Want You to Want Me

by Lorelei James

  My damn mouth went so dry I couldn’t speak, so I merely motioned for her to turn around.

  The back of the dress mimicked the front except the diagonal slash was wider, revealing more skin.

  And that ass. Wrapped in silk . . . the only way it would be better was when that ass was wrapped in my hands.

  Gabi spun back to face us, and I blanked the lust from my face. “God. I love this. But I peeked at the tag, Q, and this one dress is my budget for this entire shopping spree. So I’ll have to pass.” She glanced over her shoulder at herself in the mirror and sighed. “Too bad.”

  “Darling, the reason I told you not to look at the tags is so you wouldn’t misread them. That dress is one hundred dollars, not one thousand.”

  She studied him—and then me—with skepticism. “Really? How convenient. What about the shoes?”

  Q laughed. “Oh, those are five hundred bucks . . . if you buy them outright. But we picked up all these accessories at Cindi’s Attic—the couture rental store.”

  “Rental? I don’t remember it saying that on the sign.”

  “It’s not advertised on the marquee but that’s what it is.”

  That stubborn jaw notched higher in disbelief. “That’s a thing?”

  “Yes. How many working women can afford to buy special-occasion accessories outright? They do a booming rental business. Cindi’s Attic is the owner’s tongue-in-cheek reference to Cinderella, the ultimate borrowed-clothes girl.”

  “So I can afford this?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll find a purse to go with this ensemble. I’ll accessorize all of your outfits from Cindi’s Attic, giving you a separate list of rental pieces and return dates. But usually, the rental is for a full month.”

  She jumped up and down—in heels—she was so excited. “This has been amazing, guys, thank you.”

  Her joy was infectious. Q and I high-fived, grinning like idiots.

  “Okay. So I’m set. I’ll just change out of this.”

  Wasn’t until she was out of sight that I could breathe again. I leaned over to Q and whispered, “Bill me the difference for that dress. I’ll handle the accessories, but find a ‘rental’ deal on a silver mink cape and bill me for that too.”

  He nodded.

  “Whatever fabric you’ve picked for my suit for the Grant Foundation Gala better match that dress.”

  “I thought you weren’t together,” Q said slyly.

  “We’re not.” I flashed my teeth. “Yet.”

  * * *

  * * *

  After Gabi dressed, she received a phone call about filling in for a sick referee for a high school playoff game ASAP, so she called an Uber to take her back to LI and we skipped lunch.

  Q showed me the fabric for the suit and I approved it. Then we agreed he’d do the quarterly purge of my closet on Thursday and I sent him the updated security code.

  I finished earlier than I’d planned so I called my cousin Zosia, who was in town for other LI business.

  We met at Spoon and Stable in the bar, since the restaurant didn’t open for another hour.

  The first thing that popped into my head after my cousin demanded, “What the hell is going on at LI?” was she and Gabi would get along great. They were both strong women, working in what was typically considered a male-dominated field.

  Both liked to poke my buttons. And I loved it when both of them did it.

  “What do you mean, what’s going on at LI?”

  “You cancelled my meeting with you.”

  “Postponed,” I corrected. “But I thought you’d planned to meet with Ash today too?”

  She rolled her fingers on the bartop, waiting to speak until the bartender delivered our mugs of Utepils Skölsch beer. Mugs held aloft, she said, “Skål.”

  “Skål.” I swallowed. “Now start talking.”

  “I’ll ask you a random question. Did you know that in addition to getting the fisheries licenses grandfathered in, that we still have a commercial distillation permit from after prohibition ended?”

  I blinked at her. “What?”

  “Exactly. I checked the permit with the city, county and state. It is still legal and valid. License is assigned to Lund and Sons.”

  “Zoz, where in the hell did you find that information?”

  “In the abandoned building that used to serve as the north branch of Lund and Sons, before it was Lund Industries. There’s an interior room that’s literally a walk-in safe, locked and chock-full of paperwork.”

