by Sara Rider
“No—I mean, yes. I love it. It’s exactly what I would’ve done myself if I had time. It’s so perfect it’s almost scary.”
“I told the designer the only piece of art you had in there was that Eiffel Tower paperweight, so she said we should go with a Parisian theme—whatever the hell that means.”
She sniffled. “I love Paris. But you’re not supposed to be doing the grand gesture.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m supposed to be the one begging for forgiveness, not you! All you’ve done is support me and take care of me. I’m the one who’s screwed everything up by trying to protect you. I love you, Nick. I love you so much it hurts.”
His heart swelled with relief and excitement. He could have exploded in that moment. She loved him, and she’d told him with so much conviction, the sincerity bled from her words. “Just hearing you say that is better than any gift or public declaration you could make.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure you’ll feel that way once I explain why I broke up with you in the first place.”
He took her face in his hands and tilted her head up to meet his eyes. “I meant it when I said that nothing matters more to me than you. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Liakos tracked me down the morning I went to show Tyson the recording.”
His blood turned to ice, leaving him hard and brittle, ready to shatter into a million jagged pieces. “Did he hurt you?”
She ran her hands up and down his body, like she was trying to soothe the raging beast inside him. “No. Not like you think. He threatened to turn everything around on you. That girl you helped was going to tell the press that you were the one who hurt her.”
“But the video—”
“Means nothing if an eighteen-year-old girl wrapped up with a sleazeball like Liakos tells the world you’re the real monster. It’ll ruin everything we’ve worked for. Everything you’ve worked for. And the only way I could stop that from happening was to break up with you. He wants you to be miserable.”
A flash of rage exploded in his chest, ripping open the chasm between them once more. “And you agreed that was the best possible outcome for me?”
“What was I supposed to do? Watch your team lose their chance at the Stanley Cup because you’ve been suspended for kicking the shit out of Liakos again? Say good-bye to all the publicity and endorsements we’ve killed ourselves over? Dammit, Nick! I love you, and that’s why I couldn’t let you do that. Why I couldn’t tell you about Liakos, no matter how much it felt like torture. I couldn’t let you throw away your dreams over me.”
“Christ, Jillian. You broke my fucking heart.” Tears slipped out from the corners of her eyes, but the anger he’d buried deeper than a coffin these since their breakup finally splintered his composure. There was no way to hold back what needed to be said. “You know what hurts the most? I’ve tried so fucking hard to change for you. Because I trusted you. I followed your goddamn rules to a fucking T. I haven’t been in a fight in months. I’ve learned to control my temper like a saint. But you can’t see that. You still see me as some out-of-control goon. You lied and pushed me away because you didn’t believe in me the way I believed in you.”
The color vanished from her face. She recoiled like his words were poison. He flexed his fists over and over again, forcing the rush of adrenaline coursing through his body to calm.
“You’re right.” She spoke so quietly, he could barely hear her over the thundering beat of his heart. “I was so focused on fixing things that I didn’t see how I was destroying everything that mattered.”
The anguish in her voice fractured his anger. She covered her mouth with her hand, holding back a sob. His protective instincts kicked into place and he pulled her into a hug. How badly had she been hurting all this time? “If you’d given me the choice, I would have walked away from everything to be with you. I’m not willing to let you go, but I can’t keep this up. No more baby steps. From now on, our relationship comes first or not at all.”
She tucked her head into his chest, letting him hold her until her breath calmed. “I’m sorry, Nick. I never should have doubted you.”
He exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry, too. I fell so fucking hard and fast for you and never gave you the chance to catch up. I didn’t think about what it meant for your career and everything you’ve worked for. But I can’t change that now. There’s no undoing this thing between us.”
“The Vipers, the Stanley Cup—they’re in your blood. I didn’t think it was possible for you to care about anything as much as hockey. But I get it now. Getting your contract extension should have been the biggest coup of my career, but it felt like a hollow victory. Having you as a client means nothing if I don’t have you as my man.”
