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“Hockey,” I blurt out, already regretting this, since it will mean I owe my brother for the half-assed idea he accidentally pitched as a joke. “What about hockey?”
Gia is visibly confused. “What?”
“My brother plays for the Druids, well, not at the moment, since he’s on medical leave for a fractured ulna—dumbass decided to try figure skating while drinking—but regardless, I have an in with the team.”
“And you think that will get us views?”
“I mean…I could chuck a rock on the sidewalk and hit at least three hockey fans in this city. Get one of my brother’s teammates on here in their gear? A big hockey player making little pastries? People would eat that shit up. No pun intended.”
She arches her brow. “It’s not…a terrible idea. Bad puns aside.”
“I hate to admit it, since it was technically a rambling from my brother I brushed off, but it might be a great idea. Even if it’s just for one special. Training camp is about to start for the new season, so it would be great buzz for the both of us. At least, that’s what we’re going to tell their PR team.”
“And you really think they’ll agree to this?”
I think of the hundred or more favors that Jack owes me from the years of saving his dumb ass from one stupid thing or another, smirking. “I have a good feeling.”
“Hm.” Gia chews on the inside of her lip as she mulls it over, tilting her head back and forth in thought. “I mean…I’ll have to run it by our PR team, but…I like it. I think it could be what we’re looking for.”
Relief floods my chest, knowing that this isn’t a permanent solution, but at least it will give me more time to figure something out that will help long-term. Gia is already grabbing for her desk phone and punching in numbers, and I let myself relax just a little in my chair, feeling marginally better, at least. Even if I’m already regretting my brother’s big fat I told you so.
Man, Theo is going to have a lot to say about this.
Two
IAN
Former Druids player Ian Chase was rumored to have attended the wedding ceremony of his ex-wife, now Mei Garcia, last week, fueling speculation about whether or not Chase is trying to win Mei back. People will remember the disastrous divorce between Chase and Garcia, ending what the media dubbed Boston’s “fairy-tale romance” between an NHL legacy player’s son and an up-and-coming artist. Mei Garcia, contemporary artist seen at galleries like Canvas and Interior Mosaic, offered no comment on Chase’s attendance. Six years ago, photos of Chase and a mystery woman circulated social media when the couple were freshly separated, sparking rumors that the hockey star and his wife ended things because of unsavory—
I shove my laptop away, grinding my teeth. Six years. Six fucking years of this shit trailing after me, finding me no matter how far I run. I’ve long learned the lesson firsthand that anything on the internet stays there forever.
“I told you not to look,” Mei says gently from the other end of the phone that I’m gripping too tightly against my ear.
“Yeah, well,” I huff. “I’ve never been very smart.”
“Shut up,” she chides. “We both know they don’t know the whole story. You should have let me make a statement.”
“No.” I scrub a hand down my face, my stubble scratching against my palm. It’s gotten too long in the last few weeks. “You’re on your honeymoon. You shouldn’t be worried about my bullshit. Besides, they didn’t believe you when you defended me last time, so why would this time be any different?”
“I just don’t understand why they’re dragging things back out,” she says. “It’s been years. Don’t they have better things to talk about?”
“Who knows,” I muse. “Maybe it’s because I’m coming back home. Maybe it’s because you got remarried. People love bringing up old shit. I probably shouldn’t have come to the wedding.”
“Oh, fuck that,” she scoffs. “There was no way you were missing my wedding.”
“Yeah, well, now they’re turning your big day into a circus.” I raise a hand to flag down the flight attendant, needing a drink if I’m going to keep from coming out of my skin while we wait for them to clear the plane to leave the tarmac. Because a delay is just what I needed today. “How is Bella, by the way? Still a dick?”
“I heard that, you asshole,” Bella’s voice chimes. “You’re on speaker.”
“Oh no, now you’ll think we can’t be friends,” I chuckle.
“You wish your friends were as cool as me,” she tosses back.
It’s true, if I’m being honest. Isabella Garcia is cool as hell. As far as people hooking up with your ex-wife, I really couldn’t have asked for better. Even if I do enjoy giving her shit. Thankfully, she gives as good as she gets.
“How is Fiji?”
“Hot,” Mei complains. “I’m going to look like a tomato when I get home.”
