Going for the Goal

by Sara Rider

  It wasn’t the most conventional party Jillian had ever attended, but it wasn’t the worst, either. Seeing Nick in his element with his buddies was a nice change of pace. He managed to relax with Luke and Mike, laughing and carrying on a casual conversation. Most importantly, no one seemed to care that she was his agent. By the time Claire, whom she’d since learned was an aspiring children’s party planner, brought out the three-level hockey-themed cake, she’d started to feel like maybe her fears about dating Nick were only in her head.

  “Okay, time for presents,” Claire announced once she’d served everyone cake.

  “I told you it was a good idea to bring one,” Jillian whispered to Nick, who responded by squeezing her knee beneath the table.

  “Mine first,” Mike said.

  Luke unwrapped the large rectangular box, revealing a bottle of tequila with a shot glass resting upside down on top. “Shit, this isn’t even the good stuff,” he said with a groan.

  “That’s because it’s not for savoring. It’s for shots.” Mike swiped the bottle, poured a shot, and slid the tiny glass back across the table. “Now drink up.”

  Luke knocked the shot back and winced. “That’s terrible.”

  “Just be happy I didn’t get you a bottle of Primal Man cologne like I originally planned,” Mike said with a teasing look at Nick.

  “Primal Man smells amazing.” Abby slapped her hand across her mouth the instant the words spilled out, cheeks burning red.

  Luke poured a second shot and handed it to her. “You’re next.”

  Abby downed the shot like it was the antidote to a poison burning through her veins and then handed the glass to Claire. Luke unwrapped the rest of the gifts while the bottle made its way around the table. Nick and Mike both passed since they’d driven, leaving Jillian with a curious decision when it was her turn.

  “I still have my glass of wine to finish,” she said meekly.

  Nick bumped her with his knee under the table. “Worried you’re going to start dancing on the table like a freshman on spring break?”

  She raised an eyebrow and lifted the shot glass. “I know how to hold my liquor.” She drank the vile liquid and slid the glass back to Luke. The mix of alcohol instantly went to her head, blurring the edges of her vision.

  “My present next,” Claire said, passing Luke a giant box wrapped with bows and curly ribbons.

  “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Yes, we did. It’s super nice of you to let Abby and me stay with you while she looks for a place to live next fall.”

  Inside the box was every kind of dog treat and toy imaginable. Luke pulled out an ugly rubber toy and examined it. “This is great, sis. Thank you. And thank you, too, Abby.” He squeezed the toy, letting out a high-pitched squeal, and the dogs immediately howled from the other room.

  “They must be hungry. I’ll go feed them,” Abby said.

  “So what’s it like being a sports agent?” Claire said to Jillian. “Do these guys give you a hard time?”

  “These guys? No. But some do. It’s all part of the job,” Jillian responded casually. She’d figured that at some point or other the conversation would turn this way. Most people couldn’t help but be fascinated by a woman in her field.

  “What’s the biggest deal you ever negotiated?”

  She immediately glanced over at Nick. “I don’t usually like talking dollar figures, but Nick’s definitely the most well-known client on my roster.”

  “I heard Utah increased their offer for you to almost eight million,” Claire said, turning her attention to Nick. “Are you holding out for a better offer? You totally deserve one. Personally, I think it’s crazy Phillips has you playing on the third line. It’s like the Vipers don’t even want to make the play-offs. I don’t blame you for looking elsewhere.”

  “Claire,” Luke scolded, “drop it.”

  “Sorry.” She winced. “I’m a bit nosy.”

  “That’s fine. It’s a question a lot of Nick’s fans have,” Jillian said, but the damage was done. The edge inside of Nick was back. He was as still as a statue, but the rise of his chest was visible with each breath, and the room seemed to feel the weight of his brooding. She picked up the chew toy Luke had left on the table next to her and squeezed it in front of Nick, hoping to snap him out of his attitude.

  A bang erupted from the kitchen and all Jillian saw were two bundles of brown fluff propelling toward her. Her chest felt like it had been hit with a missile. Her chair fell backward, knocking her head against the ground. Before she managed to open her eyes, something warm and sticky slicked across her cheek.

  Nick was at her side, easing her off the ground. “Are you all right?”

  She blinked a few times and saw the broken dishes and smears of rainbow icing across every surface. “I’m fine.” At least, she would be as soon as she found a way to erase these last few disastrous minutes from her life.

  Sometimes it doesn’t matter how well things start. It only matters how they end. And tonight’s ending had been nothing short of a catastrophe. Jillian was usually a master at making polite conversation and blending into the environment, but tonight she’d ended up destroying Luke’s birthday and pissing Nick off in the process.

  Not that Nick would admit to being angry with her. From the few words she’d managed to pull out of him during the ride back to his place, he’d claimed he was only upset with Luke for not corralling his dogs better. But his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel wasn’t reassuring.

  She’d had enough of the silent treatment by the time they pulled into his parking lot. “Are you starting to have second thoughts about dating your agent? Because if you are, I’d rather we talk about it sooner than later.”

