Chapter 3
COLLETTE
It’s Friday night. I’ve survived my first week at the Mavericks, and I’m getting ready to go out in New York City for the first time since I moved here.
Which is kind of sad when I think about it.
I’ve been here for a couple of weeks, and the only places I’ve been are the training facility, the apartment, and the bodega on the corner where the guy behind the counter already knows my coffee order.
That’s not a flex, that’s a cry for help.
But tonight is different. Tonight, I’m going out with the girls from work and friends, and I’m going to have fun in one of the greatest cities in the world. Without my overprotective brothers.
“Pick something,” Eve says from my bed, where she’s been sprawled for twenty minutes, judging every outfit I’ve tried on.
“I can’t decide.” It’s not easy when you’re not a fashionista like she is.
“You’ve been deciding for half an hour. Wear the green top, it makes your boobs look insane.”
I look down at the green top, she’s not wrong. “Done.”
Evelina Alessi and her sister Violetta have been friends since Pierre and Felix moved in with their family in New York when they were teenagers.
She’s unapologetically gorgeous, in a couture boho cool girl way, and her older sister Violetta is that Upper East Side princess who is wilder than her sister and me, just better at hiding it.
She’s a man-eater, bossy and gorgeous, and has this allure that draws men in like flies to honey.
Where Eve is boho New York, Violetta is old money New York.
“Vi texted, she’s running late, she’ll meet us out front,” Eve says, checking her phone.
“Okay, I think I’m ready.” I grab my bag and check my reflection one more time.
Let’s go.
The bar is loud, dark, and perfect. Zara found it, she swears the team never goes there, which is the entire point. Marlowe and Billie are already in a booth with drinks ordered. When Vi, Eve, and I slide in, they greet us excitedly, and it immediately feels like we’ve all known each other forever.
Zara raises her glass. “To Collette’s first week. You didn’t cry once. That we know of.”
“Low bar, but I’ll take it.” I clink my glass against hers.
“Honestly …” Billie says, already a couple of drinks in, cheeks pink.
She leans forward like she’s about to share a secret.
“When they told us Pierre and Felix’s sister was joining the team, we were like, great, another family hire who’s going to suck.
” The table shifts slightly, nobody gasps or drops a glass, but I feel the air change.
“But you’re actually really good,” she adds quickly, like that fixes it.
“Like, genuinely. Your content ideas this week were better than anything we’ve had in months.
We thought you’d be useless and you’re not at all. ”
“Billie!” Marlowe chastises her.
“What?” Billie asks, seemingly shocked at her friend’s response, as if she didn’t just accuse me of being a nepo hire, which I am, but still.
“It’s not like that …” Marlowe says to me.
“It’s fine,” I tell her, waving away her concern. It isn’t the first time I’ve heard it, at least this time they are saying it to my face and not behind my back.
“What I’m saying is that you’re awesome.” Billie grins widely, which makes me laugh.
“Thanks.” I smile at her, the mood shifting again.
“You surprised us,” Zara adds. “We knew you were the Head of Content at the South Dakota Devils, and by coming to the Mavericks, it was sort of a demotion in our eyes. We admired your work at the Devils. You grew that team’s profile by a million percent.
We were worried that you thought you were better than us.
” Oh, I had no idea they felt like this because, honestly, the girls have been great toward me this week, and I haven’t felt out of place.
“And what Billie is saying is we’re happy you’re part of the team. ” Zara grins.
“I’m happy I am too. I know my arrival was filled with drama and chaos, and I appreciate you guys giving me a chance. I hate that because of my brothers, I’ve been given a leg up in this world.”
“Difference is you’ve got the talent behind it,” Marlowe adds. “In one week, we have had more eyes on us than this time last year.”
“What we’re saying is welcome to the team, and we can’t wait to see what the four of us can produce this season,” Zara adds.
“Here, here,” Billie says, raising her champagne glass, which makes me laugh.
“I’m so excited, too. Now let’s party.” I squeal as our table erupts.
