by Olivia Luck
“The joke wasn’t that funny, chickie,” she says.
“The alternative to laughing is too depressing,” I mutter when I get ahold of myself.
“Start from the beginning,” Felix says.
Quickly, I recant my visit with Zoe while my friends murmur words of encouragement and sympathy. When I hit the Blake portion of the story, Violet’s face darkens.
“He had sex with you without a condom?” she seethes.
Felix shakes his head, eyes narrowed. “Not fucking cool, Stella.”
I nod miserably. “God, I feel so cheap. What was I thinking? There was no tenderness whatsoever. He didn’t kiss me once.” Automatically, my palm cups the still tender skin at my neck. “No doubt I’ll have a hickey tomorrow. That was the opposite of adult sex. It was like a bumbling, horny guy who had no care for my pleasure. It was humiliating.”
“Stop right there. This is not humiliating to you. It’s mortifying for him. The guy behaved badly and doesn’t deserve to be with someone as good as you,” Violet says.
“It’s the death of a dream,” I admit forlornly. “For six years, I have imagined Blake as the guy for me. Today, he showed me…” I release a weary sigh. “I don’t know what he showed me, but whatever it was that I saw, it hurt tremendously.” Staring at my hands, I allow the conversation to lapse into silence. Then, achingly, I admit, “I love him. Loved him. I don’t know anymore. I’m so confused.”
“He’s easy to love, Stella. From everything that you’ve told me, he’s almost as perfect as Max.” That provokes a weak smile. “These are extenuating circumstances for all of you. He may have made a mistake, but that doesn’t make him unlovable.” By the sharp, painful expression that crosses her features, I know Violet’s referring to more than Blake in this situation.
“You’re right,” I murmur. “Our mistakes don’t define us; it’s what we do in light of them.”
Felix nods. “No one’s perfect, Stell. The guy looks it, but he’s got struggles. I’m not trying to justify what he did, but he’s fighting something fierce, too.”
Violet catches my hand in hers. “As much as I hate to say it, you probably need a break from all things Zoe and Blake. Give them time to figure out their issues. Well, give Zoe the benefit of the doubt. Blake, on the other hand, is on the top of my bad news bears list.”
Her sweet attempt at smack talk makes me smile weakly again. “There’s absolutely no way that I’m contacting him again. If I don’t see Blake again for a year that will be soon enough for me.”
One month later
“Take a breath. You’re losing color in the face. Clearly, you need some good old oxygen in your lungs.”
I look down at my hands, clasped tightly together in my lap. “There’s a slim to none chance that we’ll run into him. How often does the owner of the team lurk around with the operations group?”
“I’ve never met Blake Campbell, but from what I’ve seen in the gossip magazines and TV, the man has never lurked a day in his life,” Violet teases, bumping me with her shoulder.
Rolling my eyes, I hunker down into the backseat of the taxi. In a few minutes, we’ll be at the Chicago Scrapers’ training facility, directly across the street from the massive Chicago Center. There’s a slim chance that I’ll run into Blake at the client meeting today. Trepidation still courses through me. There’s been radio silence since that night a month ago. Christmas came and went. New Year’s danced past with a flurry of snow showers and silence from Blake. No text, no email, no carrier pigeon arrived. After the way that he left me, I’m not surprised he disappeared, but it still stings. Tremendously.
It’s been a harrowing month. Getting caught up on the demands of the Chicago Center at warp speed was challenging enough, but doing that on top of pretending Blake didn’t shred my heart was nearly impossible. The cherry on top of this whole mess is the lack of Zoe in my life. I’m hurting and I want her advice, but she’s pushed me out of her life. And that guts me on a daily basis because I believe that I have failed her.
Shaking my thoughts away, I follow Violet out of the cab and we rush inside.
“Remind me what they’re donating?” Violet asks as I lead her through the maze of hallways toward the office wing.
