by Ellis, Aven
Niko, on the other hand, is passionate about hockey. Period. There is no climbing for him now that he’s here.
“So you’re a TV producer, right?” my mom asks.
“Yes,” Niko says, taking another sip of wine. “I got the call on the fly to come down here and take the package after they fired their producer. I hope they like what they see enough offer me a long-term contract.”
“You don’t have one now?” my father asks, incredulous.
Niko clears his throat. “No, unfortunately, I don’t.”
“Oh, Niko, what will you do if they don’t offer you one?” Mom asks, her voice full of concern.
“He’ll be offered one,” I interject. “Niko’s done an amazing job on the telecasts. He’s a brilliant producer, and TATS won’t want to lose him.”
The server comes back to our table, and we place our orders. Since I can’t fathom the thought of eating right now since my stomach is in agony, I select a salad I know I will do nothing more than pick at.
After he leaves, I pray the topic of Niko’s contract is dropped. Please, please, can’t we have stupid talk, like about how the weather is today?
“Of course, producing is step one in your career path, right?” Dad asks.
Shit. I love my dad, but he only sees career trajectories in his line of vision.
“Um, no,” Niko says, a crease forming in his brow. “My lifelong dream has always been to be a professional hockey producer. It’s what I’m passionate about.”
“I think that’s wonderful,” Mom says, her hazel eyes shining brightly at Niko. “Pursue your passion.”
“Exactly,” Niko says, smiling back at her.
I love you, Mom.
“Well, you can pursue your passion and still climb the ladder to the greatest success possible,” Dad says. “Set your goals to be a sports production TV executive. Now that’s where you want to be at the end of the day. I created a similar path for myself, but with the oil and gas industry.”
“Lexi mentioned you were an oil and gas executive,” Niko says.
Mom laughs. “More like the chief financial officer.”
Niko glances at me, his eyes flickering for a second. I swallow hard. He’s getting angrier by the second, and more than anything I want to excuse us from this table so we can talk about it, but that’s not an option.
“Very impressive, sir.”
“Please, call me Andrew,” Dad says, smiling. “But you need to think about a serious plan to support a family in the future.”
“Dad!” I cry, aghast. “We’re dating. Dating.”
“Niko knows that’s important, to provide for the family in the best way possible,” Dad says, pausing to take another sip of chardonnay. “For me, that meant providing so your mother could stay home and paint. So you could go to TCU and not have student debt hanging over your head. And for fun things, like our home in Aspen or New Year’s in Maui.”
Mom is studying my face, and I know she is picking up on the fact that something is wrong.
“I think we have a ways to go before worrying about holidays in Maui,” Mom says easily. “Now, Niko, tell us more about you. Lexi tells us you are from Baltimore, right? And that your parents own a bakery?”
“Um,” Niko says, fiddling with the place setting on the table, “yes. They do.”
I study him. My confident boyfriend now looks embarrassed, as if his parents owning a bakery somehow diminishes him in some way. But why? Why would he even think that?
“Niko worked a lot of hours there after school and all day on weekends growing up,” I say proudly.
“Doing what?” Mom asks.
Niko reaches up and scratches the back of his neck. I’ve never, ever, seen him look so uncomfortable. He didn’t act like this when he told me about it on our first coffee date.
And my heart catches as I realize he doesn’t think his background is good enough to share with my parents.
“Cleaning, baking, taking trash out,” he says softly. “Nothing very exciting, I’m afraid.”
“That’s not true,” I say, determined to let him know I’m proud of him. “You worked a lot of hours and kept your grades up. And no matter what the task was, you did it. Whether it was making baklava or bread or lugging flour sacks that came in for delivery.”
A server comes up with freshly baked popovers, strawberry butter, and tiny cups of chicken consommé. And as soon as we’re served, Niko switches the subject.
“So this is my first winter in Dallas,” he says. “Is it always this mild in December?”
And with that shift, I know the topic is closed. And it will feel like an eternity before we’ll be able to walk out of here and I can explain everything to him.
After spending an hour trying to appear happy and relaxed and picking at my salad while fighting back waves of nausea, we say goodbye to my parents and walk out of the restaurant.
Niko hasn’t touched me. Or said a word to me. Hell, he’s not even looking at me right now.
Finally, I put my hand on his arm to stop him.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, my voice choking up. “This isn’t what you think it is.”
Niko’s eyes immediately flash, and he jerks his arm away in anger. “It’s not? So you’re going to stand here and tell me you didn’t deliberately keep me away from your family because I’m not good enough for them? Or deep down, are you waiting to see if I’m good enough for you?”
“What?” I cry, stunned. “Of course not!”
“Bullshit,” Niko says, his voice low. “Your father couldn’t have made it any clearer that the man who should be with you needs to make a shitload of money. Like player money. For that house in Maui you spend holidays at.”
“You stop right there. My dad thinks differently than you, but what matters to him most is that I’m happy and with a good man. And that is what I want. Not a house in Maui.”
