I walk over to his register, noticing on my way that the customer already has his cell phone out recording. It’s crazy how many people record themselves complaining about our service, sure they’re going to become Twitter famous.
“Hi, can I help you?” I offer.
“Are you Lindy Boring?” a woman next to the guy with the cell phone asks.
“Yes.”
“Multiple sources tell us you’re dating Victor Lane, is it true?”
Craig gives me an incredulous look and I flush deep red from head to toe.
“Um…I’m working right now,” I say.
“Oh, I know, I don’t need long. I’ve already got footage of you working. I just want a comment about how a woman working in Concessions became the girlfriend of a Blaze player. Did he order food from you?”
“No.”
“She gave him some hockey advice to help improve his game,” Ari says from behind me.
I give her a wide-eyed look of horror and she cringes.
“Sorry, was I not supposed to say anything?”
“Come on,” the female reporter urges. “I really want to tell this Cinderella story for our readers.”
“I’m working.” I give her a pleading look, just wanting her to go away. “I can’t talk now.”
“Okay, later? We can wait until after the game.”
“No, I—”
“What’s going on here?” Bruce interjects.
“She’s dating Victor Lane and we want to share this great story with our readers!” The woman offers her hand to Bruce for a shake. “Are you her boss? I’d love to interview you on camera, too.”
Bruce’s expression is a cross between shocked and annoyed.
“I’d love for you to get out of the way so my customers can order,” he says crossly. “Either order or get out of my line.”
“Lindy, are you in love with Victor?” the woman asks me, undeterred.
Bruce scowls at me. “Boring, I’m gonna have you work on stock in the back so we can get this circus out of here.”
I’m out of there as fast as my feet will take me. I breathe out a sigh of relief when I get to the supply room, grateful to be out of the spotlight.
I never anticipated anything like this. Victor and I are in such a good place since he shared his past with me. We’re getting closer in every possible way. The last thing I want is a spectacle being made about the fact he’s dating a concession worker. I may not be super successful, but I’m offended by the “Cinderella” label.
I turn on the TV in the main stock room, listening to the game as I unload supplies, break down boxes and organize food items into groups. I do my own silent celebration when the Blaze win 4-3 thanks to a last-minute goal by Luca.
Thinking about Victor, celebrating with his team, all hot and sweaty, causes a fluttering sensation in my stomach as I imagine getting sweaty with him. He’s transforming me from an ambivalent virgin to a bitch in heat.
Since he shared his past with me, I feel closer to Victor than I’ve ever been to anyone. I want to be his shelter when he’s hurting. His peace when life is chaotic. We started as friends, but what we have now is so much more.
Bruce comes into the stock room, glaring at me, his clipboard held under one arm.
“I can’t believe that you, of all people, would do this, Boring.” He shakes his head with disappointment.
“I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t know they were going to be here.”
He narrows his eyes. “Uh huh. Figured you could just keep your little secret forever, I guess?”
“It’s not a secret.”
“So you are, in fact, dating Victor Lane?”
“I…yeah, I am. Why does that matter?”
“I can’t imagine how you pulled that off,” he grumbles, looking at his clipboard.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.”
I cross my arms. “I think I don’t.”
He looks up at me with an agitated expression. “Anyway, you’re suspended.”
“Suspended?” My mouth gapes open in shock.
The stock room door starts to open and Bruce barks, “Not right now!”
The door closes and he turns back to me. “Fraternizing with other employees is against company policy. It’s in the handbook.”
“Are you kidding me? I work in Concessions, not the front office.”
“I don’t make the rules, Boring, I just enforce them. I’ll cover your shifts so you don’t need to worry about that. I’m gonna file the necessary paperwork with HR and someone will be in touch.”
I drop into the closest chair, too stunned to speak.
“Obviously, this is an unpaid suspension,” Bruce says. He flips several pages on his clipboard. “I just need you to sign this form stating that you understand the terms and conditions of your suspension.”
My head is swimming. I know this isn’t the most amazing job or anything, but it’s my job. I never even imagined that dating Victor could get me suspended or, apparently, fired.
Bruce sets the clipboard down in front of me. “If you’ll just sign here, and—”
“I’m not signing anything.”
He hikes his brows up in surprise. I’ve never said no to Bruce. In all the years I’ve worked here, I’ve been a diligent employee who put up with his bullshit. But not this time.
“I’ll need to ask you to leave the premises immediately, then.”
“Gladly.” I walk to the break room, open my locker and get my handbag and coat, then walk out without looking back.
My face is on fire, but this time it’s from anger, not embarrassment. That quickly changes, though, when a group of people, some holding video cameras, start running toward me.
I turn in the other direction and run, not caring where I’m actually going. The arena is huge and I just need to find a place to lay low.
“We just want to ask you about you and Victor!” a woman yells.
The first restricted area I pass is a Level 3—too high for my badge clearance. I keep running, the pounding of footsteps on my trail getting louder.
