Page 63 of One Last Shot

“I know.” And if Petra had been willing, maybe we’d be on that path. But now that I’m spending more time with her, I can’t believe I ever hoped that she’d go along with his plan. She’s a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. “And I’m sure that was the only option for adopting her quickly. Now I guess we take the long but legal route.”

He smiles wryly at that. “If you wanted the long but legal route, you should have just said so.” He takes another sip of whiskey.

Under the table, Petra grabs my hand and squeezes. “We’re thankful for your help, Tom. We know you were just doing what was best for Aleksandr and Stella.”

He’s saved from responding by Avery’s reappearance. She sends Petra a questioning look, and Petra nods her head toward the table.

“Did I tell you I went to my first professional hockey game last night?” Petra asks Avery when she sits.

“No, but I saw you on TV.”

“Wait, what?”

“Uh ...” Avery stumbles, like she wishes she hadn’t said anything. I remember Tom saying one of the things he found sexy about her was how adorable she was when she was flustered, and I see what he means. She gets this pale pink flush on her cheeks that blends with her freckles and she closes her eyes for a minute, which makes me realize how long her lashes are. I’m not trying to check out my friend’s girl, especially not with Petra sitting next to me and holding my hand, but I do recognize what he was telling me months ago. “When you guys were staring at each other after Alex’s goal in the third period?”

“I didn’t think about the TV coverage,” Petra says quietly, and her hand slackens in mine. In response, I hold on tighter and at least she doesn’t pull away.

“It’s typical for them to focus on the player who scored the goal and the fan’s reactions,” I say. “It’s my fault, because I should have realized that the cameras would all be on me, and then would turn to whoever I was focused on.”

“Whatever,” she shrugs and gives us a megawatt smile, the kind that I’d expect if we walked out of a restaurant to find the paparazzi waiting for us. I recognize it for what it is—her desire to move on and act like this doesn’t bother her. But we’ll be returning to this conversation later, whether she wants to or not. I’m not going to let one TV camera ruin what’s building between us here.

“So, was the game as exciting in person as it was on TV?” Avery asks.

“It was. I hadn’t watched hockey in almost fifteen years,” Petra says, and this info is new to me. But it makes sense, given that she didn’t know I was playing in New York. She would have had to be actively avoiding hockey to not know this.

“Like, hadn’t watched it even on TV?” Avery scrunches up her eyebrows, obviously wondering how Petra hadn’t ever watched the sport I play professionally.

“Yeah, I ...” She pauses. “I was kind of anti-hockey for a while.”

“Oh,” Avery says, and even though she clearly wants to ask more questions, she glances at me and then changes the subject. “So, my friend Taryn and I are going out for drinks on Thursday night. Would you want to join us?”

“Oh,” Petra says, disappointment tinging her voice. “I’d love to, but I can’t. Aleksandr’s in Philly still, that’ll be game 5. I’ll be here watching it with Stella.”

I weigh the fact that Petra sounds like she does want to see Avery again before I open my mouth. Hopefully that wasn’t Petra trying to bow out of plans gracefully, because if so, this is going to piss her off. “You guys could always meet here. Plenty of drink options and you can watch the game together.”

“I love that idea!” Petra says. “If you want to,” she adds quickly, glancing at Avery.

“Of course I want to. That sounds perfect.”

“Great, I might invite my friend Emily too,” Petra adds.

On the promise of future plans, Tom says they need to get going. He mentions an early morning meeting, but I’m not fooled for a second because I recognize the way he’s looking at Avery. It’s exactly the way I’m looking at Petra—like I can’t wait to get her naked and on her back.

* * *

“I do have my own place in the Village, so I wouldn’t need to live here full time,” the second nanny we’re interviewing this morning says after we finish giving her the tour. So far, the interview’s gone very well. I can tell by her body language that Petra thinks this girl isthe one. With the first candidate, we didn’t even bother showing her around because it was obvious we weren’t going to hire her. “I’m happy to stay here overnight whenever necessary, but I do find that it’s also good for everyone to have their own space.”

I consider what she’s saying. “That’s great,” I agree. Natasha was such a godsend those first few months Stella was with me, and I don’t think I could have done the parenting thing without her. But Stella and I are settling into a routine now and it would probably be awkward to have a nanny here when I didn’t need her. And even though what I’ll be paying her could warrant a 24/7 work schedule, I know that’s not a healthy expectation either. “I’m just at the beginning of the playoffs now, and God willing, I’ll be playing for another month or more. But then, summer should actually be much lighter in terms of how often I need you. Things will pick up dramatically when the season starts up again, but I generally have the schedule well in advance so we can see all the time I’ll need you here late for home games, or for a few days and nights when we are traveling. Depending on the schedule, sometimes we’re on the road for a week or more at a time. Will that work okay?”

She nods. “It will.”

“Discretion is critical,” Petra says. “That NDA you signed when you arrived is in place because Aleksandr is very private and Stella is still adjusting to this living situation, and it’s essential that her new normal not be upset. Can you truly handle not telling anyone—your roommates, your family—who you are nannying for?”

“I don’t have roommates or a family, and I can definitely avoid telling my friends.”

I watch the way Petra’s eyebrows knit together. “I’m not trying to pry,” she says. “But if you’re going to have such close access to this family, I do need to know what your situation is? How does a young woman like you live in the Village without roommates? And do you really not have any family?”

Raina, the potential nanny in question, steels her shoulders as she opens her mouth to respond. “My parents died in a plane crash in Alaska when I was a teenager, so I moved in with my aunt, who had a brownstone in the Village that she’d inherited when their parents passed. It had been in my dad’s family for generations. My mom was an only child and her parents had already died by then, so it was literally just me and my aunt. She passed away from cancer a year ago. The reason I never finished at Columbia was because she got sick my junior year, and I had to take a leave of absence my senior year to take care of her.”

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