Page 9 of Empty Net

“Hutch, tell my best friend you’re not the boss of me andI’mthe boss in this relationship,” Auden says.

“I like to think we’re fifty-fifty on that one,” he answers.

Auden and I exchange a glance, then both burst out laughing.

“All right, all right. I guess I’ll see myself out of this conversation. Just wanted to say how great this place looks.”

He kisses Auden’s cheek before taking his leave, and she sighs a little, her eyes locked on him as he walks away.

“Glad to see you’re still fawning over him.”

She doesn’t even look bothered by my teasing. She just gives me that same dopey grin she’s been giving me since they finally admitted their feelings last year.

“He’s amazing, isn’t he?”

I roll my eyes. “I need a drink if I’m going to have to watch all these couples moon over each other all night.”

“Well, if you weren’t such a curmudgeonly old lady, you too could be in a happy, healthy relationship like the rest of us,” she teases.

I toss her a glare as we make our way to the bar on the opposite side of the room. We each order a glass of champagne—something light to kick off the evening—then I take in the party through a guest’s eyes for the first time. I examine every inch of the room, going over all the things I would change now that people are in here. A few more tables here, taller centerpieces there. Maybe drape the lights differently.

“Stop it,” Auden says.

“What?”

“I know you’re picking the party apart. Knock it off. It’s perfect the way it is. Besides, this is for a bunch of hockey players. I really don’t think they would have cared if we had done taller centerpieces or not.”

I grin. “You’re doing it too.”

She shrugs. “You can take the designer away from the hotel, but you can’t take away the urge to design.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Having such a demanding job? No, but I miss the creative aspect. I had so much fun building our house over the summer that it gave me that itch again, you know?”

I nod. “I understand that. That’s how I felt planning this party.”

We don’t say anything, but my mind still spins with ideas, though that’s nothing new because it’sbeenspinning with ideas. I’ve spent the last year since Auden sold her company trying to figure out what I want to do next and living off theverygenerous severance package she gave me. No matter how many trips I’ve taken looking for inspiration, like the two months I spent in Europe getting Sadie settled there or my trip to Belize over Thanksgiving to avoid a Maddison holiday fiasco, I’m still at a loss and haven’t come up with anything.

I want to do something that allows me to exercise my strengths—like planning and design—while still giving me new challenges every day so I don’t grow bored. I don’t know exactly what that is, but I’ll figure it out. I know I will. I just have to give it time while trying to avoid my mother’s latest matchmaking efforts.

“So,” Auden says, taking a sip from the bubbly in her hand, “any prospects for the fake boyfriend?”

“Considering I just found out myself that I’m not single anymore, no. I haven’t given it much thought beyond blurting it out to my mother.”

Really, I could slap myself for doing so. What the hell was I thinking? Auden’s right—there’s no way my mother is going to buy it.

“Well, I know a good place to start…” She waves her hand out at the event before us. “There are plenty of single guys here.”

“You want me to date one of Hutch’s teammates?”

“It’s just for one night, right? And these aren’t all his teammates. There are trainers and other staff here too. Youcould find one of them. Or a teammate’s brother. I don’t know.” She takes another drink. “Why are you having such a hard time finding someone anyway? Don’t you always have a date lined up?”

Usually, yes. I’m sort of known as a serial dater. But lately…I don’t know. It’s not been the same high it used to be. I used to get a kick out of all the weird dates I’d go on, used to love telling the stories, but they aren’t as fun as they once were. Now, they just make me sad, and I’m unsure why.

“I’m having a dry spell,” I mutter.

She gasps dramatically, so loud a few people stare. “A dry spell?You?”

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