  “How long has it been abandoned?”

  “Since prior to the computer age.”

  “All the information is just sitting there?”

  “The small brick building was shuttered after daddy-o let the business go tits-up. There’s a chain-link fence around it that deters vandals. Although no one from LI has stepped foot in it for years, it still gets a biweekly security sweep. Which is what got me to wondering about it in the first place.” She paused to drink again. “What could be in there that requires security LI is willing to pay for? Especially after you bailed us out and then bailed.”

  “No excuses, but I had nothing to do with that decision.”

  “I know. We’ve rebuilt the charter boat business and restructured the fishery. But I’ll remind you, Lake Superior freezes over. We’ve got a helluva lot of free time on our hands that we could be using to rebuild the Lund name in Duluth/Superior, not just one business.”

  I forced myself to unclench my jaw and take a slow sip of my beer. Part of what I’d been doing at LI the past two years was revisiting existing LI subcompanies and properties to see what could be salvaged from within. Dealing with acquisitions remained my least favorite part of my job. But anytime I’d brought up options, such as beefing up the businesses we’d already invested years in, suggesting our investment money would be better spent there than literally buying a whole new set of problems, I’d been summarily dismissed.

  Zosia set her hand on my forearm. “I see your frustration. We’ve talked about this before—you, me and Zeke. The truth is Zeke is capable of running the fishing/shipping/charters side himself. The timber side and the mining side have mostly been sold off, not a ton of paperwork or profit there for me to work with. The ag side of the Lund family is a separate entity that sells to LI, and I know no one at corporate deals with Thomas and David Lund, but both those families have things well in hand with Lund Farms. They keep in touch with me. What I don’t like is when I have to hear from the damn chamber of commerce that a Lund subsidiary purchased one of the heavy equipment companies in my town.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “You heard this thirdhand?”

  “That’s why I was so pissed and wanted to talk to someone in the big three chairs at the home office. Did you know?”

  “Maybe. What’s the name of the company?”

  “Equipment Service Products. They make the specialty equipment for the telecommunications industry like cable rollers, boom cranes, articulating cranes and digger derrick trucks. Rumor was they were headed toward Chapter 11 and then LuTek bought them out.” She scrutinized me. “LuTek rings a bell?”

  “It’s a subsidiary of LI. I’m surprised you’re familiar with it.”

  “I wasn’t until someone outside the family told me about it,” she retorted.

  “The LuTek subsidiary is on the software side, or at least, that was the category the company was supposed to fall into.”

  “So you didn’t know about this acquisition?”

  I shook my head. Fuming. Embarrassed. Trying to pretend I was neither.

  Zosia drained her beer and signaled for another. “If you don’t know about this kinda shit as CEO in training, then I’m screwed.”

  Christ. I’d bite. “Screwed as far as . . . ?”

  “Getting anyone on the LI board to reinvest in some of the smaller ide
as I’ve been kicking around to ramp up revenue. The distillery for instance. Big market for artisanal spirits.”

  I groaned. “Please don’t tell me you want to open a damn bar too?”

  She laughed. “No way. I aim to own the creation aspect of the liquor business, not throw people out on their asses at one A.M. every weekend after they’ve had too much to drink.”

  “What else?”

  “I’ve got ideas that’ll capitalize on the resurgence of manufacturing up here, but to be frank, after the chilly response I got today, I don’t know that I want to share those ideas with LI. They’ll get passed on and passed over. We don’t owe LI anything except gratitude for keeping us afloat when we needed it—but as of last year, we’ve repaid our debt. That building, and everything in it, belongs to me, Zeke and Zach. We can do whatever we want with it and we can procure our own investors.”

  “Your brothers are on board with this?”

  Zosia nodded. “Like I said, Zeke loves the charters and fisheries stuff. Zach hates it. I’m . . . meh. It’s provided us a decent living, but it’s never been my dream job.”