As soon as I see the Level 2 area, I grab the badge hanging around my neck and scan it, shutting the door closed behind me. Thank you Bruce for forgetting to confiscate my badge.
“Oh, hey Lindy.” Manny pulls his finger out of his nose and grins at me.
Ugh.
“Hey,” I say, breathing hard from running.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I pull out my phone and text Victor.
Me: I’m hiding in a cleaning supply room. Reporters are after me. And I’m suspended from my job so I’m probably not even supposed to be here.
He doesn’t text back immediately. I look around the room, trying to find an exit.
“Are there any other doors to this room?” I ask Manny.
“Nope. There’s a vent.” He points at a vent cover on the wall.
“Uh, no.”
“Is someone waiting for you out there?”
I look at the door. “Probably.”
“You want me to go tell ‘em to leave?”
“No!”
I don’t want to be alone in this room with Manny, but I also don’t want to go back out there.
“You want some Mountain Dew?” He offers me a bottle of soda from the pocket of his navy work jumpsuit.
“I’m good, thanks.”
“You’re really pretty.”
Oh God. Why here? Why him? I try to smile.
“Thanks.”
My phone buzzes with an incoming text and I look down to see a message from Victor.
Victor: Where are you? I’ll come get you.
Me: No! The reporters will mob us.
Victor: Okay, I’ll send security. Where are you?
Me: Uh…second floor, by the place that sells huge pretzels.
Victor: Sit tight babe, I’ll get someone there soon.
&nbs
p; Manny walks over to a small mirror hanging on the wall, gets out a comb and starts combing his slicked-back black hair.
“So…are you off?” he asks me.
“Yeah.”
I put my coat on, wanting to cover every inch of skin I can.
“I’m off at 2:00 a.m.,” he says. “Want to hang out at my place after that?”
“Oh, I can’t. I’ve got plans with my boyfriend.”
His expression falls with disappointment. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
“Yeah, it’s a new thing.”
There’s a beep outside the door as someone scans their key card. When the door opens, a security guard steps inside the room, another one right behind him.
“Lindy?” he asks me.
I nod, relieved.
The guards lead me from the room, blocking the reporters with their arms out. I keep my head down to avoid the cameras and any recording devices.
We enter a Level 5 elevator, which takes us down to a long tunnel with a concrete floor. We walk past a few people with Level 5 badges on, and when we round a corner I see Victor, dressed in a dark suit.
“Hey,” he says, opening his arms to me.
I practically fall into his arms, the events of the past hour fading as he hugs me.
“What’s this about you being suspended?” he asks.
I look up at him. “Because of us.”
His gaze darkens. “Are you serious?”
“My boss said it’s against policy.”
“Fuck him. We’ll get this taken care of, I promise.”
I sigh softly. “What about the reporters? I don’t know how they found out.”
“So what if they know? Fuck them, too.”
“I’m just…not sure how to handle all this.”
Victor cups my cheeks and kisses my forehead. “It’ll be okay. Let’s get out of here and we can talk about it then.”
I nod, wanting nothing more than to escape with him right now. But as he leads me past the other people waiting in the hallway, I hear snickers and whispers.
“That’s her?”
“She’s not even pretty.”
“Yeah, Boring seems about right.”
Victor hears them, too. He glares at them and squeezes my hand. I burn with humiliation, knowing that the news about us is out. This is only the start of people questioning why Victor Lane would ever choose me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Victor
* * *
“That’s seriously how you guys met?” Lorraine, the head of Blaze Public Relations, has her hand over her heart as she listens to me and Lindy tell her our story.
“Yeah, that’s how we met.” I give Lindy’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Wow.” Lorraine looks back and forth between us. “So that’s what your friend meant when she said you gave him hockey advice?”
Lindy nods. “I’m a lifelong Blaze fan.”
“I love it.” Lorraine grins. “Tell you what, guys, I have lots of thoughts.”
Lindy and I have been in meetings with people from the team’s front office and PR department since first thing this morning. I’m actually missing practice right now. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I take it out to check the text.
The message is from Bryan.
Price of silence just went up to 100k. You’ve got until midnight.
I show no outward reaction, but inside I’m losing my shit. A hundred fucking grand? His balls keep getting bigger every day. The miserable fuck is probably dead broke, jonesing for his next high while I’m busy earning the money for it.
“First of all, Lindy, as HR said, you’re not in any trouble. That’s an old policy that still exists, but it’s not enforced. And Victor isn’t technically an employee of the Carson Center, so it wouldn’t matter even if we did enforce it.”
Lindy nods, visibly more relaxed than she was earlier.
“With your permission, I’d like to release your story,” Lorraine continues. “We’ll do it our way, with our own photos and quotes you get to approve. Nothing huge, just a nice little splash on our social media page that news networks can share. How does that sound?”
I nod, but Lindy’s expression is grim.
“You don’t want to, babe?” I ask her.
“I just…don’t like attention. I’m not used to it.”
