Chapter 11 Boone
Her lips curve up at the corners slightly. “It was… a lot of fun.”
I rest back in my seat. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“I have to admit, I watched a few of your games online over the past three days to prepare myself for tonight.”
“And?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“You’re an incredible athlete,” she says simply, her eyes meeting mine. “I can see why you’ve been named top forward center for the last five years in a row and why you’re the highest scorer on your team. When you’re on the ice, it’s fluid. Like you’re breathing.”
I sit back, a satisfied smile on my face. She’s done her homework, even if it’s just to feel prepared when she talks to the other WAGs about my career and the game.
I’m impressed though I shouldn’t be surprised. Rosie doesn’t seem like she would ever do anything half-way.
I also like knowing that she was up watching videos of me at night.
“Did Cassie and Jill give you any grief?”
“No, they were surprisingly accepting.”
That doesn’t shock me in the least. Ty and Lochlan are some of the best guys on the team, and their wives, Cassie and Jill, are equally solid. They’ve created a culture where kindness and loyalty come first, unlike the puck bunnies, who are a whole different story.
But something in Rosie’s reaction and response tells me she wasn’t expecting that level of warmth from them.
“Good,” I say, leaning forward slightly. “They’re good people.”
Her expression softens a bit, but she doesn’t say anything, just glances out at the restaurant as if lost in thought. I can’t help but wonder what’s going on behind those soft, scared eyes of hers and why she’s so bent on staying closed off.
“They asked about our marriage, I assume?”
She nods. “Yeah. I kept the details to a minimum, but I get the sense that their husbands will be blowing up your phone soon.”
“I already saw a few texts from them on the ride over here.”
“I hope it’s not too painful for you repeat our made-up story.”
“I hate lying to them, but it’s just for three months.”
She falls quiet, her smile polite but distant. She may be all confidence in the boardroom, but she doesn’t know how to handle a casual conversation.
I wonder when the last time was that she was in a real relationship—or hell, wait a minute. What if she’s currently dating someone who had to agree to all of this and that’s why she’s uncomfortable and politely trying to keep me at arm’s length?
The thought churns in my gut for a moment before I shove it aside, remembering her at the strip club ten nights ago, or what I think was her.
There's no way she'd be in a committed relationship and hanging out in New Jersey at a club alone.
“So... got any questions for me about my career?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I studied your stats. I know how you rose to fame and joined the Mayhem. I feel confident I’ve got the highlights covered if anyone asks.”
“Just the highlights maybe, but what about the secret stuff that a wife would know about her husband that no one else does?”
She smiles faintly. “I learned in law school that it’s the things you don’t think will matter that end up causing you to lose a case. With that said, this is more about repairing your reputation and not about a surprise pop quiz.”
“I see. Well then how about we talk about you since I haven’t done my research on Rosie Prescott. How’d you end up a lawyer?”
She presses her lips together thoughtfully as our server drops off our drinks. I can see her deciding how much to tell me, weighing what she’s willing to reveal and what she wants to keep locked up in the mystery that is her.
She sips her wine then starts. “My mother left my father, brother and me when we were young. She left for another man she’d fallen in love with while acting and moved to Europe.
We haven’t seen her since. She was a famous actress when we were kids.
At the time, my father was already an accomplished criminal lawyer.
When she left, he’d switched to entertainment law in some masochistic way of remembering her.
” She says it all so simply as if she’s detached from the story that shaped her.
Damn, your mother leaving you as a child when you needed her most must not have been easy.
“He opened his own firm and took a wild gamble on himself. Social media was just starting to blow up back then. He chose up-and-coming artists from Myspace and rising D list actors and actresses. Eventually, it took off and the rest is history.”
“That was quite a gamble.”
She nods. “He was a single father who raised Cain and I strictly and with the knowledge that someday, we’d be taking over his business. There were rules for everything. No room to step out of line or experiment. Law school wasn’t optional. It was always expected.”
“Explains the way he spoke to both of you during our meeting.”
She lets out a tiny huff. “Oh, you hardly saw anything.”
“And what else did you do? Outside of never breaking any rules and always knowing you’d become a lawyer when you were older?”