“Does that mean you’re dropping me as a client?” Losing her as his agent would suck, but if she needed to drop him to restore her professional reputation, it’d be worth it.
She tilted her head back and gave him a small, sweet grin. “Not a chance. We’re so close to signing a contract extension. I’m not letting some greedy, incompetent agent screw it up now. But I am giving up my appeal with the Association.”
His hands tightened at her waist. “Are you sure? Won’t it hurt your business if you aren’t accredited?”
There was nothing but steely resolve in her hazel eyes. “Yeah, but they’re not going to reinstate me if I’m dating a client anyway, and I’m not planning on letting you go again. Ever. I love you too much. It’s time to start looking forward, not back. I hate that there’s still so much corruption in this business, but it’s not up to me to solve every problem. I need to focus on what matters. You matter.”
For the first time in weeks, hope swelled inside him—so visceral and real. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “We’ve been butting heads from the first night we met. It’s what makes us great, but if we’re not careful, it’s what will ruin us.”
She inhaled deeply. “You’re right. I know you hate the deception that comes with my job. I’m so used to my clients expecting me to just fix everything for them. But you’re not just any client. There’s no way to separate our professional lives from our private ones. No more keeping you in the dark about my plans and strategies. We’re stronger together.”
“I like that idea.”
“Good, because it has to go both ways. You can’t always be the protector. The Punisher. Not with me. Sometimes I need you to just sympathize with me, not try to smash your way through every problem.”
“That’s never going to be easy for me when it comes to you, but you’re the most capable, competent person I know. I trust you.” He brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face. “So what do we do about Liakos? He’s going to notice that I’m not miserable anymore.”
Her lips flattened into a grim line. “We figure out a plan to deal with that asshole once and for all.”
“Any ideas on where to start?” Reluctantly he let her go, knowing she needed space to think.
She crossed her arms and drummed her fingertips against her biceps. “One. But it’s a long shot.”
“Well, sweetheart, those are the only kinds of odds we’ve ever had.”
There weren’t a lot of things in the world that made a guy like Nick nervous, but Jillian was actually pacing in front of Tyson’s office. It was the first time he’d ever seen her show any kind of anxiety before a big meeting.
She checked her watch again and swore under her breath. “I don’t think she’s going to show.”
Nick set his hands on her shoulders, massaging away some of the tension. “Then we go to plan B.”
“We don’t have a plan B.”
“Then we’ll wing it.” He kissed her temple and led her to the door, but his confidence faltered the moment he saw how many people were in the room. Not only was the rarely see
n Vipers owner, John Whittaker, sitting in one of the high-backed leather chairs, so was his future son-in-law. Whittaker and Liakos were laughing and chatting like this was a frat party rather than a disciplinary meeting.
Jillian had warned him that when they finally pulled the trigger and sent the video to Tyson, there’d be fallout, but Whittaker and Liakos’s presence was a clear sign things were graver than either of them had expected. Nick’s chances of walking away with a finalized contract extension at the end of this meeting looked as good as his chances of being declared Miss America. Not that there was any sign of worry from Jillian. She’d replaced her nervous expression with a mask of cool serenity the moment they’d walked into the room.
“Good of you to show up,” Tyson said, strain etched into every line of his craggy face. Nick was pretty sure a lot of the guys on the team had been letting the general manager know their issues with Liakos, but Whittaker’s presence could derail all of that. “It’s no secret that there has been a hell of a lot of bad blood brewing between the two of you since the beginning of the season. You can hate each other off the ice as much as you want, but when it starts to affect the team dynamics, it’s unacceptable. Either the two of you find a way to sort out your differences, or we’re going to take punitive action. I don’t think I need to explain how pissed off I’ll be if either of my top players is sidelined at this stage in the play-offs.”
The ultimatum made Nick want to walk out and slam the door behind him, even if Tyson looked uncomfortable saying it. Everyone here knew that Liakos had gotten into a fight with just about every player on the team at some point in the season. The problem was that Nick was the only one who ever hit back.
