Center of Gravity: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (An Ice Tigers Hockey Romance Book 2)

by Isabella Cassazza

  “Listen, I know it’s exciting news, and we’re thrilled, but like I said before, we’re not ready to share the news with everyone. Please keep it to yourselves for now. I’m rather tired,” I say.

  “Of course. Your secret is safe with us. Don’t you worry. Can we drive you home?” Lily stands up, and Tyler follows suit.

  “I’ll take care of her.” Matt follows their example.

  “We would love to have you over for dinner sometime.” Tyler shakes my hand.

  “Our captain is a great cook.” Matt turns to me and then back to Lily and Tyler. “We’ll let you know.” He hugs them both.

  Leaning back on the couch, I watch as they leave the office, all energy drained from my body.

  “Just for the record, you told them we’re getting married.” Matt plops down beside me.

  Can’t argue with that. I might have just put the icing on our nonexistent wedding cake. Congratulations, Emilia. You just shoveled your own grave. Happy fake marriage. Whenever this event will occur.

  Chapter 11

  Emilia

  I’m replying to emails when a knock sounds on my half-closed door. “It’s open.”

  “A bit dark, isn’t it?” Gianluca puts his head through the crack.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  “How come you’re here? And how did you get past the security?” I push my chair back and walk over to him.

  He bends forward and kisses me on the cheek before I can turn away. “Mary was nice enough to let me in. She wanted to announce me, but since we know each other so well…. Nice view.” He motions to the big window front. “So, that’s what you do these days. You watch big men push a rubber disc over ice.” He crosses his arms over his chest and watches the team doing sprints.

  Hardly ever. “If you must know, I’m in a lot of meetings, and whenever I’m in here, I mostly answer emails. Why are you here?” Following his example, I cross my arms over my chest as well.

  “Your grandfather and I thought it would be a good idea to see what’s going on with our hockey team.” He turns to me with a smug smile on his face.

  Our hockey team? Only when they want something. “I see. Please have a look around.” I open my arms and motion around.

  “I will. But for now, I’d like for you to introduce me to the team and then have lunch with me. There are a few things we need to discuss. And tonight, we’ll watch a hockey game, won’t we?” He winks.

  I’m not sure I want to find out what he wants to discuss with me, but the last thing I need is him complaining about me, so I get my purse and lead him down to the arena.

  The team is now practicing shots at the goal, but Coach Benning sees us walking over and blows his whistle. I wait for everyone to skate over before I speak.

  “Hi, everyone. We have a surprise guest for tonight. Please meet Gianluca Marini. He is the one in charge of the RAVELLIS launch and wanted to get to know the Ice Tigers.” My eyes find Matt, whose frown would scare children.

  “Thank you, Emilia. We are pleased with how things are going here. I’ll be here for the next few days to set up the next steps for our involvement with the team, and I’m looking forward to watching you play tonight. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Emilia and I have a lot to discuss.” And with that, he puts his arm around my shoulders and drags me out of the arena. Great. Matt will be thrilled. I wait until we’re out of sight to free myself from his tight embrace.

  “Are you crazy?” I give him what I hope is a murderous glance.

  “Cara mia, we are old friends, aren’t we?” He caresses my cheek with one finger before I turn my head away.

  “Don’t touch me.” I glare at him.

  He lifts his hands in the air. “Okay, okay. Let’s grab something to eat. I’m starving.”

  I’d rather not, but I need to hear what he has to say if it concerns the team. I call Mary and instruct her to reserve a table at Il Sole and call a car for us. Thirty minutes later, we arrive at our destination.

  “An Italian restaurant, really? I thought I would get a burger.”

  “You should’ve said what you wanted.” I walk inside, leaving him standing alone.

  Giovanni hugs me, and when Gianluca steps inside, he leads us to a separate room.

  “Nice place. I reckon the food is great?” Gianluca puts his hand on the small of my back. Why is he so touchy-feely today?

  “It is.” I shrug away from his touch.

  “What can I get you to drink?” Giovanni is ready to take our order.

  “Do you have a rich Chianti classico?” Gianluca asks.

  “Naturalmente. My brother owns a vineyard near Florence. We got a fresh delivery last week.” Giovanni beams.

  “Perfect. We’ll take that.”

  “Actually. Just some water for me please.” Giovanni nods and leaves us.

  “You’re not drinking?” Gianluca’s eyebrows squish together.

  “I’m working. Why are you here?” I lean back against the chair and cross my arms over my chest.

  “Aren’t you happy to see me? It must be lonely over here.” He reaches over the table and pulls at my fingers to grab my hands, but I won’t let him.

  Once, I may have been impressed by his cocky smile, but character can ruin a person’s physical appeal. “Not so much.”

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  Now, we’re getting to the point. It’s typical Gianluca to always want something. “What kind of proposition?”

  “You could come back to Italy and work at the headquarters again….” He leans toward me and reaches for my hands.

  I dodge his hand and move away from him. “Why would I want that?”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t really want to be here, managing a hockey team, when you could be in Rome working in high fashion.”

  “I have hockey blood running through my veins.” I lean back in my seat.

  “We could manage the company together.”

