Chapter 18 Collette
COLLETTE
My phone rings, and it’s Jo. I answer on the second ring, grinning because today is the day she hands in her resignation and officially becomes a New Yorker.
“Hey! Did you hand in your …”
“I got fired.” Her voice cracks.
I still. “What?”
“Cameron called his dad when I handed in my resignation. He didn’t know what to do with it. David came down and fired me on the spot. Said I was disloyal. A bad influence.” She’s sobbing now. “He had security escort me out, Lettie. Like I was some criminal.”
My hand grips the phone so hard my knuckles go white.
That piece of shit. My sister gave that club five years of her life.
She was the best physio they had, and everyone knew it.
She got passed over for a promotion she deserved, so the owner’s unqualified son could have the job, and now she’s being fired for having the courage to leave.
“Oh my god, Jo ...”
“And my visa.” I hear the panic spike in her voice. “Shit. My visa is tied to my job. I have a week, maybe less, to pack up and leave the country.”
She can’t breathe, I can hear it through the phone, the short, shallow gasps that come when your chest tightens, and the world feels like it’s closing in.
“Jo, breathe. Just breathe.”
“I don’t know what to do. I have to pack up my entire life in a week.”
“Listen to me.” I switch into the voice I use when shit hits the fan, the one Pierre calls my general mode. “You’re going to be fine. I’m calling HR right now. We’ll work something out. The Mavericks want you. I’m sure we can expedite everything, just like they did for me when I left the Devils.”
“But my visa ...”
“I’ll handle it. Go relax for a moment and then start packing what you need and what you don’t need. I’ll call you back in a few hours.”
“Lettie ...”
“I’ve got you, sis. I promise. Just breathe.”
“Okay.”
“I love you. And, Jo? Fuck David Cooper.”
That gets a broken laugh out of her. “Yeah. Fuck him.”
I hang up, and I’m already moving. Phone in one hand, laptop open with the other.
I call HR. I call the head of the medical department.
I email anyone who has the power to speed this up, and explain the situation.
I’m professional but firm and make it very clear that Joelle St. Pierre is the physio this team hired, and she needs to be in New York as soon as possible.
I’m not asking. I’m telling. By the end of the day, I’ve got confirmation that they can expedite Jo’s work visa through the organization’s immigration lawyers.
She’ll need to fly out within the week, but she’ll have a job and a visa waiting for her when she lands.
Later that night, I call Jo back. I’ve spent the afternoon on the phone with HR, legal, and basically everyone I could get hold of.
“Okay. I talked to HR. And legal. And basically everyone.” I’m breathless. “We can expedite your visa through the US Embassy in London.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The Mavericks have done this before for international players. There’s a process. It’s fast-tracked for professional athletes and essential staff.”
“How fast?”
“They’ve booked you an appointment for tomorrow. You’ll go in and submit your paperwork. They’ll interview you. And if everything checks out, they’ll stamp your passport on the spot.”
“On the spot?”
“Yes. Then you can fly to New York this weekend. The boys will pay for it.”
“I can buy my own ticket.”
“They knew you’d say that. But they want to do this for you. If you fly this weekend, the boys aren’t playing. So, they can help move you in and everything.”
“That’s so soon.” I can hear the panic in her voice.
“I know. But your UK visa expires in a week. We need to move fast.” I pause. “Can you do it?”
There’s silence on the line before she replies. “Yeah. I can do it.”
“Good. I’ll email you all the details. The embassy appointment. Flight information. Everything.”
“Thank you, Lettie.”
“Of course. We take care of each other.” My voice softens. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too.”
We’re all at JFK. Me, Pierre, Felix, Harper, and Issy. Pierre had a sign made that says
WELCOME HOME JO
because my brothers don’t do anything small. We’re standing at arrivals waiting, and I’m bouncing on my feet because my sister is about to walk through those doors and be in the same city as me for the first time in five years. She comes through customs, drops her bags, and runs.
I catch her first. “You’re here,” I say.
“I’m here.” She cries.
Pierre hugs her next. Then Felix. “Welcome to New York, sis.”
“Glad to be here,” she tells him.
Then Harper and Issy, the newest members of our family, step closer, and she gives them both cuddles.
We grab her bags and head to the party bus Pierre organized. When Jo steps in and sees the LED colored lights, the stripper pole, and the black leather seats, she bursts out laughing.
“It was the only thing that fit us all,” I tell her as I walk on with her.