  He put the car into park and killed the ignition. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m crazy about you? I didn’t jump into this on a whim, and I’m sure as hell not ending it over a ruined dinner party. Hell, the whole thing was kind of funny.”

  She exhaled slowly, overwhelmed by the way he spoke without inhibition or doubt. It was intoxicating. And yet, she couldn’t shake the lingering doubt. “Then what’s bothering you?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  She opened her door and stepped out of the car, too tired to pursue the fight. Nick was like a brick wall when he didn’t want to talk.

  “Come here,” he said, meeting her behind the car with his arms open.

  She leaned into his chest and melted into the embrace.

  “Maybe I just don’t like seeing you get so many head injuries.”

  She laughed. “Says the guy who plays hockey for a living.”

  “You knew I was a hypocrite when you met me. And you also know I’m incapable of keeping my hands off you, so let’s go upstairs before I strip you down and take you over the trunk of my car.”

  A shiver rippled down her spine. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad plan.”

  He nipped her earlobe. “I already gave the security guards their yearly bonus.”

  He kept his arm around her waist as he tugged her toward the elevator, which was the only thing that kept her from falling down when her foot skidded out from under her. She bent down to pry the small piece of paper off her heel and froze.

  It was a business card. One with raised gold lettering against a black backdrop she recognized all too well. Lou Parsons had always had gaudy taste.

  “Everything all right?” Nick asked tentatively.

  Her heart thundered in her chest. “What the hell is this?”

  20

  Nick had earned Jillian’s wrath a few times before, but this was the first time he’d made her feel betrayed, and the hurt etched onto her beautiful face nearly gutted him. “Parsons stopped by before the party. I told him to get lost and threw his card away. The only reason I didn’t say anything was because I didn’t want to ups
et you.”

  She straightened her spine and took a step backward, out of his arms. It was a small step, but it made him feel like she was putting miles of distance between them. “What did he tell you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yeah, it does. Otherwise you wouldn’t have kept it a secret in the first place.”

  Nick scrubbed his hand along his jaw. The obnoxious things Parsons had said were too vile to repeat, but being less than honest with Jillian right now still seemed like the less desirable option. “Parsons said exactly the kind of bullshit you’d expect. That you’re playing a reckless game with my career and I should drop you and sign with him because he has some kind of magical friendship with Allan Tyson. The reason I didn’t tell you any of this is because I know he’s full of crap and it was the last thing you needed to be thinking about right before our first date.”

  “Instead, you kept it to yourself and let me think I was somehow screwing up in front of your friends and ruining your night. The thing is, your plan might’ve worked if you hadn’t been so tense all evening, but you were, and that means there’s a part of you that believed him.”

  “You say you have it under control, and I believe you. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, my friends liked you, and you look adorable with rainbow icing in your hair.”

  She bit her lip. “My strategy for keeping you with the Vipers isn’t bullshit. It’s the only thing that might work. But that doesn’t make it a guarantee. There’s still a chance you’ll be traded at the end of the season.”

  “What kind of odds are we talking about?”

  “Seventy–thirty. If Liakos screws up like I think he will. Otherwise, it’s a lot worse.”

  He swore. The idea of leaving New York had been bad enough when it was just about him and his career. Now he had Ben to think about. And Jillian. Disappointing either one of them was too heavy a weight to carry. For the first time in his life, he was forced to accept the fact that he might never win the Stanley Cup. He wasn’t ready to retire, but what kind of choice did he have? Could he give up his life here for a few more seasons with a team whose prospects were so thin, they were practically invisible?

  “I know that sounds bad, but I swear it’s the only chance we have. Parsons might have something on Tyson that could force his hand, but it sure as hell isn’t friendship. And the kind of game he plays will only end badly for you. I’ve seen it happen too many times.” Her gaze drifted away from his, as though holding eye contact was too difficult. Her jaw twitched, like words were storming inside her mouth. “Look, if you don’t trust me as your agent anymore, that’s okay. You have to do what’s right for you.”

  “That’s not what I want,” he said so sharply she winced. “But I get it now. I understand why you’re worried about making our relationship public when there are guys like Parsons out there who will try to drag you down any chance they get. I’m just sorry I didn’t believe you earlier.”

  “Are you saying you want to break up?”

  God, she was tough, but there was a faint tremor in her voice that hurt worse than any body check he’d taken over the years. “No. I’m saying I want you to win that election. But we can lie low if that’s what you want. You can have both tickets to the Sport Fitness Awards.”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. “That’s not what I want. I’m tired of hiding like a coward because men like Parsons use these stupid double standards against me. Besides, the polls close the same day as the awards, and I want to celebrate with you by my side, as my man. Now take me upstairs, because I’m in a fighting mood and I want to claim what’s mine.”

  Finally.

  “My boobs have never been more cherished.”

  Jillian was inclined to agree with Jaime, who was presently running her hands along the bright pink material encasing her ample chest in front of the large dressing room mirror. The cut of the dress was deceptively simple, but it fit perfectly, making her look more glamorous than a movie star.

  “And the sequins! It’s like Genevieve knows me deep down to my soul,” Jaime continued, mesmerized by her appearance. “It’s perfect.”

