Save the Date (Chicago on Ice Series Book 3)

Home > Romance > Save the Date (Chicago on Ice Series Book 3) > Page 19
Save the Date (Chicago on Ice Series Book 3) Page 19

by Aven Ellis


  “I have time to show you the intermission entertainment,” Nana says from her chair. “Livy, flip to the DVR. I have it queued up.”

  “It better not be porn,” Mrs. Adams says.

  “It’s better than porn,” Nana says. “It’s Magnum, P.I.”

  “What is that?” Aubrey asks.

  Nana dramatically puts her hand over her heart. “Your lack of education is going to raise my blood pressure.”

  “It’s an old show from the eighties,” Livy explains, clicking the remote.

  “An old show with the sexiest man alive,” Nana counters. “Trust me, some things never go out of style.”

  The screen changes, and we are treated to the image of a man swimming in the ocean. A young Tom Selleck emerges from the water and struts to shore, shirtless.

  “Freeze!” Nana cries gleefully.

  Livy freezes on Tom in all his broad-chested glory leaning against a rock.

  Oh. Ohhhhhhhh.

  I completely get it.

  The man is hot.

  “You won’t mind if we watch a bit at intermission?” Nana asks mischievously.

  “Nope, I’m good with this,” I say.

  “Totally fine,” Aubrey adds.

  “Definitely,” Taylor agrees.

  Nana laughs. “I love my girls.”

  “And we love you,” Livy says, turning the TV back to the game.

  Warmth comes over me. The bond between all of us in this room is so strong. We love and support each other. These women will always be here for me. And I will always be there for them.

  Our bond is unbreakable.

  Just like the one I have developed with Luca.

  I shift my attention to the puck drop, and as the Miami players take control of the puck and skate toward Luca, I know the feelings I have for him are just as strong. He’s there for me in a way no man ever has been. I love this man, and I have a feeling he’s falling in love with me, too.

  And just like with my friends, I know there is no problem we can’t overcome if we share the truth with each other.

  I’m sure of it.

  Chapter 28

  Deliver on all promises made . . .

  “Does the huge smile on your face have anything to do with a certain goalie?” Aunt Suzanne asks.

  “What?” I ask, lifting my eyes from my laptop. It’s Wednesday morning, and I’m putting the final touches on my presentation before meeting with Kristine today.

  Aunt Suzanne walks over and leans against Katie’s desk, which is next to mine. Katie has gone with Amy to a venue showing for one of Amy’s clients. Charlotte is onsite at a corporate retreat, so it’s just me and Aunt Suzanne this morning.

  “You look so happy,” Aunt Suzanne says, studying me. “I figured you might be chatting on the sly with Luca.”

  “No, nothing to do with Luca,” I say. “I’m working on my presentation for the equestrian party, and I’m really excited about it. Come here.”

  Aunt Suzanne moves over to my chair and leans down to study my laptop.

  “These are all the ideas I have for an equestrian cocktail hour,” I say. “Kristine is the nicest lady. She loves her equestrian community, and I wanted to capture that passion for the celebration. I want to use stirrups as tea light candleholders and trophy vases to display floral arrangements. My brain won’t shut off on this one.”

  Aunt Suzanne straightens. “Sweetheart, maybe your brain won’t shut off because you love horses so much.”

  I turn around see Aunt Suzanne has a thoughtful expression in her toffee-brown eyes, the same ones I inherited from my dad’s side of the family.

  “Collins, I never pushed you on what you wanted to pursue as a career,” she says slowly. “Secretly, I was overjoyed when you went into event management and asked if you could intern with me. You know I love you as the child I was never able to have, and selfishly, it was a way for me to be in your life as you continued to grow up.”

  Her words touch my heart. Aunt Suzanne and Uncle Craig tried everything to conceive a child, but couldn’t. It was too unpleasant for Mom to tell me herself, so I learned it from Aunt Suzanne when she wrote me a gorgeous letter when I graduated from high school. In the letter, she also told me she was as proud of me as anyone ever could be. She talked about how, while she wasn’t blessed with her own child, she was blessed with me and was forever grateful that I was a part of her life.

  “What do you mean? You are stuck with me for eternity,” I declare. “I love you like a mother, and I always will.”

  She smiles at me, and I feel nothing but love for this amazing woman who has been part of my life ever since I can remember.

  “I see how you light up when you talk about horses,” Aunt Suzanne continues. “I can’t help but wonder if you should be working with them instead of with me.”

  I know I should confide my dream with her, but I can’t. She would encourage me to find a way to follow it, and that would leave her in the lurch business wise. I’m right behind Charlotte in events, and Suzanne’s Soirées continues to grow. I’m needed here.

  More to the point, I don’t see a way for me to follow my dream and pay my bills, period.

  There is no point in upsetting Aunt Suzanne with the truth. None. I smile brightly as I shield my dream from her.

  “Aunt Suzanne, I love working for you,” I say truthfully.

  “I know, but what about horses?” Aunt Suzanne asks.

  “You’re stuck with me unless you fire me,” I say, evading her question.

