Page 15 of Dice & Dekes

“Of course.” I rarely miss a game, since I grew up with half the players and am related to one of them, but tomorrow’s extra special because my mom, the only Mrs. Hale who matters, is singing the National Anthem.

“Then how about this: I’ve booked a spa day for two. Why don’t you and a special someone spend the morning getting nice and relaxed before the opening game? I’ve already paid. All you have to do is show up. Here, I’m sending you the information right now.”

A spa day doesn’t sound so bad. I used to do that kind of thing a lot more before I was in the military. “Thanks. That’s very generous.”

“See you tomorrow, then!” Dante says.

“Okay, and don’t forget about the—” But the call has already ended.

He thinks this marriage is salvageable.

He’s wrong.

Even if part of me—some broken, traitorous, hope-drenched part—kind of wishes he wasn’t.

I rub my temples like that’s going to press the chaos back into its box. What a mess.

I open the employee fridge with one hand, already texting my best friend with the other.

SuperKnova:Hey, what are you doing tomorrow? Wanna go to a spa with me?

BowBeforeBaylor:Um YES did you think I was gonna say no or smth?

SuperKnova:Great, I’ll text you the deets.

I have no intention of telling him why I have a paid spa day courtesy of my nutball boss. That NDA cuts both ways, right? Not even my best friend needs to know about this mess with Viktor.

Come to think of it, Dante probably wanted me to take Viktor on this little getaway.

Well, too bad. Viktor can stuff it.

* * *

“So,” Baylor says, eyeing the two massage tables like they’re an ambush, “this setup screams date night. Did someone bail on your romantic getaway? Or is this the part where you confess your undying love for me?”

I roll my eyes so hard I nearly sprain something.

“You have a vagina, Knova,” he stage-whispers, “and despite my many charms, that’s still a dealbreaker.”

“Don’t make this weird,” I tell him, adjusting the fall of the robe I’ve already changed into like it’s armor. “You’re not my type, either. This isn’t a date, dude. It’s just a spa day. They’re going to do a thing with hot rocks and exfoliating salt or whatever, and we’re going to walk out of here withmagnificentpores. That’s the only agenda.”

Baylor strides over to one of the tables. “Really? Because this place looks expensive, and if we’re doing the salt scrub, that’s an upcharge.”

“I won a gift certificate at work,” I say. Technically not a lie, albeit a gross oversimplification. “Dante footed the bill.”

Baylor accepts this explanation without further questions. He knows all about Dante, from the old man’s shenanigans to his deep pockets. Besides, Dante owns the spa.

Shortly after we get settled, a pair of masseuses come in. “Congratulations, newlyweds!” they exclaim in unison.

Baylor flops over on the table to gawk at me. “Newlyweds? Knova, what the hell is going on?”

“We’re not married,” I tell the women. Under my breath, I add, “What a worthless NDA.”

The masseuses exchange a glance. The taller and blonder of the two asks, “Are we in the right room? Aren’t you Knova and Viktor? Dante said…”

Baylor’s head lifts sharply. “You married Viktor?” His voice drops. “As in Viktor Abbott?”

“It was a mistake,” I snap.

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