Page 15 of The Fake Husband Play
Okay, fine, I speed walk because I’m in heels, but I still haul serious ass as I weave around the closest tree, slip into a hallway, and take a detour to the kitchen. And once I get there, I take my sweet time pouring my next tray of wine, while planning ways to stay under his radar.
I’ll run from that man all night if I have to.
Sometimes the only smart thing to do is run from your dreams before they have a chance to disappoint you. I can’t take any more disappointment right now, especially not from the most stunning man on earth.
So stunning and talented and cool and generous…
And now I’ve ruined my chance to meet him in real life.
I tear up a bit as I fetch clean glasses.
If only this had happened some other time, some other place, when I wasn’t beaten down and exhausted, I might have had the courage to introduce myself. But I’m all out of courage right now.
And people always say you shouldn’t meet your heroes.
Right now, it sounds like good advice.
Chapter
Five
GRAMMERCY
Walkinginto the courtyard of Maison Monteleone feels like stepping onto the set of one of those HBO dramas where everyone’s rich and plotting each other’s downfall over champagne.
But in this case, they’re plotting how they can be a part of the Voodoo’s inaugural season.
They’re here because of my team, because ofme…
Even with a big brother who made his NHL dreams come true long before I did, and coming off a Stanley Cup-winning season of my own, it still feels surreal. Three years ago, I was eating ramen for dinner and wondering if I’d ever make it out of the AHL. Now I’m at a hotel I would have been kicked out of as a kid, primed to charm the pants off potential sponsors while wearing a suit that costs more than my new mortgage.
On a penthouse apartment.
That’s also mine.
Sometimes even our wildest dreams come true. I’m living proof.
I scan the crowd, seeing who beat Parker and me to the party. The traffic was hell rolling infrom his side of town, making me glad I opted for a place in the city limits, closer to the action. A yard is great and all, but I’d rather have those fifty commute minutes back every day than a place to put my garden.
Who has time to garden right now, anyway?
Ahead of us in the courtyard, Blue stands guard by the bar, a large bowl of nuts in one big hand, munching away with a “leave me in peace” expression likely to keep all but the bravest sponsors at bay. Jean-Louis, our Quebec boy, is deep in discussion with two impressed-looking men in suits, and Capo has a pretty blonde giggling in a corner. Meanwhile, Nix holds court with a group of middle-aged women who look like they’ve had loads of very subtle, very expensive work, and is clearly loving every minute of it.
“Looks like Nix is still a cougar magnet,” Parker observes beside me as we collect a glass of champagne from a redhead in a seriously provocative cocktail uniform. I’m no prude, but I didn’t expect so much cleavage on display at a fancy party.
Shows what I know.
Guess the rich and famous like boobs, too.
I mean, I’m absolutely a fan, but situations like this are awkward. It’s strange to be wearing a suit while the person serving you drinks is wrapped up in a postage stamp and a prayer.
I thank the redhead, keeping my gaze on her face in a show of solidarity—we’re both members of the workforce at this party—before responding to Parker beneath my breath, “He’s not a cougar magnet; he’s an enthusiast. Every time we’ve gone to a club on weekends, Nix makes a beeline for a woman old enough to be hismother. Boy can’t get enough of a sexy Southern lady of a certain age.”
Parker grunts in amusement. “No lies detected. And I mean, I can see the appeal. Women over forty know things.”
“Yeah?” My lips hook up on one side. “You talkin’ from personal experience,mon frere?”
Parker chuckles as he gives a slightly self-conscious shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. Theremighthave been a woman in college who taught me a thing or two that I’ve used to show other ladies a good time.”