Niko exhales loudly. “Sure. Right. They’ll gladly let the lowly producer with no ambition be a permanent part of your life. That’s crap, and you know it.”
“You know what’s crap, Niko? This whole conversation,” I blurt out as my own anger creeps in. “I didn’t introduce you to them sooner because I wanted time to prepare you for how I grew up. Because I knew you were sensitive about this subject. But right now, you’re the one making money an issue. Not me.”
I’m fighting the lump that has swollen in my throat. Holiday bustle is going on all around us, people filled with joy, and right now I feel I’m losing Niko, the man I love, over something that doesn’t mean anything to me at all.
“How can it not be?” Niko asks. “Your best friend is dating Nate Johansson. Don’t you think they want the same kind of security for their daughter, who has obviously grown up with more money than I’ve ever seen? How can I even compete with what a man in your parents’ social circles can give you? How?”
“Quit projecting your insecurity about yourself onto me,” I yell as angry tears well in my eyes. “I don’t care about money. I fucking don’t care! You matter to me. All I want is you. You should already know that. You know the real me. Or at least I thought you did. But if you think for one second I care about face cream or Bentleys or living in the right neighborhood, you don’t know me at all.”
And then I turn on my heel and storm off.
Chapter 24
The One Online Dating Service Profile Question: What is your take on fighting in a relationship?
My write-in answer: I know it’s a part of every healthy relationship. But right now it hurts . . .
I’m halfway to the nearest exit when I hear Niko come after me.
“Lexi!”
I keep going. I can’t deal with any more fighting right now. I move quickly through the crowd, wanting to lose Niko. I try
to blink the tears away, but everything is still blurry in my eyes.
I push open the entrance and step outside, the slightly chilly December air embracing me as I hurry down the sidewalk. But within seconds Niko has his hand on my arm, forcing me to stop and turn around. As soon as I do, I see nothing but remorse in his eyes.
“Lexi, don’t go. Please. I’m sorry,” Niko says.
Despite my efforts not to cry, tears spill out from underneath my eyes. Niko’s face is etched with anguish, and I know he feels as badly about this whole fight as I do.
“I’m sorry, too,” I manage to say over the lump in my throat.
Niko takes my hand in his and leads me away from the entrance area. We move off to the side, and he lightly brushes his fingertips over my cheeks, wiping my tears away. Then he drops a kiss on my forehead, and I close my eyes the second I feel his warm lips against my skin.
“I’m sorry.” Niko says.
“Me, too,” I say, sniffling. Then I wrap my hands over his. “I’m so sorry you were blindsided today. That was never my intention. I wanted to find the right time to tell you about my family. To be able to reassure you that yes, I come from wealth. I know I’m privileged to have everything I do.
“But,” I say, my voice breaking, “I felt you needed to be reassured that while yes, I grew up with money, it doesn’t define me or what I want. It never has. It never will. I should have told you right away, and that’s my mistake. And I’m so sorry that led to all of this.”
Niko nods, and I see understanding in his eyes. He draws a breath of air before speaking. “I know that’s not you,” he admits. “I would have never guessed your background if you hadn’t told me. You’re real. Genuine. Down to earth. And when I realized your parents have serious money, all I could think of is that once again the kid from Greektown was in over his head.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I don’t think I am,” Niko says softly. “But I know this kid lugging trash out for the bakery never dreamed he would be living in a cool loft apartment in this city. Producing the freaking Dallas Demons, one of the best teams in the league. And most of all, I never dreamed I would be with a woman like you. Sometimes I worry I’ll wake up and all of this will disappear. And the thing that scares me most of all is losing you.”
Emotion fills me. Niko has never been more vulnerable to me than he is right now. He’s scared of losing everything because he doesn’t think he’s good enough to have it, I think, amazed that he sees himself that way.
“You have everything you deserve,” I say softly, squeezing his hands in mine. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
The lightness returns to his eyes. “I don’t know. You seemed pretty determined to get away from me when you stormed off.”
Happiness flickers through me. The fight is over. In a way I want to talk more about his feelings, to make him see that growing up the way he did shaped him into the amazing man he is today. But I think for now it’s best to table that conversation for a later date, as I can tell Niko wants to move on from the topic.
“I was mad,” I say, smiling up at him as I wind my arms around his waist. “I’m a redhead. I’m supposed to get mad like that, you know.”
Niko laughs. “I’ll make a note of that for my Lexi handbook.”
I laugh. He drops a sweet kiss on my lips, and every last bit of worry evaporates from me as he does.
Niko breaks the kiss and smiles at me. “I have a lot of plans for you this week.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Since I’m going to be gone on Christmas, I want you to have a piece of Christmas everyday leading up to it,” Niko says, winding his arms around me. “I know this is your favorite holiday, so I’ve got to do this right, you know.”
Oh, I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him.
“Like what? Tell me,” I plead.
“Nope. But your first Christmas surprise is tonight at my place,” Niko says. “So why don’t we go back inside and shop?”