  “Why would I want that?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “This team, it’s important to you, isn’t it?” His smile widens.

  “And?” I raise an eyebrow. What does he want from me?

  “RAVELLIS sales are already dropping in the U.S. market. The figures are okay, but they could be better. Maybe we don’t need the team. Maybe it isn’t the right marketing tool.” His fingers trail over the napkin in front of him while he speaks, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles.

  “What does the team have to do with me being back in Rome?” I bob my knee underneath the table to keep myself from screaming at him to tell me what he wants.

  “I could persuade your grandfather to keep the team. If….” His fingers caress the cloth again.

  The slimeball. Now we’re getting to the point.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to marry me.” He stares me right in the eyes. A cold stare. A calculated one.

  I gasp. Wow, two marriage proposals in three weeks, when I didn’t receive a single one in the last twenty-six years. The problem is, none of them are real. What does it say about me that one man wants to fake-marry me because I’m pregnant and the other one wants to fake-marry me to become the CEO of a company? My family’s company. What happened to marrying for love? Is that not happening anymore? Because if it isn’t, I didn’t get the memo.

  “I’m not marrying you. I think I made that clear once.” I look straight back into his eyes.

  He stands up and sits down next to me, trapping me against the wall in the process, and takes my hands in his. “Think, Emilia, we could be good together. We could lead the Ravelli Group to greatness.”

  I pull my hands out of his embrace. “I don’t want to marry you.”

  “Then say goodbye to your team.” He crosses his arms over his chest, looking like the spoiled child he is.

  “The team is good for us. It’ll help us to establish our brand over here. People love hockey in Boston. It’s like soccer in Rome. If we sell the team after mere months, our reputa
tion overseas will be forever damaged. And you don’t need to marry me to become the new CEO. My grandfather likes you. He thinks highly of you. I don’t want the CEO position. It’s yours.”

  “I want more than just the position.” Of course he does, but I refuse to be a pawn in his game.

  “So, become a partner. Talk to my grandfather. There are other ways.”

  “Maybe there are. But marrying you is the most secure one. Marry me, and we’ll keep the Ice Tigers. I’ll make sure of that.”

  “I don’t think so.” I lean back in my chair.

  “What makes you so sure?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

  I want to murder the bastard. Breathe in and out. And in. And out. “I can always talk to my grandfather.”

  “And since when would he listen to you?” He leans back in his chair, crossing his legs in the process.

  His words shouldn’t sting, but they do. I suppress the bitter feelings threatening to make their way to the surface.

  I bend forward and look him straight in the eyes. “Since I’ve recorded this whole conversation on my phone, and I think he’d be interested in you blackmailing me. And before you even think about taking the phone out of my purse, I’ll scream down the place if you try.”

  His nostrils flare, but then he whistles. “So, the princess has grown up.”

  “She had to. And she had great teachers.” We stare at each other without saying a word until a knock on the door sounds and Giovanni steps inside with our beverages. “Are you ready to order your food?”

  “I am.” I lean back against my seat. This time I’m the one with the smug smile on my face.

  “You really have grown up.” Gianluca takes the seat across from me again after Giovanni has taken our orders.

  I nod. “Like I said, I had to.”

  “Good for you. Bad for me.” He shakes his head. “Listen, Emilia, I wasn’t kidding when I said the sales dropped, but you may have a point about selling the team or not investing in the team so shortly after we bought it. We need to increase sales, and we need you for that. You need to go out with a few actors; we can put someone else in charge of the hockey team.”

  First, he wants to marry me. Now he wants me to go out with other men? What is wrong with him? I shake my head. “Not going to happen.”

  “Come on, you never had a problem with that.”

  Crap, what am I going to say? If I tell him I’m seeing someone, he’s not going to let it go until I tell him everything. And Matt and I still haven’t figured out the details about our upcoming nuptials. With the team being on two long road trips, me attending evening events accompanied by Rob, and organizing another photo shoot this time with the whole team, we haven’t had time to meet in private again. Maybe our fake marriage will work if we’re never going to see each other, apart from the home games.

  Matt texted me twice while on the road, but it was just to ask me about the babies. That’s all he cares about. Our little ones. Not that I blame him. They’re the most precious gift I’ve ever received. And they are reason enough not to go out with anyone. Evening appointments are hard for me these days. While my nausea has nearly disappeared, I’m tired all the time now.

  I sigh. “I want to manage the team. It’s a full-time job, and I need to uphold my reputation. I can’t be a socialite over here.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I’m not done. “I have some ideas. I… I told you we should work with influencers. The players are already using their social media channels to promote our workout gear, but what we need is fitness and fashion influencers. We could reach new market segments.”

  He rubs his chin. “You may have a point. I need more information. Put a folder together, will you?”

  “Sure. One more thing. I want a kid’s clothing line. Everyday clothes. I’m thinking about introducing a youth hockey program and a summer hockey camp. We could use that to boost sales. We’ll have a charity event next week where kids will be invited to skate in the arena. It would be a good date to make the announcement.”

  “I’ll think about it.” He looks… stunned, as if he’s trying to figure me out. It’s true what he said earlier. The princess has grown up, and she won’t go down without a fight. Not anymore.

