by Kristen Echo
“Gwen—”
“Thank you.” She hugged him hard.
Sparks flew. She felt the fires licking every inch where they connected. It reminded her of the first time they’d met. It had been every bit as consuming.
Damn.
The intense connection she’d always felt around him returned. He wrapped her in his arms and held her close. It seemed intimate. Gwen suddenly second guessed her actions. She pulled away and shuffled backwards two steps towards the door. No more hesitations.
“Goodbye,” she said, licking her dry lips.
“Until we meet again,” he replied. “It won’t be two decades. I promise you that much.” He nodded then turned and sauntered out of sight.
Gwen pressed her hand over her smiling lips. Maybe things were turning around. Then again, she’d trusted him before. She knew better than to expect anything from him but disappointment. Too bad.
CHAPTER THREE
A n elbow nudged her side. The double bed in Cherie’s guest room was more comfortable than Gwen had expected. She ignored the jab and snuggled closer to her daughter. Once she opened her eyes, the day would begin. Dealing with her sister was unavoidable, yet she was in no rush for confrontation.
After leaving the condo last night, Gwen had gone for an extra-long walk. She’d purposefully taken her time. The last thing she’d wanted was to see Spencer again. Though she had wanted to ask her sister about why he was there. Her sister was not a hockey fan. Something felt off about the entire encounter. Unfortunately, by the time she’d returned, Cherie had already gone to bed.
“Mom, it’s too early to cuddle,” Westlyn croaked. Her voice still laced with sleep as she tried to wriggle away.
“Never too early.” She loosened her arms but remained glued to her daughter’s side. The bed was small, but they fit. It reminded her of when her little girl was much younger and the countless nights they’d snuggled. Wes always had her own bed yet preferred to sleep with her mom. Gwen missed those days. “Are you still tired?”
The teenager rolled onto her back, forcing her mother to the edge. “I don’t know. What time is it?”
Sunshine greeted Gwen as she opened her eyes. She’d forgotten to close the drapes before crawling into bed. The light poured into the room.
“It’s pretty bright,” she said. Lifting her head, she spotted the clock across the room perched on top of the dresser. The time confirmed a new day was upon them. “It’s early morning,” she confirmed.
Her daughter groaned and pulled the blankets over her head. “I’m not ready to get out of bed. You said this was summer vacation. Unless you were lying, I’m allowed to sleep in. Right?”
She laughed, letting her head hit the pillow anew. “Sure. Go back to sleep. I should get up and talk to your aunt.”
“Thanks. Try to make up. If you can, be nice to her,” Wes added.
Gwen inhaled sharply. “I’m always nice.” That was part of her problem. People used her kindness against her. She huffed, rolled out of bed and rummaged on the floor for her shorts.
“Let me rephrase,” Westlyn said from under the covers. “Tell her what she wants to hear to end the fight. You’re always telling me to be the bigger person, regardless of who did what wrong. She’s the only family we have. I don’t think our surprise visit is a welcome one.”
Sliding the denim onto her legs, she smiled at her daughter. “You’re a wise one.” She leaned over and kissed the blanket covering Westlyn’s forehead. “I’ll do my best to make things right. Don’t worry about us. I love you and get up whenever you’re ready.”
Mumbles followed, but nothing decipherable. Gwen zipped her shorts, tucked in her pajama top and tied her wild mane into a messy bun before leaving the room. Once in the hall, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lured her towards the kitchen.
Her sister sat at the island with a laptop open in front of her. She was already dressed for the day, wearing a fancy sleeveless top and pin striped skirt. The pumps on her feet made Gwen wonder if the woman ever relaxed.
“You walk like an elephant,” Cherie said without looking over her shoulder. “If you were trying to sneak up on me, you need to be much lighter on your feet.”
Gwen laughed. That was something her mother used to tell her when she was younger. “You sound just like her. You know?”
The similarities between mother and daughter were too numerous to count. Cherie had the same pale complexion, light green eyes and lithe stature. Gwen favored their father with his tanned skin tone, dark hair and curves. She also took his genetics for height and towered over her sister.
“I can’t remember her voice,” Cherie replied. The comment caught her off guard since they rarely talked about their mother.
One minor fender bender during Gwen’s senior year had changed everything. Gwen had been driving with her mother when another car hit them. It wasn’t her fault, but Cherie blamed her for their mother becoming ill. It wasn’t cancer or some incurable disease that took her life too soon. Their mother had become addicted to pain killers and quickly advanced to heroin. Less than a year following the accident, she was dead.
Cherie cleared her throat. “Mugs are above the coffee maker. Help yourself.”
“Thanks,” she said and grabbed a cup. Steam rose as she poured the coffee into the plain, white mug. Gwen inhaled the aromatic fragrance, drawing strength from the familiar brew. “If you ever want to talk about her or dad, we could.”
Her senior year had been far from normal. As the eldest daughter, Gwen had postponed college to help around the house and take her mother to treatments, but nothing worked. Before the addiction, the girls had been closer. A lot changed that year, and nothing was ever the same afterwards.