She pauses to take a sip of her wine, then dabs her lips delicately with the white, silk napkin.
“I took ballet. I think Dad thought that the discipline would help me with school, and it did. I carried that discipline into my AP classes, graduated as valedictorian from a prestigious high school in New York, and went on to Harvard Law. Graduated at the top of my class. Stepped into a role at my father’s firm a few years ago. Now I’m a junior partner.”
She says it all so matter-of-factly, like it’s nothing but that’s a hell of a lot of accomplishments for someone so young. It also tells me absolutely nothing about who she really is outside of degrees, titles and accolades.
“And do you enjoy it?” I ask, studying her closely.
Her lips curve faintly again. “It’s all I’ve ever known.”
That’s not an answer.
“I think I do. I’m not good at much else.
But law, presenting in a courtroom, representing my clients, finding legal loopholes to keep them out of trouble, or preventing them from getting into it in the first place?
That, I’m good at. And it feels nice to be good at something and appreciated for it.
It feels nice to receive recognition, don’t you think? ”
I nod. “I understand. I feel that way about hockey.”
“Exactly.”
“But I’m sure you’re good at other things too.” Like, pole dancing. The ballet lessons explain her dance routine and flexibility too.
She smiles lightly before taking another sip of her wine. “Not really. I don’t have free time. The little I do have I spend working pro-bono cases.”
That has me sitting forward in my chair. “Really?”
She nods. “Cain and I have connected with a few legal aid organizations in the city, and I’ve recently partnered with the Manhattan women’s shelter. I find those cases to be the most meaningful.”
“That’s fucking cool.”
Her smile turns genuine, and I can tell this work is important to her even if she’s trying to downplay it.
“It can be challenging… it’s not entertainment law so there are aspects of the cases that keep my other legal knowledge sharp, too.”
“I bet you’re good at it.” I bet she’s amazing at it.
She squirms like that compliment makes her uncomfortable. “Your whole family’s full of athletes, huh?” she asks, ignoring my comment and bringing the conversation back to me again.
I don’t want to talk about me anymore. I want to talk about her and all the amazing things she does, but I can tell that’s not what she wants to focus on.
“I see you’ve read up on my brothers.”
“Have they called you yet? Or your mom? About... you know, us?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure. I haven’t checked my phone since the car ride over. Do you think the pictures are already online?”
“Definitely.”
Jeez, their firm works fast.
“What will you tell them about us?” she asks, eyeing me curiously.
I rake a hand through my still slightly damp, wet hair as I think about what I’ll tell my family.
This all happened so quickly. Getting dropped by the team’s law firm and PR rep to hiring the Prescott’s in a matter of days didn’t give me a chance to think about prepping my family for my new arranged marriage.
“I think I’ll tell them I met a girl who rocked my world so much I didn’t have the time to introduce her before I just had to marry her.”
She smiles and snorts then covers her face as her eyes widen. The first real smile I’ve gotten out of her all night. “Sorry.”
I laugh. “Don’t be sorry. That was cute.”
That blush from the club reappears, creeping up her chest and neck until it’s in her cheeks.
She likes it when I call her cute. Noted.
“It’s just… that feels like a believable story for you,” she says with a small smile.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs lightly. “I don’t know. I guess I just get the sense that you could be the kind of guy who meets a girl once, falls in love at first sight, and doesn’t even get the chance to introduce her to your teammates or family because you’re so in love you just have to marry her immediately.
It sounds like something spontaneous that you’d do. I’m nothing like that.”
I sit back in my chair, her words sinking in. Innocent enough in their meaning, but damn—she might have just read right through me.
With Anastasia, it’d been months of dating, followed by a long, drawn-out engagement before I ended things. And for the record, despite what the media said, and whatever stories she fed them, it was me who cut the cord and ended things.
I knew when I knew that she wasn’t the one and it was easy to let her go at that point.
I guess I am the type of guy to fall in love hard and fast and know when I know. I trust my gut on every matter in life, including relationships.
So why hadn’t it been that way with Anastasia? Why hadn’t I immediately wanted to marry her the moment that we met? Maybe because it had never been easy.
I’m not saying things with Rosie would be, but they already feel simpler, despite being fake, than things had ever felt with my ex.