The one and only time she and Ty argued, it was about Virgil. It happened at his house during a golf lesson when he was teaching her to “waggle.” She wore a red corset and little panties that tied at the sides, and instead of getting turned on like she’d planned, he’d just gotten irritated.
“When are you going to stop wearing that ring?” he asked as she lined up a shot.
“Does it bother you?”
He shrugged and placed his beer on the bar. He wore a pair of worn Levi’s and a ripped-up tank top. His hair was disheveled from her fingers and he looked good enough to lick up one side and down the other. “It’s a constant reminder that you’re Virgil’s wife.”
She set the club in a rack and turned to face him. “Obviously, that bothers you.”
“I think it would bother most men. I’m having sex with you, and you’re wearing another man’s ring.”
She looked into his blue eyes, brittle with anger, and she didn’t understand it. “Virgil’s only been dead two months.”
“Exactly. You can come here and have sex but you can’t take off that damn ring?”
“I already feel guilty about the sex, Ty.” Suddenly she felt naked and exposed and she moved past him toward her dress, lying on his couch. “He was my husband for five years.”
“He was your roommate.”
“He took care of me.”
“He bought you because he could.”
“Well, I sold myself to him.” She grabbed the dress and turned to face him. “Which makes me no better than him.”
“You weren’t the one in the relationship with all the power. He was.”
Which was true. She and Virgil had been friends and gotten along very well, but he’d always been in charge. “He was good to me. Better than any man I’ve ever known.”
“Then the men in your life must have sucked.” He folded his arms across his chest.
That was true too.
“He’s gone, Faith.”
“I know.” She pulled her dress over her head and shoved her arms in the short sleeves.
“You don’t owe him anything.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” Her hands rose to the buttons on the front. “He left me enough money to take care of me for the rest of my life. He left me his hockey team, for God’s sake. And every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m betraying my husband.” Her fingers fumbled with the button. “I feel guilty as hell, but I feel the most guilty those times when I’m not feeling guilty at all.” She looked up at him. “Maybe Landon was right about me. I am a shameless gold digger. But I don’t even mind being called a gold digger. It’s the truth, but I thought I’d outgrown being shameless.”
“If you were shameless you wouldn’t be standing here freaking out.” He shook his head. “You’re thirty years old. You’re young and beautiful, and you’ve been living on a shelf. Jesus, you’ve been celibate for five years. You shouldn’t feel guilty about wanting to live again.”
“I
was living. It’s just not a life you approve of.” She looked into his still angry eyes. “Most of my life I’ve avoided feeling bad about the things I do. Most of my life I
was shameless. I always did whatever it took to survive, and most of the time, I didn’t feel bad. But being with you isn’t about survival. It’s about feeling good. It’s about risking my reputation, what little I have, and your career, and being so selfish I do it anyway.”
He took a few steps toward her and grabbed her wrists. “Don’t go.”
“Tell me why I should stay.”
“Because despite the possible damage to my career and your reputation, I’m selfish as hell and want you here. It would be easier if I didn’t, but I stopped fighting it weeks ago.”
She dropped her hands to her sides and looked up into his face. The stitches had been taken from his brow, and he was left with an angry red line at the corner of his right eye. For how long would he want her? How long could it all last? she wanted to ask him. Instead she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his solid chest. His heart beat strong and steady against her cheek as his hand moved up and down her back. And it felt so good standing there, her body pressed to his, feeling his warm, soothing touch. She could almost make herself believe that it wouldn’t end in disaster.
Tomorrow night was the first game against the Penguins. She would think about that and not the ache in her chest and the clog in her throat. She would worry about their defensemen and not about the fear twisting her stomach. The truly horrifying feeling in the bottom of her soul that the unacceptable had happened. Despite all good reason and sense, despite everything they had against them, she’d fallen completely in love with Ty Savage.
For the first time in five years, her wedding ring felt like a heavy weight on her finger. Suddenly it didn’t feel right that she should wear one man’s ring when she was in love with another.
When she returned home early the next morning, she took it off and placed it in her safe next to the other jewelry Virgil had bought for her. The beautiful stones in the safe glittered in the light, but failed to give her the warmth and comfort they’d always provided. Her hand looked naked without the heavy diamonds, but it felt lighter, freer, and right. As if it was truly time to let go of the past and Virgil.
The rest of the day, she tried not to think about her situation with Ty. She was just going to live in the moment. It would last as long as it lasted. Yet, in a small corner of her heart, she hoped that everything would work out somehow. That they would find some way to be together, but in her head she knew that wasn’t realistic. This relationship was doomed to end in heartache, but perhaps if she was careful, maybe she wouldn’t lose her whole heart to him. If she was careful, maybe she could guard one last piece.
But later that afternoon, a package arrived at the penthouse that stole any remaining piece of her heart that didn’t already firmly belong to Ty.