“Ryan’s got four tickets to a game. Awesome seats, center ice,” I tell her as we climb a set of stairs to the administrative wing. The offices overlook the practice ice where the Scrapers run their practices. This is the second time that I’ve visited the facility. The first time was to introduce myself and talk project plan with Ryan Sullivan, the first assistant to the Chicago Center’s operations manager. Luckily, the place was nearly dead, no Blake or famous hockey player sightings.
Today, Violet and I are on a mission to collect a raffle donation for Speck’s annual charity gala. Violet’s been planning the event since the beginning of November to benefit Chicago’s biggest food pantry. The seventies themed party is next Saturday night at a trendy nightclub. Local clients are invited, in addition to employees and their guests. Several hundred people attend the party every year. This year I’m dreading the event. Watching all of my co-workers and friends with their dates will be a painful reminder of my singular status.
“Smile, it’s client time,” Violet mutters.
I paste on a bright expression when we reach the reception desk. “Hi, Marla.” Thankfully I recall her name. “We’re here to see Ryan. Stella Baccino and Violet Harper from Speck.”
“Right on time, but I expect nothing less from my exceptionally organized Stella,” a deep voice jokes. Sauntering through the hallway behind the reception desk is Ryan. With stiffly styled Ken doll hair, most women probably consider him good looking. I appreciate his polished veneer, though, after a month of working with Ryan, I know that he can’t shine the shoes of the man I still can’t stop thinking about. Ryan’s never been anything but friendly to me, but at times, I wonder if he’s flirting.
“Ryan, hello. This is our event planner extraordinaire, Violet.” They exchange pleasantries, but Ryan’s eyes remain fixed to where I’m standing. He produces an envelope and presents it to me.
“No need to go back into my office, I have your tickets right here.”
“Thank you for donating, we are very grateful for your contribution. I’m sure these tickets will bring in big money for our raffle,” Violet says smoothly, offering her polished and polite smile. The woman knows how to present herself professionally. Not that I don’t, but she has it down to an art.
“No problem,” Ryan all but purrs. The husky tone immediately triggers uneassiness in my mind, but I keep my features impassive. “You’ll be at the party, Stella?”
I reach out and capture one side of the envelope, but he doesn’t release the black and gold paper. With a stiff smile, I respond shortly, “Of course. Violet’s parties aren’t to be missed.” It may be my imagination, but I swear he wets his lower lip.
Yuck.
“Wonderful. See you then, and I’m sure that we’ll talk sooner.”
“Thank you again,” I say much more cheery than I feel inside. An internal radar starts pulsing quietly in the back of my mind and it can only mean one of two things: Blake’s not far or I’m a paranoid mess. Now, more than ever, I need to escape.
“Have a great weekend,” Violet trills. Ryan offers his own goodbye and I let my friend subtly lead me out of the office. All the while, I feel Ryan’s eyes trained on our retreating figures. It’s a decidedly unpleasant feeling.
“Max will be here in five to get us,” Violet tells me softly after reading a text message and shoving the mobile back into her purse. “Do you know where to find a bathroom in this labyrinth?”
“Near the entrance.”
We’re silent as we descend the stairs and pass by the empty ice rink. In the main lobby, Violet breaks the quiet. “What the funk was that?”
I grimace, tingling skittering up my legs, making itself at home in my belly. He’s here, I know he’s here, and I need to get away befor
e I run into him.
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to. The bathroom’s right over there.” I gesture toward the little female symbol. I’d rather ignore the Ryan problem. Violet and I can discuss it when we are far, far away from potentially running into Blake Campbell and the painful memories that he will no doubt evoke.
“Ryan Sullivan was hitting on you. The guy’s not bad looking but don’t you think it’s a bit unprofessional of him?”
“I don’t disagree with you, but can we talk about him later?” I ask urgently. “This place gives me a really uneasy feeling and my thoughts are all jumbled.”
Violet squeezes my shoulder comfortingly. “You got it, chickie. Bathroom break then we are gone.” She hurries off into the ladies’ room, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. I dig my phone out of my purse to divert my attention. The lobby is eerily silent. Maybe that tingling sensation was nerves and had nothing to do with reality. I stare at an email from Katya about progress on the Chicago Center’s integration.