  A decent living. At that moment I hated my grandfather Jackson Lund for cutting off his youngest brother, Grover, and casting him out of the family business, and doing the same thing with his other brother, Lincoln, who’d ended up with the ag side of Lund Brothers. Our family fortune should be shared with these Lunds. Did I have an idea how to do that? No.

  She squeezed my wrist. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nolan?”

  “Guilt, mostly.” I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “I don’t remember the last time we saw Thomas or David and their families. A hockey game probably. If not for you, we wouldn’t have any contact with your branch of family.”

  “It comes from being the middle child. I’m the peacemaker and brutally honest. None of us have any misconceptions about what kind of man our dad was. He was a mean, drunken asshole. Hell, I’d’ve kicked him out of the family too.”

  I snorted.

  “His shitty nature was why he didn’t start having kids until he was in his sixties—my mom was a last resort. I’m glad that Zach doesn’t remember much about him. Dad would’ve beaten him down just because . . . he doesn’t fit a mold.” She smiled at the bartender when he slid another beer in front of her. Then she looked at me. “Thank you so much for asking Zach to be part of your LCCO event on Saturday. It means a lot to him.”

  “Happy to have him. Will he get pissed off if I ask about his plans after he graduates from UMD this spring?”

  “No. I’ll be honest . . . the reason I’ve been pursuing these other options is because I don’t want Zach to leave after he graduates. I get it if he wants to move away and do something on his own to make his mark in the world. But as he and I have discussed, he’d stay if he had the right opportunities. So I’m trying to find a way to provide that for him. For all of us.” Zosia smirked at me over her beer. “Fair warning, I will tell Zach that we talked about this so when he sees you this weekend, he won’t be blindsided if you ask him a bunch of questions.”

  “No problem. And be assured that what we’ve discussed won’t go any further than us.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “I will presume to ask one thing, though.”

  She cocked a brow at me.

  “Don’t go after any investors before letting me sort though some of your ideas. I’d like to see all of the things you’ve found as potentials. Then I’ll run some numbers—all on my own time.”

  “You can do that?”

  I tried not to bristle. “Just because I don’t have fifteen finance degrees doesn’t mean I can’t figure out positive and negative correlations in the business world.”

  “I never said you couldn’t, Nolan. If the other three big chairs at LI are making you feel that way, it sucks for you, but they’re wrong. There’s a reason I brought this to you. I’m just surprised you have time.”

  “What I’ve been doing at LI seems like busywork. More so this year than any others. I’ll make time to do this because I know you’re interested in what I have to say.”

  “Always. Now. Tell me about this barcade Dallas designed . . .”

  We ended up eating dinner, drinking more than we’d planned, laughing a bunch, arguing even more, and it was one of the best evenings I’d had in a long time. So after I got Zosia settled in the Lund corporate apartment, I hired a car service to take me home.

  Fourteen

  GABI

  I wasn’t surprised to see Jax on Wednesday night; he usually watched Mimi’s skills class. Nor was I surprised when he hung around after the start of my 14U class. However, I was surprised when he approached me to come into his office and tasked Margene with supervising my girls’ practice. It had to be important if he expected me to take off my skates.

  My stomach knotted at the thought of him finding out I was seeking other employment.

  But how would he have heard that? Unless Wolf Sports North had contacted him for my references. Yet, that didn’t make sense since my interview wasn’t until Friday.

  The other possibility? Nolan had spilled his guts. But again, I didn’t buy that scenario. I’d like to think he’d fire off a warning text if Jax was gunning for me.

  Once I ditched my skates, I had no choice but to show up in my sock-clad feet for the meeting.

  Jax’s door was open, but I knocked anyway.

  “Hey. Come in and close the door.”

  I forced myself not to blurt out apologies and explanations when he subjected me to that cool-eyed stare. Throat dry, I swallowed once and managed to get out, “What’s up?” without my voice wavering.