The box was wrapped in white paper with a big pink-and-white-striped bow. Inside the polka-dot tissue paper lay a pair of pink patent-leather ice skates with gold blades. Size seven. The same size as her red Valentino pumps.
The card simply read I’ll catch you when you fall. It wasn’t signed but she knew who’d sent the skates. She sat on the couch with the box in her lap. Her eyes filled with tears and the back of her throat felt hot and scratchy. She tried unsuccessfully to blink back the moisture in her eyes, but she was no more successful at that than she was holding back the swell of her heart. She was in love with Ty. It was impossible. Inappropriate, and she didn’t feel good about it. Not the kind of good that falling should feel like.
“What’s that?” her mother asked as she walked into the living room.
Faith ducked her head. “Nothing.”
“It’s obviously not nothing.”
She brushed her wet cheek against the shoulder of her BCBG T-shirt. “Someone sent me skates.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really? How long do you think you can keep this up?”
“What?”
“Your secret relationship with Tyson.”
Faith looked up and stared at her mother, a vision of blurry zebra-print pants and black tube top.
“I’m not stupid, Faith. Neither is Pavel. We know you two sneak around and meet each other in private. We’ve been trying to stay out of your way.” She handed Faith a tissue from the box on the end table. “Dry your eyes. Your mascara will smear.”
Faith took the tissue and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come to me and talk to me about it.” Valerie sat on the couch and Pebbles jumped up beside her. “I could help. Maybe give you motherly advice.”
“No offense, Mom, but you’ve been married seven times. What advice could you give about relationships?”
Pebbles curled up by Valerie’s side as if to say that she was the favored daughter. “Well, I could tell you what mistakes not to make. Like never get
involved with a married man. They rarely leave their wives. Despite what they say.”
“That really doesn’t apply here, Mother.”
“That’s true.” Her hand dropped to Pebbles’s fur and she stroked the dog. “Or sailors. Those men dock at different ports around the world and they all seem to just love the hookers. Nasty bastards.”
“Again, Mom. Doesn’t apply.”
Valerie sighed as if she were the one suffering. “I guess my point is that your relationship with Ty is difficult but not impossible.”
“It feels impossible.”
“Do you love him?”
What she felt was so new, so raw, she didn’t want to talk about it. “I don’t want to love him.”
“Well, I don’t want age spots, but it’s something I can’t help.”
“Are you equating Ty and age spots?”
Valerie shrugged a bare shoulder. “Your body is going to react a certain way and there is nothing you can do about it. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. And you can’t control who your heart wants.”
A few weeks ago she would have told her mom that was a load of crap. And she would have believed it too. “But I don’t want my heart to want him. I don’t want to fall for any man right now. It’s too soon.” And she especially didn’t want a relationship that was so complicated.
“I know you loved Virgil. He was your husband but he was never your man.”
She looked into her mother’s green eyes surrounded by heavy mascara. “What does that mean?”
“It means that he wasn’t the man who drew your attention across the room or made your stomach go squishy at the sight of him. Virgil may have been nice to you, but he didn’t make you want to lie beside his body, next to his heart, for an entire afternoon.”
Curling up alongside Ty was one of her favorite things to do. “Is that how you feel about Pavel?”
Valerie shook her head. “Pavel is not the kind of man a woman should ever fall in love with. He’s a heartbreaker, and I am old enough, with enough experience under my belt, to see him for what he is. But he’s great company and we’re having a lot of fun. He’s only here to see his son win the cup.” She ran her fingers through Pebbles’s fur. “Ty is not like his father. He is not all fun and games and having fun. Pavel thinks he has feelings for you.”
Faith didn’t know how Ty felt. He’d never said. She knew he liked having sex with her. That much was obvious. And she knew he gave her gifts with some thought behind them. That had to count for something. But she also knew that if it came down to a choice, he’d pick his career over her. She understood that. Hockey was a part of him. It flowed through him like his own blood, giving him substance and strength and purpose. His drive and dedication were the things she loved about him.
They were also the things that would break them apart.
Game One of the Stanley Cup Finals between the Pittsburgh Penguins and the Seattle Chinooks was played on Seattle’s ice. The Key Arena was filled to capacity and the cool air buzzed with the excitement of more than fifteen thousand cheering fans.
Early in the first period, the Penguins dominated the puck, but the Chinooks came back strong in the second and third frames. Faith watched from the skybox, her heart pounding in her throat as the Chinooks beat Pittsburgh 3–1.
Game Two was played in the Mellon Arena on Pittsburgh ice. Despite the Penguins’ hometown advantage, Game Two was a repeat of Game One. Chinooks goalie Marty Darche stopped twenty-five of twenty-six shots on goal, while Ty scored in the remaining minutes with a one-timer shot across ice from the stick of Logan Dumont. The Chinooks once again won 3–1. The flight home from Pittsburgh was jubilant while remaining cautious.