I nod happily. Niko takes my hand in his and we go back into the shopping center, and thoughts are swirling in my head. We had a fight, but we worked it out. I know he’s insecure about himself in the position he’s in—with both Total Access Total Sports and with me—and I’m determined to make him see his own value.
But for now, I’m happy to simply be with him. And I can’t wait to see what he has up his sleeve for my first Christmas surprise tonight.
“You have to have your eyes closed,” Niko says as he unlocks the door to his apartment.
I giggle. “I have them shut.”
“No peeking.”
“I promise.”
“Nah, I need to be sure.” Niko steps behind me and draws me into his chest, and he places his hand over my eyes. “Okay. Now I know you can’t peek.”
“You’re taking this very seriously,” I tease.
“Oh, I am,” he says. “Okay, walk in. I’ll guide you.”
I start moving, and Niko steers me inside. “I’m taking my hand off your eyes but keep them shut. I have to turn on some lights.”
Niko steps away from me, and I can hear him moving around the apartment.
“You’re not going into producer mode, are you?” I ask. “Like working on a lighting arrangement or anything like that? Will music come on next?”
“Oh, I have lights and music,” Niko declares. “Hold, please.”
I hear him move once again, and then the sounds of A Charlie Brown Christmas fills the room.
I burst out laughing. “Oh, is this a set up to a really sad Christmas tree?”
Niko laughs with me. “Um, yes. Open your eyes.”
I open my eyes and find a tree next to the window, one that is lit with multicolored lights and wrapped with tinsel. Multi-colored round ornaments hang off it, too.
And it’s entirely made out of hockey sticks.
“Niko,” I gasp in delight, “it’s a hockey tree!”
I head over to it, a huge smile passing over my face. Niko took a bunch of sticks and bound them together in a tree shape. As I get closer, I notice they aren’t ordinary sticks, but ones from the Demons themselves, as I see different players’ names on them: Flynn, Johansson, Rochat, Rhinelander . . .
“I got the guys to give me some old practice sticks,” Niko explains. “And I worked on making them into this very Charlie Brown tree.”
I turn to him, touched by all the work he put into this. “It’s not Charlie Brown. I love it. And I can’t believe you made it for me.”
Niko flashes me a grin. “Well, I couldn’t have a live tree because of my travel. And being that we met because of hockey, I thought this was appropriate. We can get an artificial one next year.”
My heart jumps. We. Tree. Next Year.
I move over to him and cup his face in my hands. “We’re keeping this tree.”
Niko smiles as his hands find my waist. “Oh, is that right?”
“Yes. It’s perfect. Thank you.” Then I draw his face toward mine and kiss him, a sweet, lingering kiss that tells Niko exactly how I feel about his present.
I break the kiss and gaze up at him. The glow of the holiday lights illuminates his gorgeous face, and love for him fills every inch of me.
“You’ve convinced me the hockey tree needs to stay,” Niko says, kissing me again.
I melt into him as his lips part mine, and nothing is more romantic than kissing this man next to our first tree.
Niko breaks the kiss and caresses my face with his hand. “We’ll get a more traditional one next year. We’ll have two.”
“I can agree to that,” I say, smiling at him.
“Now, the next part of the holiday,” Niko says, winding his hand around mine and leading me toward the kitchen.
“There’s more
?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says, flipping on the kitchen lights. “We’re baking cookies.”
“We are?” I ask, excitement filling me. I love Christmas cookies, and the idea that this sexy man is content to spend an evening baking them with me touches my heart in a way he could never know.
“Yeah, but not what you think,” Niko says, moving to the sink and washing his hands. “I’m going to teach you to make melomakarona, a Greek Christmas cookie. It’s made with spices and honey and I’m addicted to them. It’s not Christmas unless you have melomakarona.”
My heart stops. Niko is sharing his Greektown past with me. He doesn’t talk about his bakery days much, but right now he’s opened the door and let me into this part of his life.
Emotions swirl within me. This is huge. And I know in this moment how much I mean to him. This man, this amazing man, has fallen for me, just like I have for him.
“I can’t wait,” I say happily, “to make mela—how do you say it again?”
Niko laughs and dries his hands on a towel. “Meh-loh-mah-KAH-roh-nah.”
I laugh. “I’m not going to even attempt that.”
He grins. “You’ll get it someday. I’ll have you saying it right by next Christmas.”
A tingle radiates down my spine at that thought as I think of next Christmas, and all the Christmases afterward that I will spend with this man. A few months ago I was convinced I’d be alone forever. And now I’m standing here, about to bake cookies with a man I see forever with.
Niko moves closer to me. “But there’s something you need to know about this cookie.”
“Oh, you sound very serious about this,” I say, smiling at him.
“I am,” Niko says, his dark eyes sparkling. “This is my family’s recipe. Nobody outside the family knows it. But I’m teaching it to you tonight. So I’m trusting you, baby. This is top secret info I’m about to give you.”