  “Remember our conversation a few months back about my interest in playing hockey occasionally with other retired NHL players?”

  “You got a line on making that happen?”

  “Could be. A bunch of guys will be in town for the Hockey Legends exhibition prior to the Wild game tomorrow night.”

  I frowned. “I hadn’t heard anything about that.”

  “Exactly. It’s a surprise for fans. We’ll only play one period, divided into two, with a ten-minute break in between. Doesn’t add any additional time to the length of the event time for attendees, since there won’t be any of the pregame stuff before the Wild take the ice.”

  “Bonus for fans, fun for you. Win-win. Congrats.”

  Jax drummed his fingers on the desk as he studied me. “You’re wondering . . . what does this have to do with me?”

  “You want me to referee? Since I did such a bang-up job when you and the Hammer went one-on-one?”

  “No. I want you to play on my team for the exhibition.”

  My entire body went still. “What?”

  “Lemme backtrack. I’m captain for the Western Conference and Griz—Lucas Griswold—is the captain for the Eastern Conference, since the Wild are playing an Eastern Conference team. When Griz and I agreed to do this last week, it was only on the condition that we could pick our teammates. A total of twelve, including ourselves.”

  I whistled. “Even with it only being one period, your lines will have to do ninety-second shifts.”

  “Yeah. So while it’s a shortened game, it’ll still be as grueling for us. I picked my teammates based on their current level of fitness.” He flashed a sharklike grin. “Just because it’s for fun doesn’t mean I won’t school those fuckers on the other team.”

  “Agreed. But where do I come in?”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “I know it’s short notice, but Drakken has a conflict and can’t make it. Griz and I agreed that we didn’t have to share our teammate lists with each other. So today, not only did I get a call from Drakken that changed my lineup, but a source who shall remain anonymous let me know that Griz has a woman on his team.”

  “While I should be flipping cartwheels that
a woman is finally playing in an NHL exhibition game, that won’t be the case when I find out who it is, will it?”

  Jax shook his head.

  “Who?”

  “Amelie SanSimeon-Wipf.”

  Fuck me. “Seriously? Of all the fantastic women players Griz could’ve picked, he chose her?”

  “I’m guessing it’s because they’re both Canadian. Griz also selected her brother, Gerard SanSimeon, for his team.”

  I flopped in the chair. “So . . . what? Griz was just gonna spring this on you?”

  “Apparently. My source also claims he wants to show support for the Canadian Women’s Ice Hockey Team, and he knows that a female Olympic-winning medalist playing in the NHL exhibition will get big buzz once the media gets wind of it.”

  “While I find that admirable for women’s hockey as a whole, Team Canada lost the gold medal to the U.S. team, so he’s essentially downplaying our win in our country by not inviting one of our players to participate.”

  “My thoughts too. Which is why I want you on my team tomorrow night, Gabi.”

  “I appreciate that, Jax. But like I said, you should ask a member of the U.S. Olympic Women’s Ice Hockey Team to play. I can give you a list of names, three of them are even local.”

  Another cool stare from the man known throughout the league as Stonewall.

  “What?”

  “You’ve won two silver medals in the Olympics. SanSimeon-Wipf has won one. That’s a better matchup in this case.”

  I leaned in. “Jax. I fucking hate her.”

  “I know.” He grinned. “Here’s where I remind you that you’ll be playing in a men’s hockey league, so you’re not expected to abide by that asinine ‘no checking’ rule like in women’s hockey.”

  Holy shit. I could fuck up her world as payback for the “accidental” hit she put on my teammate Bethany that literally knocked her out of the World Cup.

  He laughed. “Now she gets it. So are you in?”

  “Totally one million percent in.”

  “Awesome. We’re having team skate here tomorrow morning at nine. You’ll meet the guys, we’ll discuss game strategy, and go over last-minute details regarding the exhibition.”