by Anna Sugden
“I understand. Plus Christmas is a family time. Although Gloria would understand, she really wouldn’t be happy if I wasn’t around for the holidays. I’m sure you’ll work with the team to meet the timings.” Marty added, “I realize this is a major commitment for you. It’s a long time to be away from your business. I expect you to reflect that in your fees for this project.”
“That’s generous but unnecessary.”
“Nonsense. It’s smart business. You’ll make it worth my while, I know.”
Given how much money she’d made for him on previous projects, she knew that to be true. “I appreciate it nonetheless.”
“While we’re on the subject, when you return from London, I think it’s time we discussed bringing your business into the fold.”
Her mind was still on what she’d need to do before going to England, and it took a moment for Marty’s words to sink in. “Excuse me?”
“I’d like to purchase your company. Make it part of the Antonelli group. Obviously, as with my other acquisitions, it would continue to run as a discrete business with you remaining in charge. However, you’d get the benefit of my financial backing and security for the long term. It’s an opportunity for you to take your company to new heights.”
Sapphie was flabbergasted. Marty acquiring her business was the last thing she’d expected. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought about. Sure, she wanted to be successful and well respected in her industry and to make enough money so that she never had to worry again about where her next meal was coming from or how to keep a roof over her head. But she’d always assumed she’d make it on her own. Never as part of a conglomerate.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Everything Marty had said was true, but on the flip side, her company would no longer be hers. She’d lose her independence and autonomy.
Was that a price worth paying for total financial security?
Realizing she hadn’t spoken for several moments, she responded truthfully, “I don’t know what to say.”
Marty seemed unfazed by her lack of enthusiasm. “Obviously, it’s a lot to take in and we need to discuss it in far more detail. I’m sure you’ll hold my feet to the fire before you let me add you to my holdings. But there will be plenty of time to talk through everything once this deal for the soccer team is done.”
There was no harm in hearing what he had to say, so Sapphie agreed to that much before ending the call. With so much to organize before leaving for London, she resolved to put thinking about his offer and her company’s future aside until she had time to consider it properly.
Sapphie called in her assistant and they discussed travel arrangements.
“Pack an umbrella,” her assistant teased. “I hear December is wet.”
“But not as cold or windy as it is here.” Sapphie looked out of the window at the blustery Chicago weather and saw that the sky was dark and the rush-hour gridlock had already begun to ease.
Scotty would be here soon. Smiling, she looked at her watch. His plane was due to land shortly.
He hadn’t called last night. Sapphie had been a little surprised not to hear from him but had assumed dinner had gone on longer than expected and he hadn’t wanted to disturb her so late. That he hadn’t left a message or even sent a text was odd, but there could be any number of reasons for that. Dead battery, no cell coverage, phone dropped down the toilet...at which point she’d felt ridiculous for making excuses for him. He’d call when he could.
Sapphie’s mind finally connected the dots that she probably should have joined up before. Going to England meant she wouldn’t see Scotty until Christmas.
Damn it. That was a wrinkle she hadn’t considered. Seeing each other once a week—usually on the weekends—had been working well. She’d already begun to miss him when they couldn’t be together. And with each visit, the time in between had seemed to drag more and more. Phone calls and Skype were a poor substitute for being with him.
The next month would seem like forever.
Sapphie felt guilty that she’d been so caught up in the excitement of the trip she hadn’t thought of Scotty before now.
Her guilt annoyed her. That was her problem with dating—expectations, responsibilities, commitments. Accepting the demands of their respective jobs was fine when all was going smoothly, but this could turn everything around.
Then she felt guilty that she’d been annoyed. Scotty hadn’t put any demands on her, even though he’d made it clear that he wanted them to be a couple. She put those demands on herself.
What a mess.
She paced her office. There had to be a way to make it work. England was only a plane ride away. Technically, it wasn’t a lot different from flying from the West Coast to the East. The problem was that it wouldn’t do the project any favors for her to fly home every weekend. Equally, Scotty wouldn’t be able to travel to England. This was a busy time in the Ice Cats’ schedule.
Still, where there was a will, there was a way. They’d managed to make things work so far. A solution would mean compromise, but it was only for a month. And it would be a good test for the future, seeing how they could work their relationship around these obstacles. This might be the first hiccup, but it wouldn’t be the last.
Satisfied that there would be a way around the problem even if she wasn’t sure what it was right now, Sapphie tidied her things and prepared to go home.
Her phone rang as she was putting on her coat. Scotty, at last.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” His voice sounded strange. Wooden. Tight.
Concerned, she asked, “Is everything all right?”
“No.”
The single word came out with such force it took her aback. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m at O’Hare.”
“Great. I was about to head to my apartment. Are you going there or do you want me to meet you at your hotel?”
“Neither.”
This was the strangest conversation. Not that he was ever a motormouth, but she’d never had to drag every word out of him before. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
“I’m waiting for a connection.”