“Considering my client has refrained from engaging in any further physical altercations, followed the NHL code of conduct to the letter, and earned a record-breaking number of assists this season, I’d say he’s already done every possible thing required of him,” Jillian said. “The video we sent you yesterday, on the other hand, clearly shows a number of ethical and legal violations by Sebastian Liakos. We’ve already done you the favor of not bringing this to the public or the police. I’m not sure what else you could possibly be asking of us.”
Liakos stretched his arms out in front of his chest and cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, I saw that video, too. See, the funny thing is that it was so dark, you could barely tell who was there and what was happening. To me, it looked like a clear case of Salinger going off the rails and attacking me for no reason—which is exactly how I remember it happening. It also looked like he injured that poor young girl who was just trying to get my autograph.”
Jillian’s hand shot out like a bullet, landing on Nick’s arm and silently urging him to stay quiet. As much as it sucked to bite his tongue, he knew she would handle it.
“You have a clever imagination, Mr. Liakos, but we all know that video shows you snorting a mountain of cocaine before attempting to assault the young woman.”
Liakos leaned forward in his seat with a smirk. “Well, maybe we should just ask the girl if that’s how it happened, seeing as she’s the only impartial witness.”
The office door flew open behind them and all conversation ground to a halt.
It took Nick a second to recognize Alexa Whittaker in a fitted gray suit instead of her typical flashy clothes, her famous auburn hair tucked into a neat bun. She flounced into the room clutching a bright pink file folder to her chest, oblivious to the frosty tension in the air. “Hi, everyone. Am I late?”
“Alexa, how many times have I told you not to interrupt me when I’m in a meeting?” Whittaker rose from his desk, pulled out his wallet, and held out a slick black credit card. “Here. Take this and go shopping or something.”
“Oh, I’m not here for money, Daddy.” She pulled up a chair and sat down next to Jillian. “I’m here for Nick’s contract extension discussion. I understand there’ve been some additional complications with Seb’s accusations and figured I could help sort things out. That girl in the video you’re all worked up about? Turns out she’s in my fan club. Actually, she’s the vice president of the Long Island chapter. She also has a thing for sparkly nail art, which is sooo weird.” She turned to Liakos and flipped her hair over her shoulder with a roll of the eyes. “You know what’s also weird? She totally corroborated Nick’s side of the story and is willing to come here and say so.”
Liakos frowned, looking nervous for the first time. “Baby, you know it’s not like that.”
Alexa shrugged her shoulders with fake cheeriness. “That’s what I thought, too. I mean, it could be a total case of Single White Female, right? But then I did some more digging and there’s all these fans in the area with videos and pictures of you cheating on me and indulging your cocaine habit, even though you swore you weren’t into that shit. See?” She opened her folder on the desk, revealing a half dozen glossy-printed, highly incriminating photos. “I know no one here thinks I know anything about hockey, but I’ve been doing some research into the NHL’s code of conduct and I’m pretty sure that regular cocaine use is against the league rules.”
“Alexa,” her father said sternly, “I don’t think I have to warn you how important it is that these photos do not get into the public eye.”
She widened her eyes. “My apologies, Daddy. I guess I wasn’t clear enough. I’m not here as your daughter, or as Seb’s fiancée. I’m here as Ms. Nichols’s new intern.” She turned to Jillian with a smile. “Fortunately, Ms. Nichols and I already discussed this, and we believe it would be completely inappropriate for us to release these photos beyond this room. We can all agree the success of the Vipers needs to be prioritized in these discussions.”
Liakos exhaled audibly.
Alexa gave him a look of mock sympathy. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for any of my fans. They’re very protective of me.”
She slid the giant diamond ring off her left ring finger and threw it at Liakos’s chest.
“Come on, Alexa,” he pleaded.