When I hear a voice, I’m too absorbed in the email to realize that I have company.
“Stella?”
If I have a heart attack, someone tell my parents that I love them.
Blake
Beside me, Cam smirks. Yeah, it’s really fucking hilarious that the moment I say Stella’s name, her entire body goes rigid. Her slim shoulders stiffen and the curtain of inky black hair tickles down her back when she raises her head. Stella’s normally creamy complexion goes chalky at the sight of me. Clear blue eyes stare at me in shock. Hell, I’m surprised, too.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out before I can think to get my mouth in line.
Smooth, Campbell.
Her eyes float between me and Cam in wonder. Does she realize that Cam’s the Scrapers’ goalie who moonlights as a watch model? The thought darkens my mood.
“The Chicago Center is my client,” she murmurs.
“And you didn’t call me?” I ask incredulously. Of course, she didn’t call you, asshole. The last time you saw her, you behaved like an animal, and you haven’t called to apologize. It’s a wonder that she’s not running in the opposite direction.
Stella raises both eyebrows in a silent, Are you fucking kidding me? Damn, she’s gorgeous, Snow White come to life. I’ve missed her, the comfort she brought me when I felt like there was no hope for my sister, the tenderness when I was weak. God, what was I thinking by treating her terribly?
You were thinking with your dick, it’s pretty simple.
“I’m Cam,” the jerk, also known as my closest friend, next to me interjects smoothly. She places her petite hand in his for a shake, and I suddenly have the urge to rip his very expensive arm from the socket. That wouldn’t be too good for our chances at the Cup. Suddenly, athletic glory doesn’t seem so important when he has his hands on the girl I… You what?
I’ll figure that out later.
“I know who you are,” Stella says, a blush coloring her cheeks. “My cousin is a huge fan of the team. We watched you guys last night. Good game.”
“Thanks,” he responds modestly.
I’m Mr. Smooth. Nothing ruffles my feathers. Ever. Standing here next to a clearly pissed-off Stella, my body feels awkward. I’m not sure where to put my hands or what to say. With an internal shake off, I clear my throat to break up this cute little meeting.
Yeah, ignore the idiot, I think smugly when Stella’s attention drifts back to me. What is this, a pissing contest? Might as well whip out my dick, too.
“You never mentioned we were a client.” My tone is more accusatory than I want it to be, and Stella takes notice. Her right hand flies up to cup her neck defensively and her thick lashes fan across her face when she glances at the ground.
It comes back in a flash.
Losing control and marking her skin. I couldn’t help it, her sweetness called out to me like a siren’s song. I needed to consume her. Of course, I could hardly get past the delicious skin on her collarbone. I won’t make the same mistake when I have her again.
Again?
“Chickie, you ready? Max is outside.” An auburn-haired pixie floats out of the restroom, bringing the sunshine with her. Apparently, I’m not the only one who notices; from the corner of my eye, I observe Cam’s rapt attention drawn to Stella’s friend.
“Ready, V.” Stella looks exponentially relieved at the sight of her friend. She shoves her cell phone into the front pocket of her purse and turns toward her friend. The dark redhead suddenly doesn’t look too eager to depart. She’s watching me with a fierce expression.
“You’re right; we’ve got to hurry if we’re going to have enough time to get ready.” She nudges Stella’s shoulder with hers and shares a wicked grin. This is too suggestive to ignore. A voice inside of me screams to know what the fuck they’re getting ready for. I bite.
“What are you two doing tonight?”
“Oh, we’ve got a double date. A Channing Tatum lookalike has been hounding this one every day for a week straight. Finally, she relented,” Violet says nonchalantly. With each word, I’m growing more and more furious. The only one taking Stella on a date should be me. She wants to go out? Fine. I’ll gladly take her anywhere she wants to go. “It’s been one after the other with guys asking her out recently. Geez, Stella, I don’t know how you keep them all straight.”
Stella’s face resembles a tomato, it’s red with…anger? Embarrassment? I’m not sure.
