increase Logan Adler as a brand, now that the season is beginning. Tonight.”
He takes a beat and I can only imagine the tense look in his eye that I’ve seen many times as he formulates his response. “I thought you and I could discuss that.”
No is on the tip of my tongue.
I don’t want my husband to be a transaction of mine.
But I also don’t know that I trust anyone else with him.
Precarious. Line.
“And when would we do that?” I ask through gritted teeth, already strategizing how to make this work.
“It would have to be next week. My schedule is full this week. But the partners and I have much to discuss before then.” There goes that motherfucking carrot again. “Let me check my schedule, and I’ll get back to you.”
My phone beeps, and I look at the screen.
Logan
How are you feeling?
This man shouldn’t be worrying about me before a damn game.
He has to focus. Not hear that I’m tired and a little dizzy and about to rip the balls off my boss, metaphorically speaking, of course.
“Let me know as soon as you do, and I’ll work my schedule around it.
I’d like for you to get Logan’s sponsorships on track and the plan laid out for him some time this month.
I think it’s only fair since he really felt like you misrepresented yourself by signing him without telling him of your retirement plans. ”
And maybe I’m exaggerating just a bit, but Peter doesn’t need to know that.
Logan got screwed last year, not by me, but by an underwhelming agent.
I refuse to let that happen to him again.
Pete is a giant in this industry.
But he’s also a relic, and I fear Logan is going to pay the price for him being stretched too thin.
He doesn’t need to work on his existing contract with the Nobles.
That’s set. What he does need to do is have my husband’s back the way he said he would, and right now, I’m not so sure that’s what’s happening.
“Misrepresented is a strong word, Olivia.”
There’s a threat buried somewhere in that sentence.
But if this man thinks I scare that easily, he’s obviously never bothered to pay attention.
“I’m sure it can all be worked out once there’s a transition plan in place,” I assure him. “And Peter . . .” I wait a beat for dramatic effect. It’s not like this is my first rodeo after all. “I don’t want to be his agent. He’s my husband. Not my client.”
“We’ll do what’s in the firm’s and the client’s best interest, as always, Olivia. I can assure you.”
I know they’ll do what’s in the firm’s best interest.
It’s the client’s I’m concerned with.
Logan
“Would you fucking relax, brother?” Rafe rests his elbows on his knees as he sits on his chair in front of his locker, his pants and pads on, and his Langley jersey still hanging behind him.
He’s always been that teammate. The one who’s laid-back pregame.
He can control the temperature of a locker room.
If the team’s too in their heads?
Rafe will manage to get everyone up for a round of hacky sac like it’s 2001.
Too loud and antsy?
He’s got a way about him that just calms everyone the fuck down.
It’s impressive, but it’s also annoying as hell. Especially when you’re freaking the fuck out and he’s cool as a goddamned cucumber.
“How about I take that stick and shove it up your ass after I’m done taping mine, huh? How’s that sound?” Even to my own ears, it sounds a little dramatic. Not something most of my team would say about me. But fuck—it’s been a day.
“What’s going on, Logan? You seemed fine earlier. Did the reporters get to you?”
“They didn’t help,” I bitch. I was surprised with how quickly word spread about my marriage before they’ve even seen Olivia and me together. Invasive fucks.
I toss him my tape and grab my wax. “They all wanted to know if she’s pregnant. Like that’s the only reason I’d marry her.”
“You were rough on her last season. Of course that’s what they’re going to remember.” He starts the process of taping his blade, looking at it instead of me, thankfully. Because man, do I hate being reminded of what a dick I was last year.
I rub beeswax over the tape wrapped around my blade and groan. “I’d just feel better if she’d answer the damn phone.”
His head snaps up. “You worried something’s wrong? Did you call the ranch? Pops?”
“No. She’ll have my balls if I do that. I’m hoping she’s just sleeping. She looked exhausted this morning—”
“Maybe try letting her sleep instead of fucking her so loud you wake the whole damn house.” I throw the wax at his head, and he catches it with a grin. “Thanks.” Dumb shit. “I was just saying she might not be so tired if you give her a break.”
“You know you’re an asshole, right?”
My brother grins as Coach walks into the locker room. “You say potato. I say vodka.”
“Okay, men. Time to get your heads on straight . . .”