CHAPTER ELEVEN
EMERSON
Eve was in an accident the night I had dinner with Eliott. She had been drinking. In fact, her blood alcohol level was almost two times the normal limit. Luckily, she hit a tree and not another car. It would’ve been worse if she had hurt or killed someone else in addition to injuring herself.
She was in the hospital for a few days and had to appear in court shortly after that. Her license was revoked. I took care of her for a while before releasing her back into the wild.
Life is never dull with my sister. The older she gets, the more she spirals, and I’m powerless to stop her. It’s getting harder to love her the way I always have. Unconditionally. At some point, it becomes less about love and more about enabling. Plus, I’m exhausted.
I climb down from the bench and glance around the space. Suki’s townhome has an upper deck. The entire third floor of the place is her master suite, and the deck is an extension of that space. It’s cedar wood construction, stained, sturdy, and made to withstand the harsh Chicago winters. It has a built-in bench along three sides with comfy cushions on top for seating. It’s a great entertainment space.
We can only utilize the outdoor space part of the year because of the cold winters here. Luckily, it’s fall, so the weather is still warm enough for a night outside. The area is high and has an amazing view of the downtown area. We just finished stringing lights. The sun is close to setting, and the bulbs will provide a cozy glow against the quickly darkening sky.
“Did you remember the wine?” Suki asks me. She’s wiping down the table.
“I did. I got red and white.”
“Perfect,” she replies with a smile over her shoulder. She places three large candles in the middle of the table and ignites the wicks. The flames shimmer in the dim lighting. “Let me pay you for them.”
“Absolutely not,” I protest.
Suki knows I got some bad news today. And because of it, my financial situation just went from bad to worse. But I can afford a couple of bottles of cheap wine to drown my sorrows.
“I’m so glad Oakley’s in town tonight,” I say, mostly to change the subject.
“Me too. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten together like this.”
Oakley has been living in St. Louis with Chase. He was drafted to play for the hockey team there during our senior year of college. Oakley joined him after graduation. Chase’s team has a week or so of travel, playing opponents along the West Coast, so she’s coming to Chicago for a few days to visit. She’s staying with her brother and Madison at his fancy, upscale apartment. We planned a night of wine and snacks at our place tonight so we can catch up with our old college friends.
I plug the lights in and stand back to observe my masterpiece.
“That’s so pretty,” Suki comments. “It looks perfect with the candles. Very romantic. Too bad it’s all girls tonight.”
“What do you mean? No man would appreciate this the way women would.”
Eliott comes to mind. He probably wouldn’t even acknowledge the ambiance if he were here right now. He doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.
I was able to halt the marriage talk the night he brought it up at dinner. Eve’s drama trumped everything else that night, including him. And he hasn’t brought it up again. Yet . But I can feel it coming, like the promise of a spring storm that threatens in the thick, humid air.
I continue to admire the lights as they hang from the posts in each corner of the space. They give the entire deck a magical feel.
Suki and I go inside to get dressed, then spend the next half hour on the final details. Right on time, the doorbell rings.
“Welcome!” I yell as I sling the door open, hugging Madison and Oakley one at a time before stepping back to let them enter.
Suki is right behind me, repeating the process.
“Look at this place,” Mads says, glancing around appreciatively.
“It’s so nice,” Oakley agrees.
“The best my parents’ money can buy,” Suki jokes.
“Hey, just be glad they are willing and able to help you,” Oakley says.
Both Oakley and Mads are from middle-class families. Suki and I both come from modest money, only my parents would never be willing to support me. Not unless I cower to their vision of my life. And I wouldn’t want their cash because it comes with strings. I cut those strings completely right after graduation.
“Let me give you a tour,” Suki suggests.
I follow the three of them around as Suki shows off the townhouse. We end the tour on the third-floor deck.
“This is amazing,” Mads says. She takes a seat on one of the bench cushions.
I lift the wine opener. “Red or white?”
“Red for me,” Oakley says.
“Same,” Suki agrees.
“White,” Mads gives her order. “I don’t feel like having red-stained teeth tonight.”
I snicker and screw the opener into the corks, pouring two glasses of red and two of white, taking one for myself after handing the others out.
Oakley picks up a small plate from the table and starts loading it with meats, cheeses, crackers, and fruit from the charcuterie board. “This looks amazing. Did you make it?”
“I did,” Suki proclaims.
I snort and give her a knowing look.
“I bought it and transferred the food from a box to that beautiful plate it’s now on,” she admits defiantly.
Oakley laughs.
“Same difference.” Mads waves her hand in the air. We all know she doesn’t like to cook but considers herself a pro at ordering takeout.
I grab a plate and follow behind Oakley. When all four of us are seated with wine and snacks, we settle in to eat and talk.
“How’s St. Louis?” I ask Oakley.
“It’s good,” she starts, “though I’d much rather be here with the rest of you.”
“We want you here too,” Mads adds with a pout.