  Aunt Suzanne lets out a sigh. “I know that tone. I’ll butt out. Finish up your proposal and come back with a signed contract for me, okay?”

  “I will,” I say, smiling at her.

  As she heads back to her desk, guilt consumes me. I want to share my dreams with Aunt Suzanne, but if there’s zero chance of it happening, why upset her with the truth?

  Or is this a move my mother would make? Sweeping any conversation that might result in unpleasantness away?

  I glance down at my phone. Luca had morning skate at the Tampa Bay arena this morning, and he has a game tonight. I talked to him briefly after the Miami game and only texted yesterday. He had practice, then games to watch, and then dinner with the backup goalie, Justin Wilson. By the time Luca got back, we had a quick video chat before he said he needed to sleep.

  I was disappointed we didn’t get more time together. I know the season is just starting and I know the team is in bonding mode, but I need him, too.

  “I’m going to Starbucks,” Aunt Suzanne says, picking up her Louis Vuitton purse. “Can I interest you in a pumpkin spice latte?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I say. “Oh, and a piece of pumpkin bread if they have it. I’ll pay you back.”

  “You will pay me nothing. Be back in about ten,” Aunt Suzanne says, sailing out the door.

  Left with complete privacy, I decide to call Luca.

  One ring . . . two rings . . .

  “Hey, Cinderella,” Luca says.

  Hearing his rich, deep voice is exactly what I need.

  “Hey, you, I’m glad you picked up.”

  “I don’t have much time, but I’ll always pick up for you. What’s up?”

  I bite my lip. Once again, he doesn’t have time.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something, but I’ll need more than a few minutes,” I say.

  Luca is silent for a moment.

  “Um, okay, maybe we can talk after the game tonight when I’m on the bus? I’ve got to eat and take a nap now, and when I wake up, I need to get into game mode.”

  Frustration fills me.

  “Luca, I haven’t asked you for much. Can’t you carve out some time for me right now? Beckett and Landon talk to Aubrey and Livy mo
re than you talk to me, so I know you can.”

  Wow. I can’t believe I said that. Normally, I’d say it’s fine, I understand, and hang up upset with not only him, but with myself for not being truthful.

  But Luca makes me brave enough to bring up the unpleasant things. I love him. Love means believing in the other person enough to speak the truth.

  “Collins,” he says, his voice taking on an edge, “I told you my life is like this. I promised you I’d do the best I can. You know I want to talk to you more than I do and want to see you more than I do. Are you questioning that?”

  My stomach knots.

  “No, I’m not questioning what you want,” I say, pushing myself to stand strong. “But this isn’t keeping your promise, Luca. I’m questioning why you can’t make more time for me like Beckett and Landon do for their girlfriends.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Compare me to Beckett and Landon. They play completely different positions than I do. My job is to be able to read, on the ice, what shots each and every player will likely take and successfully make saves when they do. Do you know how much work it takes to study that and prepare? This is my first time facing these teams. The course of a game is determined by what I do—or don’t do—in the net. So yes, I have a shitload of preparation to do, and I need to focus in order to do it.”

  “And I’m a distraction, right?” I say, hurt filling my heart.

  “I’ve never considered you a distraction,” Luca snaps.

  For the first time since we’ve been together, I hear anger in his voice.

  “Well, you’ve made me feel like one,” I say, and I’m shocked to hear my own voice is laced with irritation.

  Luca says nothing. Absolutely nothing, and after years of repressing emotions, I get angrier with each second he remains silent.

  “I need to eat lunch,” Luca eventually says. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Right,” I say, my voice thick with sarcasm. “Later, of course. You let me know your availability, and I’ll set up a meeting request in Connectivity when it’s convenient for you to discuss our relationship.”

  As soon as the words come out, I wish I could take them back. I sound bitter and mean and this isn’t the productive, adult conversation I wanted to have with the man I love.

  “Luca, I’m sor—” I begin to apologize, but Luca cuts me off.

  “I won’t talk to you when you’re like this,” Luca says bluntly.

  “Then don’t,” I say, my voice shaking.

  “Fine.”

  “Fine!” I bark out.

  I hang up on him and toss my phone across my desk.

  I’m shaking, a mixture of upset feelings and anger taking over in equal force.

  I had a fight with Luca.

  I know the topic needed to be addressed and I know I did the right thing, but I probably should have waited until he got back so we could have a face-to-face conversation. If I could have explained why I want more time with him, maybe we could have found a way that was beneficial for both of us.

  Dammit. Where was rational Collins a few minutes ago?

  Ugh. I put my head in my hands and close my eyes. I hate being mad at him. I hate that I upset him. At least I know it won’t impact his game. Luca is a professional, and he’ll put aside his feelings and turn out another stellar performance tonight.

  But we were ugly with each other. Things were said and feelings were hurt. We shared real, imperfect emotions and we’ll work through it later. I’ve been taught over and over to avoid unpleasant feelings at all costs, but that’s not real life.

  This is.

  People disappoint each other and they hurt each other, but if two people love each other and communicate, they can get through it.