  “I’d say this is the start of a very successful partnership,” Jillian said, filled with the kind of exhilaration that came only from seeing one of her ingenious strategies end in triumph. Genevieve’s ability to construct clothing for all body types was something that set her apart from other designers, and Jaime was the perfect celebrity to bring the emerging brand into the public eye.

  “I’m inclined to agree,” Genevieve said with equal satisfaction as she slipped inside the doorway. “That dress is stunning on you, just as I intended, but you’re more than welcome to try on any of our off-the-rack gowns if you prefer.”

  “I can’t imagine ever taking this off. But maybe Jillian should try something on, now that she’s coming with me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Genevieve clapped her hands excitedly.

  “Last-minute change of plans.”

  “So last-minute you couldn’t give me some notice to make you a dress?”

  “Nick Salinger moves fast,” Jaime said with a wry smile. “In more ways than one.”

  Jillian pointed her finger at Jaime. “Don’t think I won’t hurt you just because you’re in that beautiful dress.”

  “No one is touching anyone, in or out of that dress,” Genevieve interrupted. “However, I have another gown that Nick will absolutely want to touch you in.”

  Within a few minutes, Jillian found herself sheathed in a flowing, textured lavender gown that skimmed her delicate curves. It wouldn’t stand out the way Jaime’s bright pink dress would, but it’d turn heads with its quiet elegance.

  Genevieve fussed with the draping of the fabric while Jillian stared at her reflection in awe. “I’d planned to release it with my fall collection, but I’m going to make an exception for you. Because you’re my best friend. My best friend who didn’t even bother to tell me about her upcoming date with one of the hottest guys on the planet.”

  Jillian winced. Yeah, they were both super busy lately, but she really didn’t have a good excuse for not calling Genevieve and telling her all about her budding relationship with Nick.

  “I’m pretty sure Nick’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this,” Jaime said, having changed back into her jeans and T-shirt. “Any man would.”

  Jillian’s reflection in the mirror nearly stole her breath away. “It’s too much. I can’t accept this.”

  “Yes, you can,” Genevieve said while pinning the straps. “Nick Salinger is one of the most famous men in the NHL, which means his date will be photographed by every news outlet at the event. As long as you promise to bring the dress back in one piece, it’s definitely a win-win.”

  Borrowing a gorgeous dress for a date at a glamorous awards show with Nick was a Cinderella story come true. So why did she suddenly feel like she was standing in quicksand?

  “I know my design is breathtaking, but you look like you’re about to have a full-blown panic attack.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Yes, you are,” Jaime said with her arms crossed. “You’re about thirty seconds away from passing out in a pool of your own sweat, forcing me to slap your cheeks while Genevieve shoves smelling salts under your nose.”

  Jillian’s jaw clenched. Panic wasn’t something she was used to feeling. She prided herself on being cool under any circumstance, but she was nervous as hell about stepping out publicly with Nick. “Fine. I’m panicking a little. But if either of you ever say a word of this to anyone I will strap you down inside a kindergarten class, hand out safety scissors, and tell the kids it’s haircut day.”

  The conspiratorial look that passed between her two friends was not something Jillian wanted to deal with right now.

  “Come on.” Jillian sighed. “Let’s see if you
have any accessories that will make Jaime and me extra fabulous tomorrow night.”

  She changed out of the dress to allow Genevieve to take care of some last-minute alterations, then wandered to the front of the store with Jaime to check out the impressive display behind the jewelry counter.

  The jingling sound of the door opening a few moments later drew Jillian’s attention away from a gorgeous set of emerald drop earrings that were probably worth more than her annual income. The woman who walked through the door was the last person on earth she wanted to run into: Alexa Whittaker.

  A small group of women with impossibly fake tans trailed after the young, auburn-haired socialite like a band of lost puppies. “Okay, ladies, spread out and find the perfect bridesmaid dress. Don’t forget, the wedding theme is Sparkle Wonderland. Think classy, not trashy.”

  One of Alexa’s orange minions pulled a pale yellow dress from the rack. “How about this?”

  “Oh my god, Tawny. You know that Seb hates yellow. Besides, that color looks hideous on you.”

  Jillian didn’t react when Jaime rolled her eyes with impressive exaggeration, keeping her focus on an elegant pendant necklace. She doubted the young socialite would recognize her, but she didn’t want to risk causing a scene in the middle of her best friend’s store.

  Genevieve emerged a few minutes later with Jillian’s gown draped over her arm. “I’ve adjusted the straps and the dress should fit you perfectly now.”

  Unfortunately, the divine lavender creation caught Alexa’s attention, too. She charged across the store to admire it up close, grabbing the bottom and letting the delicate material run through her fingers. “That’s the one I want! It’s exactly what I want for my bridesmaids. Tawny, come try this on.”

  “Oh no.” Jillian tried to snatch the dress away, but Alexa held firm to the hem. “This one’s mine. You’ll have to find another dress.”

  “Nonsense. This dress is perfectly on-brand for my wedding and I always get what I want,” Alexa said, giving the dress a slight tug.