“Can’t Ollie spin his magic and get Chase on the team?” I ask.
Oakley snorts. “My brother might be talented, but he doesn’t have that kind of pull.”
“I don’t know,” Mads hums. “He got Sam here. And God knows that took a miracle.”
“Sam?” I ask. I haven’t heard that name since sophomore year of college. “Sam Anderson?”
“Yep.” Mads nods.
“Wasn’t he playing for a team in California?” Suki asks before sipping her wine.
Suki and I are not hockey fans, but everyone on campus knew that Sam got drafted when we were attending Sinclair.
“Anaheim,” Oakley confirms. “But he had some … trouble recently.”
“More like he made his own trouble,” Mads adds, throwing a knowing look at her bestie.
“He’s been good at that for the past few years,” Oakley confirms.
“I didn’t nickname him Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, back in college for nothing,” Mads murmurs.
“Why? What did he do?” Suki asks.
I nibble on a cracker stacked with salami and cheese and listen.
Mads and Oakley exchange another look before Mads answers, “First semester at Sinclair, he broke up with the best thing that had ever happened to him.”
Oakley rolls her eyes, but there is a soft smile on her lips. “She means recently.”
“He got caught hooking up with his GM’s daughter in a very public place.”
My eyebrows lift. “Oh. That sounds scandalous.”
“Yeah,” Oakley says with a nod. “Not his best move.”
“Anaheim couldn’t get rid of him fast enough. And he didn’t have a lot of other teams clamoring to pick him up,” Mads says.
“But the Hawks decided to take him?” I ask.
Mads nods. “Ollie had a lot to do with it.” She glances at Oakley. “He has more pull with management than you think.”
“Apparently,” Suki agrees.
Madison sighs. “So, now, Sam’s here. And he’s becoming my problem to deal with.”
“How so?” I ask. I place my wineglass on the wood plank.
“You know how I’m working for that PR firm,” she begins.
I nod. Mads took a job with the same public relations firm that represents the Hawks organization. She’s been working for them since she moved here after graduation. Oakley is also working in PR, but in a more independent position. She promotes authors online and can basically work from anywhere.
“Well, we just inherited Sam and all his chaos. His sponsors aren’t happy with his notoriety. The coaches are wary of him. And management wants him kept in line or else.”
“Or else what?” Suki asks.
The soft glow of the lights forms a halo around Madison’s blonde hair as she talks. I lift my wineglass again and take a long drink while leaning into the backrest, enjoying the way the alcohol is warming my body. It’s especially welcome after the day I just had.
“Or they will end his contract,” Mads declares before popping a piece of bread with Brie into her mouth.
Suki whistles low. Oakley appears concerned.
“Wow,” I comment. “That’s harsh.”
From the little I know about Sam, it was always apparent that hockey was his life. I can’t imagine what he will do if he loses that.
“He did it to himself,” Mads adds. Oakley scolds her with a look. “What?” she asks firmly. “He did.”
“You know Sam better than any of us,” I say to Oakley. “What do you think?”
“I think Sam has veered off track. But he’s a good guy. We were so young when we started dating, but I never would’ve been with him if I didn’t see something in him. He’s so much more than how he’s been acting the past few years.”
Mads leans into Oakley, squeezing her into a side hug before letting go. “My bestie, the eternal optimist. I think you dodged a bullet.”
“It isn’t optimism to want to see the best in someone,” she counters.
“Actually,” Suki says, her eyes on her food as she grabs another bite, “that’s exactly what optimism is.”
We all giggle. I finish my wine and rise to refill everyone’s glasses.
“I think Oakley broke something in Sam when she crushed his heart,” Mads declares.
She holds her glass closer to me, and I fill it again.
“Actually,” Oakley starts, “he broke my heart. But that’s past history. Sam and I were never right for each other. I just didn’t see it until I started dating Chase.”
“Chase patched that broken heart up until it was good as new,” Mads says with a smirk.
“How are things going with him?” I ask.
“Fabulously,” she answers with a wide smile and a flush to her cheeks.
We talk about Chase and St. Louis. And Mads fills us in on her relationship with Ollie. They are still going strong too. Suki’s dating, and she describes her latest escapades. They ask about Eliott. There isn’t much new to tell, but I confirm that we are still together and things are fine. I leave out the part where he mentioned marriage.
“Well, I have news too,” I declare when there’s a beat of silence, emboldened by the alcohol. Everyone’s eyes focus on me. “I lost my job today.”
Sympathy fills the open air. Suki watches quietly. She already knows all the details of my bad day.
“Haven’t you been working at that place since you moved here?” Oakley inquires. “What happened?”
“It’s a family-owned business, a small coffee shop and bakery. And, yes, I’ve been there since I moved here. They’ve struggled a bit lately. Business isn’t as good as it used to be. Their kids took over a few months back, and things have gone downhill since. Because money is tight, they are cutting back. And since I’m not family, I’m the first to go.”