“Nice to see you. Have a great weekend!” the girl next to Stella sings without having introduced herself. She loops her arm through Stella’s and practically drags her toward the entrance. A moment later, they’re gone and I’m left watching, on the verge of homicide. Stella’s going out with some prick who looks like Channing Tatum?
Cam, the fucker, lets out a low whistle. “Who was that?” I glance over at him, surprised to find him awestruck.
“Stella, a friend of my sister’s.” Cam’s one of the few people who knows about Zoe. I trust him except when he’s staring after Stella with that razor-sharp goalie vision turned on.
“Never seen you that worked up over a woman.”
“She’s different.” With my teeth ground together, the words come out garbled.
He smirks in my direction. “Shaking in your pretty boy shoes.”
“Shut up.” Fury ripples through me. The trusty mask that hides my emotions is nowhere to be found. Without looking back at my friend, I stride across through the lobby toward the back office.
“Where you going, man? I thought we were leaving,” Cam calls from behind me.
No matter if she’s got a date with some loser tonight. By this time next week, she’ll be talking to me again and this awkward encounter will be nothing but a memory. Snow White will be on my arm, charming me with her smile, not some other dipshit.
“Got some business, give me a minute.”
Pushing through the wide glass doors with purpose, I stride to Marla’s desk and flash her my most charming smile. “I need your help,” I tell her.
Stella won’t be going on dates with any other guys if I have anything to say about it.
Stella
“Did you seriously just tell Blake that I have a date with a Channing Tatum lookalike?” I grumble after slamming the car door shut behind me.
Violet’s too busy smacking Max’s cheek with a kiss to respond. Then she flicks around in the front passenger seat, eyes glittering with excitement. “Did you see the look on his face? He wanted to strangle someone! Blake Campbell wants you, Stella Baccino.”
“Blake Campbell as in Zoe’s brother?” From my seat in the back, I see my cousin’s curiosity. I never told him about my one-night stand with Blake, knowing Max would be enraged to hear that a guy treated me so callously.
“That was incredible,” Violet cheers, gripping the edge of the black leather seat to balance as Max navigates the car. “After the way he treated you, he deserved a taste of his own medicine.”
“How did he treat yo
u?” From the profile, I see Max’s lips pull down into a frown.
“Violet,” I groan. “Max doesn’t need to hear this.”
“Yes, he certainly does. You don’t have an older brother and I don’t have a younger sister. Ergo, I watch out for you.” He switches into the left lane, driving north on Ashland toward their apartment on the north side.
“They hooked up and he didn’t call her after,” Violet fibs slightly.
“What?” Max growls, anger palpable.
“It’s not that big of a deal, Max, honestly,” I placate.
“Not that big of a deal? I have two functioning eyes in my head, Stella. Whenever someone mentions his team, you perk up. From the first time that I saw you two together, it was clear you had feelings for him. Now you’re telling me Blake didn’t handle you with care. He took advantage of you. I’m going to –”
“Stop!” I cry. “Please, Max, don’t get involved. He and I are both to blame, we were both vulnerable and upset about Zoe. It’s not going to happen again.” Deep down, do I really believe what I’m saying?
He still could have called. He could have apologized. He could have handled it in a million better ways. My thoughts are a painful reminder, though I don’t want my cousin taking on this battle for me. It’s better to move on and forget that it ever happened. I’ll find someone else.
I hope.
“Maybe that’s true, but today he looked at you like you were a tall drink of water on a scorching summer day,” Violet says.
“He can look all he wants. I don’t plan on talking to him again,” I mutter more to myself than her.
“That’s probably a good idea. You don’t want to date a guy with that much jealousy.”
“Jealous?” I snort in disbelief. “Blake dates supermodels.”
“Doesn’t matter who he has dated in the past, chickie. The man wants you. He clearly regrets how he treated you.” Leaving me stunned, Violet winks and flips around to face forward.
Somehow, I have a hard time believing that I’ll ever hear from either Zoe or Blake again.