  A knock sounds on the door, and Giovanni comes in and places our pasta in front of us. “Buon appetito.”

  “Grazie. We will enjoy our meal, won’t we?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “Si. Of course.” I feel Gianluca's eyes on me, but I ignore him. I’m going to enjoy this meal because I’m hungry. Starving actually. And for once, I don’t feel sick.

  “A bit brutal,” Gianluca says, lifting his wine glass in a mock salute.

  I shake my head but look back to where blood is being cleaned from the ice—Matt’s blood. I’ve never seen him fight before, but tonight he’s on fire. He didn’t throw the first punch, but when a Toronto player provoked him, he hit him right back in the face. In the end, the opponent was lying on the ice, but Matt was bleeding from his nose.

  Gianluca is right, though. The second period has been brutal. Twice already, the ice had to be cleaned of blood. Toronto is in a fighting mood today, and my guys are not backing down. My guys—that’s what they are now. My guys and my future husband, who’s fighting like his life depends on it. And maybe it does. I’m still not over what happened this afternoon. Gianluca’s blackmail proposal and me recording him and trying to blackmail him back. What does that make me? Am I any better than he is? I may be the one pulling the reins for now, but if my grandfather wants to sell the team, even Gianluca won’t be able to prevent it. I have to increase sales. Somehow.

  “It’s a sport for real men.” I put a lobster roll in my mouth. Today, I’ve been eating like a horse. And it still isn’t enough. It seems like I’m making up for the previous weeks.

  “So, you’re into ‘real’ men now.” He takes another sip of his wine.

  “None of your business.”

  “Isn’t that the one who bows to you every time he shoots a goal?” He points to Matt.

  “Have you become a hockey fan overnight?” My eyes are glued to the ice as I watch Matt being treated by the medical staff. He has a cut over his lip and one over his eye.

  “I only watch the highlights for the sake of the company.”

  What a sacrifice. “He’s our captain—well, alternate captain. But since Tyler Wolfe is still out with a concussion, he is the acting captain at the moment.”

  “Why does he bow to you?” The slimeball munches on one of my lobster rolls.

  “He said in an interview it’s an honor to work for the Ravelli Group.” The less Gianluca knows about my relationship with Matt, the better. I don’t trust him. He’ll use everything to his advantage.

  Matt and I need to get married as soon as possible. Gianluca could still tell my grandfather another version of what happened today and persuade him that a marriage between his golden boy and me would be a great idea. But if I were already married, I’d be protected. No way I’m marrying Gianluca. Not even over my dead body.

  “You can keep the team’s management; I’m not interested. Just a tip—” He empties his glass and faces me over the rim. “—make sure they win a game or two. Otherwise, even I won’t be able to persuade your grandfather to keep this team for very long.”

  If I could, I’d punch him in the face. Instead, I have to survive another hour at his side.

  Five minutes remain on the clock when Toronto shoots the first goal of the evening, and I ask for more food. I’ve moved on from lobster rolls to a dessert variation.

  “Do you always eat this much?” The jerk next to me wrinkles his nose.

  “Are you calling me fat?”

  “I might have to in the future.” He looks me up and down and takes a chocolate cake himself.

  I glare at him. Who does he think he is? Before I can say something, the goal horn blares through the arena. I jump up and cheer for Smithy. One goal to go, guys.

  I forget about the food and watch, mes
merized as the battle on the ice unfolds. Hockey games are fast, but in the last two minutes, I lose sight of the puck several times. I’m not sure if I could survive overtime right now and pray for another goal.

  Smithy has the puck, but there is no getting around the Toronto players. The guys pass the puck back and forth. A glance at the clock confirms there’ll only be time for one more shot. Matt passes the puck to Smithy, who passes to Nessy. Come on, I’m about to freak out here. Nessy pretends to shoot but passes the puck to Matt, who smashes the black disc into the goal.

  “Here’s your win.” I mock-bow to Gianluca and leave him in the skybox to head down to the locker room. With the media waiting in front, I take the back entrance to congratulate the team.

  “I’m so proud of you, everyone. Great effort, so who’s pizza maker of the day?” I ask to the room full of half-naked men. Thank God they know by now to keep a towel on their hips in case I show up. But I only have eyes for one.

  “Our Matty here,” Smithy says. “Looks a bit worse for wear, but he’s still in one piece.” He ruffles Matt’s hair.

  Matt’s face is swollen, and he’s already sporting a big bruise under his eye, undoubtedly from the fight earlier. With his pizza maker apron and the hat, he looks like a comedy version of Rocky.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” He doesn’t look me in the eye but turns away from me and tapes his stick.

  Right. I want to ask what’s wrong with him, but I can’t talk to him now. Not in front of everyone. I just hope he’ll answer his phone later. So, I go back to the skybox and see off the invited guests with Gianluca’s help. It takes ages for everyone to leave, and when I’m finally back in my hotel room, it’s nearly midnight.

  Matt may already be in bed, but I want to talk to him tonight. I need his help again.

  The phone rings six times, and I’m ready to give up when he accepts my call.

  “Hey, Matt. I hope I didn’t wake you.”