Lorraine says, “Hon, you’ll have to get used to some attention. You’re dating a pro hockey player. If we do it this way, the reporters and photographers will stop hounding you. This is our way of heading them off at the pass.”
“I get that,” Lindy says, still looking reluctant. “But how do you guys handle all the comments on social media?”
Lorraine looks confused. “We respond and say thank you to at least some of them.”
“What about the comments that I’m not pretty enough? Or that Boring is a fitting name for me?”
Lorraine turns to me, her jaw dropped.
“There will always be dicks out there, babe,” I say. “Fuck them. You’re beautiful.”
She gives me a grateful smile. “You know what I mean. That reporter from the concession stand that night called me Cinderella. That’s what so many people will see when they look at us—a poor girl rescued by a handsome prince.”
“I think you’ll be surprised,” Lorraine says. “You’re a lovely girl.” She quickly corrects herself. “Woman—sorry. We fifty-somethings think of twenty-somethings as girls. Lindy, you’re totally the girl next door. People are going to love this story.”
I squeeze Lindy’s hand again. “Lorraine’s never steered me wrong. Will you trust her judgment on this one?”
She nods. “I trust you, so if you trust her…I’m in.”
“Perfect.” Lorraine pushes something aside on her untidy desk. “And Lindy, there’s one more thing…you know a lot about hockey, right?”
“Kind of.”
I nudge her gently. “You know a lot, babe. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Well,” Lorraine says, “you are of course welcome to say no and go back to Concessions, but I would like to offer you a job.”
“Me?” Lindy’s eyes widen in surprise.
“I’ve got an opening for an assistant. I’ll teach you anything you don’t know. One of your jobs would be to explain the sport to any VIPs who attend games, but don’t have much knowledge of hockey.”
“She’d be great at that,” I say.
“It does sound like fun,” Lindy says, “but are you sure? You don’t need to interview anyone else?”
“I just found out I’m losing my assistant yesterday,” Lorraine says. “This could be a perfect fit for both of us.”
“Wow, I don’t know what to say. That’s so generous of you.”
Lorraine smiles. “I know you probably need time to think it over. Why don’t you come by in a few days and I’ll have a formal offer ready for you then?”
“I’d love to.”
We wrap up with Lorraine and I walk Lindy out to the parking lot, offering her my keys to drive herself home.
“I’ll take the El,” she says, waving me off.
“No, seriously, take it. I can get a ride home with one of the guys.”
She smiles and leans up on her toes to kiss me. “I haven’t driven a car in a long time. I’m a city girl. I’ll take the El. Text me later.”
“Hey,” I say, still feeling the warmth of her lips as the wind blows around us, “I’m kind of crazy about you, you know?”
“Yeah? Ditto.”
I kiss her one more time. “I’m going to see Jonah this afternoon. Want to meet up for dinner later?”
“That sounds great. Tell Jonah I’m thinking of him.”
“I will.”
Our third kiss becomes our last as I kiss her again.
Jonah’s house is at the end of a suburban cul-de-sac, the long driveway leading to a secluded two-story, brick home surrounded by tall locust trees.
Lily found this house while we were on a
road trip and excitedly FaceTimed Jonah to show it to him. It was everything they’d been shopping for, with six bedrooms—plenty of space for future children and overnight guests. He told her to put in an offer then and there.
It has to be hell living here now, with every room a reminder of what he lost. When he opens the front door, though, he looks better than he did at the funeral.
He smiles and hugs me immediately.
“Hey, man. I’m so glad you came by,” he says.
“I’ve been thinking of you and wanted to come by and visit, but I actually came to ask your advice on something,” I say sheepishly.
“Perfect. Anything to take my mind off of things. Come on in.”
I step inside and follow Jonah into the sunny kitchen, light reflecting off the white cabinets and gray quartz countertops.
“Water or beer?” he offers.
“Water would be good, thanks.”
We both twist the caps off bottles of water and I ask him how he’s doing.
“I’m okay,” he says, shrugging. “Planning to come back next week, I think.”
“Great. We’ve really missed you.”
He nods. “I need something to do with myself. The hardest times are when I’m just alone here with the memories.”
“Is it hard being here in the house?”
“Depends what day you ask me.” He smiles sadly. “Sometimes it’s overwhelming. Other times, it’s all I have left of her and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“She was the best of the best, Jonah. I’m so sorry she’s gone.”
Tears well in his eyes. “Thanks, man.” He clears his throat. “Now tell me what’s going on with you. How bad can things be if you need advice from a sad bastard like me?”
“Fairly bad,” I concede, grinning. “Lindy says hello, by the way.”
He turns serious. “I like her, Vic. So did Lily. Don’t fuck it up.”
“I’m doing my best.”
“Good.”
“I guess that’s…sort of what led me here.”
“Let’s go sit down.”
Jonah leads the way to his study, which is really just a man cave full of hockey memorabilia and too much leather furniture. He sits down on a navy sofa, and I take a seat on the matching one across from it.
Victor Page 14