“Sorry, Seb. If I were you, I wouldn’t watch TMZ tomorrow. Or Fox Sports. Or any kind of media whatsoever.” John Whittaker’s face was so red, he reminded Nick of a stick of dynamite about to explode. With a small shrug, Alexa turned to Jillian. “So, how did I do on my first day?”
Jillian’s lips pulled into a triumphant smile. “Nailed it.”
Liakos jumped to his feet, face contorted with rage. Nick stared him down, shaking his head in warning. The younger player growled and stormed out, slamming the door behind him like a child.
“Well, now that that’s settled, we should probably move on to Nick’s contract extension. You’ll notice we’ve taken the opportunity to make some suggested changes on pages seven and fourteen. Four million a year seems much too low for a player of Nick’s caliber,” Alexa said cheerily, as though she hadn’t just dropped a bomb in the middle of Tyson’s office. She handed out copies of the contract she’d had tucked inside her folder. She looked to Jillian for approval. “If I’d known I’d get to stick it to my ex-fiancé and learn what a photocopier is on my first day, I would have gotten a job ages ago!”
Jillian leaned forward in her seat and laced her fingers together. “So, gentlemen. Let’s talk about Nick’s signing bonus. I think eight million sounds like an appropriate starting figure.”
Epilogue
There was so much adrenaline pumping in Nick’s veins, he could barely register the blur of jerseys whipping around him. Pure gut instinct, forged by decades of practice, controlled his every movement as he played out the last few seconds of game seven. His skin was drenched with sweat but felt like it was on fire as he shut down another attack from the Pittsburgh offense. All he had to do was hold on a little longer.
He was slammed into the boards hard enough to knock the air from his lungs and send a jolt of fire through his limbs as he battled to get the puck out from the corner. Out of the danger zone. The hits came fa
st and furious, but somehow he managed to dig out the puck from the other player’s stick and send it across the blue line. He pushed off on his skates, but a stabbing pain in his ribs nearly flattened him.
Fuck. Definitely bruised, hopefully not cracked.
The buzzer erupted and the sounds of the crowds exploding followed right after. He wrenched off his helmet in time to see a flood of black and green coming toward him. Mike tackled him first, followed by a half dozen other guys, putting so much pressure on his ribs that he thought he was going to pass out from pain. He winced as soon as he had the space to breathe.
“You all right, man?” Mike asked.
“Who the hell cares? I’ve got the entire off-season to heal like a champion.”
“Fuck yeah! I can’t believe we did it! Stanley Cup winners.”
Nick shook his head, still in a state of disbelief. They’d actually done it. After an insane season with more ups and downs than a roller coaster, the Vipers had defied all odds to claim a hard-fought victory. Just about everyone had thought their streak was as good as done when Liakos “voluntarily” checked into a substance abuse program for the remainder of the postseason. It was more than the bastard deserved, and it would probably forever annoy Nick to know Liakos would technically be considered a Cup winner, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now.
There was something much bigger on his mind.
He forced himself to skate to the spot along the boards where he knew Jillian would be, slowed down not only by the tender ache in his ribs but also by the unfamiliar nervousness making his legs shaky and numb.
She was pressed up against the glass, flanked by Ben and Trevor. Seeing her huge, brilliant smile meant more to him in this moment than finally seeing the Cup up close.
“You did it! I knew you could do it!”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He shucked his gloves and placed his hands opposite hers along the glass. Raising his arms made him feel like he’d been hit dead on by a train, but he needed to get as close to her as possible. This victory belonged to her as much as to anyone on the ice. She’d believed in this team—believed in him—right from the beginning. She’d helped the Vipers make history. And while she hadn’t been reinstated to the Association because of their relationship, her client roster had ballooned over the last couple of weeks with defectors from Pantheon Sports Management crawling back to her after Lou Parsons’s arrest. Luckily, Jillian’s decision to hire Alexa had been a stroke of genius. She’d already been promoted to assistant of image and brand development, making room for two more junior staff members to handle the extra workload.