“They’d probably be happy for us to talk and remember them,” she continued. “Reminisce about old—”
“I don’t live in the past. My life is too hectic to look backwards.” Cherie closed the laptop. “Maybe if you spent a little more time focusing on the future, you wouldn’t find yourself in these messes. Always relying on others to bail you out. If anyone is like her, it’s you.”
It wasn’t meant as a compliment. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll keep your suggestion in mind.”
“Please do,” Cherie replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Cream is in the fridge.”
“Black is good. I hope you slept well.” She joined her at the island. The way the light hit the surface made it look like crushed diamonds were imbedded into the stone.
“I slept fine.”
Standing across from her sister, she set the cup down. “I had hoped you’d still be awake when I got back from my walk. Guess you were tired. Um… I’ll bet you’ve got questions and I do too.”
“What I have is a full day ahead.” Cherie adjusted the collar of her pale pink blouse. “I won’t be home until late.”
“But it’s the weekend,” she countered.
Her sister scoffed. “Maybe for some. I have a meeting at the office. People are expecting me. How long are you and Wes planning to stay?”
“In Winnipeg, maybe permanently. Time will tell. With you, I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
The stool screeched against the tile as Cherie pushed away from the glittering counter. “I have to go.”
Gwen closed her eyes. “Before you go, can you tell me why was my… I mean why was Spencer here last night? When did you two start talking?”
“I don’t have time for this.” Cherie pushed her stool out of the way and marched towards the sink.
It was one of those farmhouse sinks that Gwen loved. The kitchen was modern but not overly big. It was Gwen’s favorite room in the condo. Cherie poured out the rest of her coffee and rinsed the cup before putting it in the dishwasher.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to fill in all the details. I’m curious when you bumped into my ex. You said nothing last time we talked.” She tugged on a thread from her shorts. “Does he work at your firm or something?”
; “Spencer Northcote doesn’t work for anyone,” she answered. “Why do you care? You two dated a million years ago.”
This was true but seeing him had brought back all the old feelings. The good and the bad. Then there was his offer to help, and she wondered how he could do that. “Does he work in—”
“Stop fishing for information from me and look him up. Spencer owns half the city. Maybe even the country. There won’t be a shortage of articles.” Cherie shot her a look as if the entire world knew this.
“What do you mean he owns the city?”
“Google the man. He’s a self-made billionaire who gives a ton to charities. That’s how we… whatever. Like I said, I have to go.” She stomped out of the room without providing more details.
A billionaire?
Her sister had to be exaggerating. Gwen leaned on the counter, trying to reconcile the boy she knew with the man Cherie described. When they’d met, Spencer was a college kid with big dreams and a lot of ambition. His family had money. They’d lived in a nice house in an affluent neighborhood, but they weren’t millionaires. She reached over, spun the laptop around and opened it.
A quick search provided thousands of articles. Her sister was right. Spencer was a big deal. The top caption provided a picture of him holding the Stanley Cup. He owned an NHL team. An entire freaking team! Her eyes bugged out as she stared at his smiling face. His mouth was sinful. Perfect straight teeth surrounded by luscious, kissable lips. Damn, he was a good-looking man.
Exactly what the world needed, another rich asshole. She stuck her tongue out at the screen, pretending he could see her. Sex appeal and money didn’t change the fact he was still a jerk. She closed the search browser.
If she googled herself, there might be two results. The one time she ran the half-marathon, and a media press release she’d delivered for an addiction center’s grand opening the previous year. Her and Spencer were from two different worlds. One plus from the search was she no longer doubted he had connections in the city.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t need his help. He was the past and should stay there locked away as the first of many mistakes. She wanted nothing from him. With any luck, she’d be able to put him out of her mind and never see or think of him again. Her resume was filled with experience. Someone was bound to need her. Gwen opened a new webpage and hunted for work.
The morning flew by as she searched online. Only a handful of resumes and applications got submitted. There weren’t many places looking for help. It was discouraging, but she put on a brave face when her daughter finally emerged from the shower.
“What are we doing today?” Wes asked as she fastened her watch over the mark on her left wrist.
Gwen quickly looked away. “Anything you want. Well, as long as it doesn’t cost anything.”
“If we need money so bad, I could get a job. It’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t worry about it yet. I want you to concentrate on you. Relax for a little while. Wait till we find a place and have a permanent address. Don’t be in a rush to grow up,” she added with a faint smile.
Westlyn didn’t return the gesture. “I’m not a child who can’t help. Granted my savings from last summer are gone, but you can’t do everything.”
An exaggerated gasp escaped, and she clutched her chest. “Are you saying I’m no longer Super Mom?”
Her comment earned a giggle. No sweeter sound existed on the planet.
“You’re still my hero.” Wes plopped onto the stool next to her. “It’s important for me to make my own way too. I liked working at that daycare last summer and over winter break. I had planned to go back before…” Her eyes drifted towards her hands. She hid them under the counter and sighed. “We moved,” she finished.
“I’d rather you enjoy your last summer as a carefree kid. You’ll have plenty of time to help out and be a responsible adult.”