The night moves on from that moment, and we are all dancing, drinking, laughing, and having a great time.
“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me,” Zara mutters, looking past my shoulder.
I turn around and still. What the hell are they doing here? Fish, Bouch, Evan, and Nelly are walking in. No Pierre. No Felix. Thank God, but still, so much for the hockey-free bar.
“What the hell?” Marlowe asks.
“What?” Eve asks, and I point at the group of guys walking in like they own the place.
“Oh, hello there …” She grins.
“Put those come-hither eyes away, they are off-limits. They’re Mavericks players,” I tell her.
“Oh. Damn. Yeah. No go zone there.” She nods in agreement, seeing as her family’s company represents some of them.
Thankfully, Vi is too distracted by some rich guy in a suit to notice the players walk in.
“Of all the fricken clubs, they end up here.” Zara groans.
“Ignore them.” I try to tell the girls, but the mood has already changed. Fish spots us immediately. He grins cockily, that stupid, easy grin that has the women falling to their knees and makes a beeline for our booth before any of his friends can stop him.
“Ladies.” He leans against the edge of the booth like he was invited. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“We were literally just talking about how players never come to this bar,” Zara says flatly.
“I’m honored to ruin that for you.” He grins. “Oh, and who is this gorgeous creature? I haven’t met you before,” Fish says, eyeing Eve.
“You must be the famous Fish,” Eve says, raising a brow.
“Famous? What have you heard?” He smirks as those bright blue eyes rake over her.
“Enough to know you should probably buy us a round,” Eve throws back at him.
He laughs, genuinely surprised, and I watch him clock the whole table, the work girls, and Eve, and when he makes a quick calculation that there are no St. Pierre brothers in sight, his shoulders drop half an inch.
“Deal.” He waves his boys over. “Hey, St. Pierre, wanna help me get the drinks?”
“Do I have to?” I moan.
“No, but if I’m shouting, I need help.” He grins.
Guess he’s right. I slide out of the booth and follow him to the bar. The boys quickly take my seat and make themselves comfortable with the girls.
“So,” Fish says, leaning against the bar, flagging the bartender. “Friday night, no brothers.”
“Incredible observation.” I chuckle as we are pressed against each other at the bar, thanks to the crowd.
He tilts his head, those blue eyes doing a lazy sweep that I choose to ignore. “You seem different without them hovering.”
“I’m the same person as I always am. You’ve only been here for five minutes, how could you possibly notice if I’m different or not?” I ask, slightly irritated by that comment.
“The fact that you followed me to the bar and have your tits pressed up against me sort of gives it away.” He grins as his eyes zero in on my tits. Green top for the win. Wait. No. I don’t want Fish checking out my boobs.
“Eyes up here, buddy,” I say, placing my finger under his chin.
This makes him chuckle. “You have great tits.”
“Thanks, but that kind of chat might work on a puck bunny, but it doesn’t work on normal women. Here I thought you were some renowned playboy. If that is how you flirt with women, I don’t know how you ever get laid.”
This has him bursting out laughing, a deep belly laugh that vibrates through me. “I like you, St. Pierre. You’re so much funnier than your brothers.”
“I know,” I say, giving him a wink. “Are you going to order drinks or flirt with me?”
“Can’t I do both?” he asks. I give him a look that says ‘no’, which makes him laugh again. He rattles off an order to the bartender, who nods and tells him he will send the bottles over to the table.
“Anyone catch your eye?” he asks as we make our way back to the table.
“I’m here with my girls, haven’t had a chance to check anyone out yet.”
“Too busy talking about me.” He winks.
“Your ego is out of control, you know that, right?”
“I have an ego for a reason,” he quips back.
“Yeah, for sleeping with all the puck bunnies.”
Fish stops walking, and I run into him. He turns around slowly and looks down at me.
“Like I said the other day, you of all people should know not to believe everything you read.” He’s right.
I notice slight tension in his body as he says that.
“But most of it’s true.” He winks as if a switch flips back on and he turns back into the playboy hockey star persona.