Page 12 of On the Line

“Hi,” she says, “I’m Morgan. Lauren’s cousin.”

“Carson’s daughter?” I can’t hide my surprise. Lauren’s uncle and our former boss, Carson, is big and bald, and she looks nothing like him except for her eyes—they are exactly the same shade and shape as his.

Morgan rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “You know my dad?”

“I used to work for him at Kaplan.” I don’t mention that he was my agent back when I played in the NHL, or how he took me under his wing and taught me the ropes of agenting after my early retirement from hockey.

“I’m sorry,” Morgan says, her voice tinged with sarcasm. Carson’s like that—people either love him or hate him. But I don’t get the sense that Morgan hates him, just that she knows what he’s like.

“Don’t be. I learned a lot from him and then moved on.”

Lauren is quiet, and when I glance over at her, she’s staring at me with an unreadable expression on her face. I have no idea if she knows that things didn’t end well between me and Carson because by the time I branched out and started my own agency she had already followed Josh to Park City and married him.

“I better get going,” I say as I step away from the counter, “I have a flight to catch.”

Not much makes me uncomfortable, but standing between three women who are shooting each other looks I can’t interpret is putting me on edge.

I turn toward Lauren. “I’ll get you the name of Josh’s estate lawyer and his financial adviser. You’ll want to talk to both of them. Just let me know if you want me to be part of either of those conversations, and we can arrange a call.”

“Thanks,” she says, her voice flat and eyes lifeless.

She looks ... haunted. I’m not prepared for how much it hurts seeing her like this. I miss the way I used to get her fired up by fighting with her—the way her cheeks would turn pink when she got angry, the way her eyes narrowed and grew darker, like the sea before a storm. Pissing her off was my favorite part of my job during the years we worked together at Kaplan.

Then, one night changed everything and the next night I introduced her to Josh.

That should have been the end of our story.

I need to get back to that place where she’s a distant memory, someone I used to know rather than someone who’s taking up every spare second of thought.

First, I need to execute this trust. Then there will be nothing tying me to her and I can finally walk away for good.

CHAPTER6

LAUREN

I slink back against the padded booth seat to avoid the beer-soaked breath of the guy sitting next to me. I’m pretty sure his name is Brad, and while his friend is flirting with my sister, Brad does not seem to be taking the hint that I’m not interested.

Telling him I was recently widowed elicited an “I’m so sorry,” but didn’t deter him at all. So I rub at the side of my face with my left hand, making sure my ring catches the light. Maybe if I blind him with it, he’ll back off.

I kick Paige under the table and she glances over at me, giving me a small smile, and I try not to be aggravated in return. She’s been helping me all week—caring for my girls, catching up on her own work during their nap times, playing with them while I make phone calls, schedule appointments, and run errands as I navigate the part of death no one tells you about: the paperwork nightmare.

I get it. Paige is single, and a cute guy is paying attention to her. But this was supposed to be our last dinner together before she goes back to Boston.

My phone lights up on the table, and I snatch it up like it’s an emergency.

“I’m so sorry,” I say to Brad as I scoot out of my seat and stand. All three sets of eyes look up at me. “I’ve got to take this call.”

I answer the phone on the second ring, even though my mother-in-law is the last person on the planet I want to speak to. I’d give anything to hear her son’s voice on the other end of the phone one last time. Hers, not so much.

But I’m so desperate to get away from Brad that I don’t even consider letting it go to voice mail.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Lauren.” My mother-in-law’s greeting is followed by silence. I treat perfect strangers with more warmth than she’s ever shown me.

“Hi, Barb. How are you?” I hold the phone against my ear as I make my way through the busy restaurant, hoping the hallway that leads to the bathroom will be quieter.

“Are you ... out?”

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