She shook her head, confused. Had she missed something? “Connection to where?”
“Ottawa.”
“Excuse me?” When no further explanation was forthcoming, she prodded, “Why are you going to Ottawa?”
Assuming it was something to do with the Ice Cats—seeing a player they might want to do a deal for, maybe—she wasn’t prepared for his answer.
“My friend committed suicide.” His words came out in a rush, as if saying them faster might somehow make them less horrifying.
Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of what he’d said. “What? Who? When?”
“Cam Lockhead.”
An image of a broad-faced man with a menacing, gap-toothed grin came to mind. “The former Cats enforcer? The one Callum announced was going to be an ambassador for the team?” The one both Scotty and Grey had played with.
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her words seemed so inadequate. “What a terrible tragedy. I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s okay. No one does.” His voice cracked on the final word. He cleared his throat.
Her heart ached for him. To lose a friend and teammate so young was bad enough. Knowing that he’d taken his own life must be devastating.
“So, why Ottawa? Isn’t he with Seattle?”
“No. He’d finished with them in the summer. He’s been at home. I’m going to see Laurel, his wife. Grey’s flying up, too, and will meet me there.”
At least he wouldn’t be alone dealing with such an unimaginably awful situation. “Will you stay until the funeral?”
“No. Just until tomorrow night. Then I’ll rejoin the team in Chic
ago and Grey will go home.” His shuddering sigh tugged at her heartstrings. “I’m not sure what we can do, how much help we can be, but we have to go. For Bullet.”
“Of course. I know there isn’t anything I can do, but I’ll be thinking of you. Will you call me when you get a chance?”
“I’ll try.”
“Send a text. Anything to let me know how you’re doing.”
“Sure.”
“Even if it’s only for a few minutes, I’d like to see you when you get back.”
“Okay. Sure. I’d like that.” A muffled voice spoke. “Gotta go. Flight’s being called.”
“Take care of yourself.” Once again she felt inadequate.
“Yeah.”
When she hung up, she sat for a long time trying to process the awful news. She hadn’t known Bullet personally, as he’d left the Ice Cats long before she’d become friends with Taylor and the other players. But Cam had been a longtime fan favorite and his craggy face was well-known. There were still a large number of jerseys with his name and number in the stands at any game.
Whenever she’d seen him interviewed, he’d always seemed full of life. He was the classic goon—a fighting machine on the ice, but a placid, humble, generous and intelligent guy off it. A big family man. She recalled he’d had concussion problems, but she’d thought he was over them. He’d seemed pleased to be coming home to the team where he’d played the best years of his career. She found it hard to imagine that he’d felt desperate enough to end his life. Yet he’d clearly had some terrible demons.
Since her evening had now opened up, Sapphie considered staying at the office and working. But her heart wasn’t in it. So she stuffed files and her laptop into her briefcase and headed to her apartment.
By the time she got there, the story had started to hit the media. It was heartbreaking to see the photographs of Bullet with his teammates. Especially a much younger Scotty, Grey and Ike Jelinek. There was video of a classic fight between Bullet and Jake Badoletti, back when Bad Boy had played for Chicago. And pictures of Cam towering over his petite, beautiful wife, smiling at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. His expression seemed to say “How the hell did I get so lucky?”
It was sobering to see his picture added to the growing list of players—far too many, far too young—who’d also suffered once their careers were over and who’d chosen the same ending Cam Lockhead had.
The irony that Bullet’s life had ended in misery and despair just as hers had taken a huge upswing was not lost on Sapphie. It reminded her of all the times growing up when the opposite had been true. When other people’s lives had seemed so bright and brilliant, so full of joy and opportunity, while hers had sunk to another new depth.
How many times had she been at rock bottom? Overwhelmed by always having to be the responsible one, the one who sacrificed daily to make life bearable for her family? Had she thought that she couldn’t take one more day? In her darkest moments, only the thought of escape and freedom had driven her to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Knowing that one day the only person she’d have to worry about was herself was enough to make her carry on and keep striving.
Still, there but for the grace of God, the Fates or whatever greater power people believed in. That could so easily have been her.
Sapphie poured another glass of wine and raised it to Bullet and all the players who’d passed far too soon.
Cam Lockhead’s death reminded her that life was too short. There wasn’t time to waste on anything that didn’t make you happy. She looked around the apartment and thought again about moving her home to Jersey, being closer to Issy and her family.
Being closer to Scotty. He made her happy, for sure. Maybe he could be the man who was able to be a true partner, instead of someone who made demands. Who could support her as much as she supported him. Who could share the responsibilities and commitments, not expect her to carry the load.
She had no idea what the future held for them, but she had to give them a chance. Instead of putting up obstacles, finding reasons that they couldn’t work, she should focus on finding ways to help their relationship to succeed.