  I lift my head from my hands. I know Luca cares about me deeply. He’s the most determined person I’ve ever met, and I know we’ll talk to each other later tonight and apologize. We can work through this and find a way to spend more time together.

  I let go of my anger and return to my proposal, doing exactly what Luca would do: focus on the task at hand.

  Tonight, we’ll set everything right again.

  ~ ~ ~

  “What are you thinking of ordering?” Mom asks, pausing to take a sip of her tea. “I should try something new, but I can’t resist the Dover sole. It’s so hard to choose, isn’t it?”

  After my fight with Luca, I buried myself in my proposal. My Google calendar had to remind me I had lunch plans with my mom at her favorite bistro on the Gold Coast at eleven. I couldn’t cancel, knowing she drove out from the suburbs to meet me.

  But ugh, the timing is crap. I’m in a horrible mood, and I might flip a table if she tries to tell me to turn lemons into lemonade. If she insists there’s always sunshine after the storm or to turn my frown upside down, I will explode.

  “Mmm, yes,” I murmur, staring blankly at the options in front of me. “I think I’ll have a salad and the quiche of the day.”

  I glance up, and Mom is smiling brightly at me. “So, how are things with you, honey? All good?”

  If I were with Aunt Suzanne or any of my friends, the fight would be the first thing I’d talk about. If I were to tell Mom I had a fight with Luca and hung up on him, Mom would recoil.

  Normally, I’d put on my happy face and stick to subjects Mom enjoys. Pleasant things like her gardening clubs, her reading group, or a new coat I saw that I’d love to own.

  But I don’t want to. Not today.

  It’s funny that even though I’m mad at Luca, he’s the one who has given me the support to start expressing my true self.

  And that’s what I decide to do.

  “I had a fight with Luca this morning,” I say, reaching for a piece of rustic french bread that is in a basket on our table.

  “Oh, Collins,” Mom says, her facial expression changing to one of sadness. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure it will be fine in no time.”

  No follow up question from Mom. Of course, she doesn’t want to know why. Fights are unpleasant. Victoria Brady doesn’t do unpleasant.

  “I’m sure it will, but I’m upset,” I say as I spread fleur del sel whipped butter on the bread.

  “Well, let’s not let it ruin lunch,” Mom says. A sigh escapes her lips. “You never had fights with Gabe.”

  Oh, my God. I should sit on my hands to resist making my fantasy of table flipping a reality.

  “I’d rather fight with Luca than be with a man I don’t love,” I say bluntly.

  Mom blinks. I can tell she does not approve of the turn the conversation has taken.

  “I see.” She picks up her teacup and takes a sip.

  Silence.

  Oh, fantastic.

  Mom puts the fine china cup down and clears her throat.

  “Anyway, on to brighter things,” she says. “I’m thinking of remodeling the kitchen. Let me get my phone and I’ll show you some ideas I have. I started a whole Pinterest board for it.”

  So much for having a conversation about my problem.

  I knew it would end this way. I’m not surprised.

  What is surprising, though, is that I did it. Normally, I would have avoided the topic and pretended everything was fine.

  But, today, I was real.

  Because of Luca, I think, a pit forming in my stomach.

  As Mom eagerly shows me the ideas she’s pinned, my thoughts are elsewhere.

  And they’ll stay there until I talk to Luca later tonight.

  ~ ~ ~

  I step into my apartment and lean my umbrella against the wall. Today was such a bittersweet day.

  I set my tote on the kitchen table, and then I take off my rain boots, dropping them on
the floor next to the door. I slip out of my coat and drape it over the back of the chair.

  I turn on the TV and switch the channel to the Buffaloes’ game against Tampa Bay that started a half-hour ago. I have it recorded so I can start from the beginning, but I can’t help but sneak a peek to see what’s going on.

  Commercial.

  I drop down on the sofa, anxiety filling me. Luca hasn’t texted me, and to be fair, I haven’t texted him either. My anger is gone. Now, all I want to do is tell him I’m sorry. I want to hear his voice, apologize for my sarcasm, and tell him I miss him. He needs to know my intentions are simply to have more time with the man I care so much about.

  Despite the cloud hanging over me, the sun was able to peek through when I had my meeting with Kristine Sharp about the equestrian-themed cocktail hour. She loved the ideas I presented, accepted the contract, and gave me a fantastic budget to work with. She kept telling me how impressed she was with my organization and attention to detail, which made me feel fantastic.

  It felt so natural meeting in Kristine’s home office, which overlooks a pasture with grazing horses. Even though we were doing business, I was some place I love. I could envision working there, being able to look up from my computer and see horses outside and know everything I was doing made people and animals happy.

  The game comes back on, and I shift my attention to the face-off on Luca’s end. Landon steals the puck and skates toward the opposite end, but the Buffaloes turn the puck over en route. Tampa Bay comes roaring back, and one of the players gets ready to take a shot.

  The next thing I know, the puck has hit Luca on the mask.

  I gasp along with the crowd.

  And watch in horror as Luca collapses face-first on the ice.

  Chapter 29

 

‹ Prev