Coach snorts, shaking his head. “You know you can’t just miss a game because you’re running off across the country for a woman.”
“Not just any woman,” I correct him. “It’s Brooke, and regardless of the fact she’s your daughter, I’ve fallen in love with her and she actually takes precedence over hockey right now.”
The corners of Coach’s mouth curve, way up high, splitting his mouth into a wide, beaming grin. Satisfaction, pride, and relief shine in his eyes. “Then you better get over to the commercial terminal and book a flight,” he says.
“On it,” I tell him, sticking my hand out. He shakes it firmly, but with an underlying current of gratitude. “See you Saturday.”
I follow Coach to the private terminal, all the other passengers having deplaned. When we reach the doors, I’m stunned to see Dominik Carlson standing just inside. He nods at Coach Perron as he opens the door for us, but his eyes are pinned on me.
Coach walks past him and I stop after I clear the entryway. He lets the door swing shut and sticks a hand out to me, “Dominik Carlson.”
“Pleasure,” I say with a quick handshake. I’d ordinarily be more gregarious and even solicitous of the man who signs my paycheck, but I’m sort of in a hurry and have more important things to worry about.
“I have something for you,” he says, and reaches into his pocket. He places my mom’s engagement ring in the palm of my hand, and my heart clenches painfully. I know it didn’t represent a real engagement, but the fact that Brooke left it behind hurts.
I have no words, so I just grip it in my hand and mutter, “Thank you.”
“She’s torn up,” Dominik says, and I’m stunned he would know something about Brooke’s personal emotions.
“What do you mean?” I ask a little aggressively, but I don’t like the intimate way he seems to know her.
“Thinks this entire fucking fiasco sits squarely on her shoulders,” he says with a shrug. “That’s why she ran to New York. It’s not because she doesn’t want you.”
“She told you that?” I ask in surprise.
“No, but I could tell. She only left that ring behind because she wanted it returned safely to your mother.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I think you should head to New York and go after her,” he says smoothly. “She wanted to give her resignation yesterday, but I refused it. Asked her to think about it. Her job’s waiting, so I think you should go get her.”
“That was already my intention. I was heading over to commercial to book the first flight out.”
Dominik shakes his head. “I’m going to be staying here for a few days to get things settled down. Take my plane.”
“The team plane?” I ask with astonishment.
He shakes his head again and jerks his chin at something behind me. I turn and look to see a shiny, sleek Gulfstream G550 sitting on the tarmac. “My other plane,” he says.
Yeah, sure…his other plane.
Be glad to.Chapter 32BrookeIt’s absolutely perfect.
A brisk fifty-five degrees out that’s not cold at all with the light jacket I’m wearing and the way I’m warmed from the stroll I’d taken through Washington Square Park. The west entrance is a mere two blocks from Elizabeth’s apartment, and there’s a fantastic bakery on the way where I picked up a coffee and croissant.
Horns honking, construction noise, and the endless throng of New Yorkers beating the sidewalks.
I really, really missed this.
Granted, not as much as I miss Bishop right now, but it’s a close second.
Well…third. I miss my dad a lot too.
This was the right thing to do, though. After I’d given every last drop of information I had to Dominik and Fred, I knew that I needed time, distance, and a familiar setting to help me make sense of just how screwed up things have gotten.
Elizabeth is my former boss at the magazine, and she graciously let me crash on her couch. She has an awesome apartment, but it’s only 550 square feet and all she could offer me was a couch.
It was enough.
It’s been so nice to see her again, and she’s given me such refuge. Of course I filled her in on every sordid detail of what’s been going on in my crazy life, even admitting to my deepened feelings for Bishop. She wasn’t surprised in the slightest by Nanette’s psycho ways, and told me that she was fired for bizarre behavior and sleeping with, well, most of the men in the office. Totally doesn’t surprise me. Nanette told me she’d quit, but in hindsight knowing what I know now about her craziness, of course she was fired.
Elizabeth is at work, and though she desperately tried to get me to come in and hang with her today—no doubt to tempt me right back into my position by her side—I needed some time alone to think.