Later as Faith lay curled up beside Ty’s warm body, next to his heart, she was actually starting to feel a bit optimistic about the future. Somehow, maybe everything would work out. She wasn’t exactly sure how, but once the playoffs were over, maybe they could go away together and find a solution.
She was still thinking about possible solutions the next afternoon when she returned from a meeting with Jules and the Chinooks Foundation. Perhaps their relationship could remain a secret for a few more years.
When she walked into her building, a card waited for her at the front desk. It wasn’t signed but said, “Meet me in Virgil’s office inside the Key Arena at 6:00
P.M.” It was an odd request. Ty would be at the Key getting suited up to play Game Three. She knew he was as cautious as she was about being seen together, and she wondered what would prompt him to want to meet her.
At five thirty, she dressed in her team jersey and figured it had to be something really important, but when she walked into the office that night, it wasn’t Ty sitting in her chair with his feet up on her desk.
“Come in and shut the door,” Landon said, a particularly smug smile flattening his colorless lips.
Faith didn’t move. She looked into the cold eyes of the one person on the planet who truly frightened her. “We don’t have anything to talk about.”
Landon took his feet from the desk and pushed a file toward her. “You’re wrong about that, Layla. We’re going to talk about your boyfriend and how fast you’re going to sell me my father’s team.”
Faith’s heart slammed against her ribs as she moved to the desk and flipped open the file.
Inside were photos of her and Ty. There were four of them, but the most incriminating picture had been snapped the night she’d come down from the penthouse wearing nothing but her raincoat. It had been dark outside, but the photograph clearly showed Ty kissing her while his hand was inside her coat cupping her breast. Her stomach fell and she thought she might vomit all over her desk and the front of Landon’s gray suit.
“I’m thinking I don’t want to pay one hundred and seventy million for the team.”
“And what happens if I don’t sell?” she asked, although she figured she knew the answer.
“After I send the photos to the newspapers, I’ll blow them up and hang them around town with the other billboards of you and the captain.”
She’d figured wrong. She’d thought he’d stop with the threat of sending the pictures to the Seattle Times. The thought of her and Ty like that on a billboard added panic to the fear in her tumbling stomach. “What makes you think I care if people see me like that? I’ve suffered worse humiliation in my life.”
“I don’t think you care. You’re a stripper and have no morals. You’re shameless, but I don’t think you want to humiliate the captain and the rest of the team. Especially when it looks like they might actually win that cup.”
She believed him. She believed he’d do what he said. “Your father always said that you were a little pissant.”
Landon’s eyes narrowed. “My father was a fool with a taste for trash.” He stood. “My lawyers will send the papers to you tomorrow. Sign them and send them back as soon as possible or the price will go down even more. I thought about having you gift the team to me, but God forbid anyone assume we were involved somehow.”
She didn’t care about the money. “What are you going to do with the team?” She couldn’t believe this was happening. Not now. Her throat closed and she licked her dry lips. “Are you going to move it?”
He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary now that the team has had such a successful playoffs season. I’ll keep it in Seattle.” He smiled again. “I can’t say the same for your boyfriend. He’ll be traded as soon as I can work out the details.”
The hits just kept coming. This one right to her heart. “Why? He’s doing exactly what Virgil hired him to do.”
He tilted his head back and looked down at her through his frosty gaze. “I hardly think my father hired Mr. Savage to fuck his wife.”
“You would trade a captain who’s led this team to the final round of the championship just because you hate me?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Savage has become in volved with you, and I don’t want him or you anywhere near my team.”
“Don’t tell me he got tired of you already?”
“He’s decided he wants someone more respectable,” she said, giving Landon the one lie he would believe. “Most men want to have an affair with a stripper. Few want a relationship outside of the bedroom.” She shrugged and pointed to the photos. “Those pictures are old news, Landon. The captain and I are no longer…an item.”
Now it was Landon’s turn to shrug. “Which means the captain is smarter than I gave him credit for. Maybe I’ll keep Mr. Savage. Depends on if he hands me the cup.”
He believed her for now. Perhaps a little too easily, but she guessed she shouldn’t be surprised, considering what he thought of her.
“That doesn’t change your predicament,”
Landon said. “Sign the contracts tomorrow or the photos hit the newspapers the next day.”
The thought of Landon’s hands on the cup made her sicker than she already felt. She had to say something. Do some thing or Landon would win. “You expect me to give up a hundred-and-seventy-million-dollar team? Just like that?” was the best she could come up with. “What? Over some photos that might humiliate Ty Savage and the rest of the team?”
“Yes,” he said, calling her bluff. He moved past her but stopped in the door. “Enjoy your last night in the skybox, Layla. After tomorrow it’s mine.”
Technically it wouldn’t be his until the sale was final in a few months, but she was in no position to argue.
True Love and Other Disasters Page 21