“Who’s ready to party?” Harper smirks, grabbing a bottle of champagne out of the fridge and popping it like a professional, pouring us all a glass.
Pierre stands, holding his glass high. “Welcome to New York, sis. We are so happy to finally have you home.”
Everyone cheers as we leave the airport and drive into the city.
The traffic is horrendous, and by the time we pull up to the building, we’re all tipsy.
The doorman helps us with the luggage as we pile out.
The boys introduce Jo to him and let him know she’s moving in, then we head up.
The elevator ride is forever, and we’re all squished in, giggling, still tipsy from the champagne.
“What floor?” Jo asks.
“Fiftieth,” I tell her.
The elevator dings and we pile out. I lead everyone down to the end of the hall and unlock the door.
Jo’s face when she walks in is everything.
The apartment is massive, floor-to-ceiling windows with city views, an open concept living room and kitchen, and everything is sleek and modern.
She’s taking it all in, and I’m watching her reaction because I’ve been waiting for this moment.
“This is incredible.” She breathes.
“Lucky, we know the landlord and get cheap rent.”
Much to Jo’s annoyance, Pierre has organized a welcome party for her.
It’s cute. He means well, he’s just excited that she is here, we all are.
He’s organized enough food and drinks to keep everyone happy.
The apartment is buzzing, and Harper and Felix are joined at the hip as always.
Issy is chatting with her sisters while Pierre makes sure everyone has drinks, he is in his hosting element.
Fish, Bouch, Nelly, Evan, and Sully are here, along with a couple of other guys who are friends of Pierre and Felix.
Jo is doing her best, she’s mingling and being polite, but I can see the jet lag pulling at her.
She flew halfway across the world yesterday, and Pierre is making her socialize when she doesn’t like it at the best of times.
I stay close enough to be her safety net, but far enough away that she doesn’t feel smothered.
Emmett finally arrives, even though he is literally down the hall, and the guys are happy to see him.
Pierre spots him from the kitchen and waves him over.
They chat for a bit, and then Pierre introduces Jo to him.
I don’t know what happened, but they both had an instant reaction to one another, and not in a good way.
Look, they are both grumpy people, maybe that’s their love language.
Fish appears beside me with a beer. “Your sister seems cool.”
“She is. Don’t get any ideas,” I tease.
“Please, one St. Pierre is enough trouble.” He grins, and it’s his normal grin, but something behind it is off.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m always okay,” he says, giving me that fake smile he does when he is trying to put on a brave face. What is he hiding?
My brows knit together. “You’re being weird.”
“No, you are,” he says.
I just stare at him. He looks uncomfortable as he sips his beer. “We need to talk. Meet me in my bedroom in five.”
“Okay.” He agrees, sounding confused.
I walk off down the hallway toward my room. My brothers are distracted by their women tonight, so they won’t notice that Fish and I have disappeared for a couple of moments. I walk into my room and make sure it’s tidy when moments later Fish walks in.
“What did you want to talk about?’ he asks, looking awkward.
“You,” I tell him.
“Me?” He points to himself.
“Yes, you. You’re acting weird, and you just lied to me out there,” I tell him.
“No, I didn’t,” he argues.
I raise a brow. “You gave me your fake smile.”
“My fake smile?” he questions.
“Yeah, the one you show the world when you’re trying not to let anything hurt you.”
Fish stares at me for a moment and then starts pacing back and forth. Oh shit, something is wrong.
“Whatever it is, Fish, you can tell me.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“We’re friends. Nothing you can tell me can change that,” I try to reassure him.
“It will change everything, and I’m not ready for that to happen,” he confesses.
My heart hurts, he looks so worried. “I promise, nothing will change.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “It will.”
“Is it because I confessed to having a sex dream about you?” I blurt out. That embarrassing moment came back when I was in the shower the other day, and I didn’t want to mention it.
“No, that was hot.” He gives me a cocky grin, which I’ll take as it’s better than the stressed-out look he’s had on his face. “Do you remember anything else from that night?”
I shake my head because I don’t. “Did I do something inappropriate to you? Is that what it is? Shit, Fish, is it me? Have I been stressing you out?”
His face softens. “You haven’t been stressing me. I just … I haven’t known the best way to talk to you about it.”
Oh shit. I did do something. “Tell me honestly. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “I hope you mean it when you say nothing is going to change.”
“I promise.”