She was going to do it. A new adventure. Sapphie laughed giddily. Instead of cutting ties, she would create them—a home and a man. It was scary, but it had worked for other people. Why not her and Scotty?
She leaned against the couch and thought about a very different life from the one she’d always imagined. The one she’d always thought she’d wanted. Happy in her relationship, happy in her work.
Work.
She sat bolt upright on the couch, her stomach tightening. She hadn’t told Scotty about her new job for Marty.
* * *
THE LAST THING Scott expected when he walked out of O’Hare’s secure area into the arrivals hall was that Sapphie would be waiting for him. Yet there she was, looking fresh and beautiful and so damn alive his heart ached with joy.
He saw her a second or two before she noticed him, which gave him a chance to watch her blue eyes light up when she spotted him and then see that happiness spread to her face. Ah, how the sight of her soothed some of the raw pain that had been scraping his insides since that horrible phone call.
Guilt stabbed him. How could he be happy when Bullet was dead? What right did he have to be looking forward to a night with his woman when Laurel would never again see her husband?
The moment he cleared the cordons, Sapphie threw her arms around him. Scott wrapped her tightly in his embrace and bowed his head to rest it against hers. Breathing in her scent eased some of the tightness in his chest and reminded him of what—or rather who—made him happy. If only he could stay like this forever.
Somebody’s case banged against his legs, reminding him where they were. He lifted his head and smiled ruefully. “I guess we’re blocking the way.”
“That’s okay.” Sapphie pulled gently out of his embrace. “Come on. We can get a cab. I thought we could go to my apartment and you’d have a chance to decompress before you rejoin the team.”
Not wanting to lose the connection with her, he slid his hand along her arm and entwined his fingers in hers. As they walked toward the exit doors, he cleared his throat, trying to ease the lump that made it hard to speak.
“Thanks. I didn’t think I’d see you until tomorrow at the game.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to be alone. Or if you’d rather join the guys at the hotel. Or meet up with Callum and get right back into it. Some people prefer that. Anyway, I spoke with Callum and he said to do whatever you needed and he’d make things work at his end.” She wrinkled her nose. “For sure, you don’t need me babbling at you.”
His laugh sounded as rusty as it felt. “Actually, that’s exactly what I need. You’re exactly what I need.”
She squeezed his hand. “Then you’re in luck.”
As if understanding that he couldn’t talk about his trip right now, she chattered away while they waited for a taxi and then rode to her apartment. He didn’t know exactly what she talked about, because his mind kept disappearing into the protective fog that had surrounded him for the past twenty-four hours, blurring the edges of the waking nightmare. Luckily, she didn’t require any contribution from him.
Once inside her apartment, she ushered him to the large sectional couch while she got him a drink and something to eat. From where he sat, he could look out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at two completely different vistas—tall city buildings on one side and the lake on the other. In his frame of mind, he couldn’t appreciate the great views. Instead, he leaned back and stared at the ceiling. When Sapphie set the loaded tray on the coffee table, he knew he should move, but he didn’t have the energy.
This trip had been bad enough. He couldn’t even face the thought of how awful the funeral would be.
When Sapph
ie sat beside him, he pulled her to him.
Her thoughtfulness, the way she’d stepped up to take care of him, touched him. “Right now I’m not up to questions and sympathy. It’s well-meant, but it’s hard. You know?”
She nodded, stroking her hand down his arm. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. You can talk about it if you want, but equally, you don’t have to say a word. Whatever makes you feel better.”
“I’m not sure myself.” He puffed out a breath. “Man, how does Laurel do it? This must be a million times worse for her.”
“How is she holding up?”
“On the one hand, she’s completely destroyed. The man she’s loved since she was eighteen and who worshipped the ground she walked on took his own life. With no warning.” He shook his head. “The worst must have been explaining it to their two sons. They are...were...such a close family. But her incredible strength amazes me. She’s the one organizing everything and everyone. She’s the one comforting people who loved Bullet, like me and Grey.”
“She sounds like a special lady.”
“Laurel is a far better person than I am. She’s the one speaking of forgiveness and understanding, and of what Bullet had been through. That he wasn’t different from those people who have painful and debilitating diseases and who cannot take the suffering anymore. I can’t get my head around it. How bad it must have been for him to...end it.”
What he couldn’t say aloud was that he kept wondering what he could have done to help his friend. A question that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
They sat quietly for a while, both lost in thought. Then they talked a little about Bullet. Scott shared memories and told her about the last conversations he’d had with his friend.
As the evening wore on, Scott was grateful for how easy Sapphie was to be with. And how she was able to give him what he needed. She let him talk when he had to and was silent when he couldn’t speak. She didn’t rush to fill the gaps with platitudes or keep pressing him to share his feelings. She made him eat, and then when exhaustion overtook him, Sapphie helped him to bed and held him until he fell asleep.