“I’m sure you’ll find another job fast,” Oakley replies kindly. Her optimism doesn’t end with ex-boyfriends.
“I have to,” I admit. “I need money coming in to pay the bills. My savings account is balancing on nothing.”
Madison’s head whips up, her eyes wide and flashing as she stares at me. “I have a solution!”
I smile cautiously. “I’m almost scare to ask …”
“Come work for the firm,” she continues excitedly.
I narrow my eyes in confusion. “I don’t have any PR experience.”
She shakes her head, and her wine sloshes precariously close to the rim with the movement. She sets it down. “Not to work in PR. I need someone to keep Sam in line.”
“What do you mean?” I ask with a furrowed brow.
“You know how they have sober companions for alcoholics? My boss wants someone like that to keep Sam on the straight and narrow for the rest of the year. You’re responsible. Level-headed. You’d be perfect.”
“You mean, like an adult babysitter?” Suki asks.
Oakley snorts.
Madison points at Suki. “That’s exactly what I mean.” She turns toward me and leans in, taking my hands. “It’s a win-win. You need a job and money; I need someone to deal with Sam. It pays well, and it’s temporary …”
She tells me specifics about the offer, accentuating the compensation, and it’s much more than I’ve ever made, working at the coffee shop. I’ve spent so many years worrying about money. This could set me up for a while. She dangles the cash in front of my face like a carrot.
I drain my glass, set it aside, and lean against the backrest. “What exactly would I have to do?” I sigh. I’m still unbalanced by her suggestion.
Mads smiles like she has me right where she wants me. She’s always been determined. “It’s a piece of cake. You make sure he doesn’t get sloppy drunk when he’s out for a night on the town. You keep him from getting photographed with women in … compromising situations. Basically, make sure he’s living clean—or at least portraying that image. And he can’t touch you. There’s a no fraternization clause.”
“For how long?” Suki asks while I’m mulling it over.
“For the rest of the hockey season.”
“How long is that?” I ask.
Mads and Oakley exchange an amused glance. They know I’m not a hockey fan, but I don’t think they can relate since they both grew up around the sport.
“It goes through the spring,” Mads says.
“But it can drift into early summer if they’re in the running for the cup at the end of the regular season,” Oakley adds.
Mads gives her a look.
“What?” Oakley says defensively. “She needs to know what she’s getting herself into.”
Mads bites her bottom lip and glances over at me.
“What?” I ask warily.
“There’s one more thing …”
I arch a brow and tilt my head, motioning for her to continue.
“You’ll have to travel with him and the team. And you’ll need to move in with him.”
“What?” I practically yell, already shaking my head. “Nope. No way. Not going to do that.”
“All your expenses will be paid.”
It’s not about travel or living expenses, though that’s good to know. But I remember Sam from my college days. Even though I didn’t know him well, it was difficult to fit into the same room with him and his ego taking up all the space. I heard little details about him from Oakley and Mads along the way. Negative things. And I can only imagine that he’s a million times worse now that he’s in the pros.
“Please,” Mads begs. “It’s really good money. And Sam knows what’s expected of him and what’s at stake. I’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior.” By the way she hesitates, I can tell she isn’t convinced by her own words.
I roll my eyes, more irritated at myself for considering this than I am at Mads for suggesting it.
“You’d be perfect for this,” she persuades. “I know you won’t put up with his shit. And you’d make enough to be able to focus on your art for months after the job is done. You could take your time finding another job after that. There’s not really a downside …”
“Yeah, I just have to give up my entire life and all my free time. Oh, and I’ll be forced to be around Sam twenty-four/seven for eight or nine months. And live with him.” My words reek with sarcasm.
“Did I mention you’ll be paid really well? And you get to travel for free …” She’s pleading with me with her ocean eyes.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, holding up a hand when she gets excited. “I’m not saying yes.”
“Yet,” she says confidently.
We move on, but the offer sits there, lingering in the space between us. By the end of the night, the wine has created a flush across my face and chest. Or maybe it’s the conversation that’s doing it.
In the end, I relent. I point at Madison. “I’m coming for you, friend , when this all blows up in my face.”
“That sounds like you’re leaning toward yes,” she practically squeals.
I roll my eyes as Suki and Oakley laugh at both of us.
I turn toward them. “And you two are supposed to be my friends …”
Suki leans in and hugs me. “Getting paid to babysit a hot hockey player, traveling with even more hockey players for a few months, and making bank, doing it … sounds like a sweet deal to me.”
“Have you met Sam?” I snark.
“No,” she admits. “But you can handle anyone.”
“I second that.” Mads throws her two cents in.
“Take your time and think about it,” Oakley says, always the voice of reason.
I exhale loudly and rise to my feet. “I need more wine!”
We open two more bottles and polish those off in the next hour. And I blame the alcohol buzz for agreeing to the job before they leave, knowing I can claim temporary insanity if this all blows up in my face over the next few weeks.
Desperate times …