“School is over. So, I should get a job,” Wes shot back, rising to her feet. The long, striped maxi dress she wore caressed the tiles as she headed for the coffee. “Since we’re staying here, I’m simply giving you a heads up. It’s not a request.”
Her counter argument teetered on her tongue, and Gwen swallowed it when a knock sounded at the door. She jumped off her seat at the unexpected noise. “I’ve got it,” she said, clutching her chest as she headed for the door.
Peering through the peephole, she saw a young man wearing a courier bag slung over his shoulder. He knocked again and rang the bell. Her eyes focused on the large plastic envelope in his hand. She unlocked the door and opened it. “Hello.”
“Are you Gwen Eastman?” He held out a device for her to sign.
“That’s me,” she answered and signed her name with the stylus where he pointed.
He handed her the package and left without another word. She stared at it as she closed the door and returned to the kitchen. Who would send her something? Who even knew she was there. It had to be something from Cherie, except the top corner of the package had the Puck Battle emblem. The double hockey sticks were tough to miss.
“For you?” Westlyn took the envelope from her hand and tore it open after Gwen nodded.
Two cell phones slid onto the counter along with a note.
Both women reached for the note at the same time, but Wes was faster. “It’s addressed to you from someone named Spencer,” she read out loud. “You and your daughter should have forms of communication while you’re in the city. Consider them my welcome back gift. My number is programmed into the contacts. We’ll be in touch soon.”
“Give me that.” Gwen snatched the paper from her daughter’s hand and reread it. Three times.
He’d given them brand new iPhones. One white and one silver. Before she could say they would return the extravagant gifts, her daughter had ripped off the protective peel and was typing away.
“Do you know the WiFi password? After I set up this one, I’ll work on the other one for you. I’m not sure who Spencer is, but I like him,” she said without looking up from the phone. “Already the friends you have here are better than the ones back home.”
Gwen didn’t agree. She couldn’t speak and stood clutching the paper, expecting it would provide more information. When that didn’t help, she paced the kitchen. Several minutes passed and then the white phone rang. The sound reverberated on the counter and bounced off the cabinets, causing her to jump.
Spencer’s name flashed on the screen. This time she beat Wes and gripped the phone before her daughter answered. The lights flashed, and it rang again. But she didn’t answer. She had nothing to say to him. Knowing she couldn’t avoid him forever, she left the kitchen and padded her way towards the bedroom. She needed privacy to deal with him.
A text followed.
“I know you have the phone. Answer it.”
She laughed as once again it rang. This time, she answered. “Persistent aren’t you.”
“You have no idea,” he responded with a deep velvety voice that made her insides quiver. “How are you?”
When was the last time anyone asked how she was doing? Other than Wes, no one cared. Most days she barely cared.
“I’m hanging in there. The gifts are too much,” she stated. “They will be returned as soon as I figure out the return address. It’s not okay Spencer.”
What he’d done in the past wasn’t okay and neither was buying her presents to make up for it. He couldn’t buy his way back into her good graces.
“It’s a gift. You can thank me at dinner this evening. A car will be downstairs to pick you and your daughter up at five.”
She smiled at the fact he invited Westlyn too. That tiny bit of thoughtfulness reminded her of the Spencer she’d fallen for. “What if we already have plans?”
“Do you?”
He was missing the point. She didn’t want to see him. “No, but—”
“See you soon.” He hung up before she argued.
A trip down memory lane was the last thing she needed in her life. She rubbed
her temples as the onset of a headache bloomed. Her initial reaction to call him back and refuse subsided when she heard Wes singing from the other room. The melodic tune made her smile.
Instead of rejecting the invitation, she’d leave it up to the girl belting out lyrics. Dinner with Spencer would only happen if Wes wanted to go. She prayed her daughter wouldn’t be interested.
CHAPTER FOUR
A t five o’clock sharp, they stood on the lobby as a black stretched limousine parked in front of the building. The sun reflected off the shiny surface, forcing her to squint. Gwen squared her shoulders, preparing to see him again. She hadn’t been ready the previous night. Instead of two-day-old travel clothes, she wore a casual wrap dress with a tropical pattern. Her hair was curled and hung loosely around her shoulders. A base coat of mascara covered her thick lashes, and she had applied a splash of pink color to her lips. Too much makeup might give him the wrong impression and her intent was to keep things professional.
This wasn’t a date. She didn’t understand what this was or why she had agreed to dinner. Spencer did not deserve her time, but it was the quickest way to return the phones.
“Awesome,” Wes said, pushing off the lobby wall. “I’ve never been inside a limo before.”
“Me either.” Her hands shook as she opened the door and stepped outside.
The parking lot was almost empty. The heat and humidity enveloped her instantly. A bead of sweat dripped down her spine.
Why was she nervous? This was not a date, she reminded herself for the twentieth time.
The young driver raced to greet them. “Hello,” he said, tipping his hat towards them and opening the door.
Her heart beat faster as she searched the back seat. It was empty. Spencer wasn’t there. Shuffling inside after her daughter, she sighed. This man was full of surprises. She pulled his phone from her purse and found his contact information.
Wes looked around the inside of the car with wide eyes. “Where’s your friend?”
