Page 73 of Twisted Shot
Naomi nods, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
They sit like that for a few minutes, the plane steady around them, the clouds giving way to the late afternoon sun.
“What are you going to do?” Naomi asks.
Mila considers for a moment. “I’m going to help him be both.”
She looks at Naomi and smiles, a plan already forming. “And I need your help to make it happen.”
CHAPTER 25
MILA
The ballroom bustles with activity as it’s transformed into a cathedral of ice and light. Volunteers, including Natalie, move swiftly between round tables dressed in navy and silver linens, adjusting place cards and double-checking place settings. In the far corner, four delivery people heave a glittering ice sculpture of a whale onto a display pedestal, with the Whalers’ logo gleaming at its base. Sunlight pours through the soaring glass windows, catching on the crystal and polished silver, while outside the Hartford skyline stretches clear and sharp in the afternoon haze—the gold Capitol dome flashing against pale blue sky, the neat grid of office towers, and the slow sweep of the Connecticut River cutting through it all.
Near the center of the ballroom, Mila stands with a tablet in one hand and lukewarm coffee in the other. Beside her, Naomi paces like a general reviewing battle strategy, eyes fixed on her tablet.
Mila spots Natalie weaving through the crowd and waves her over.
She arrives with a bright grin. “This is the fanciest party I’ve ever been invited to. Also, thank you for the opportunity to put Jake in a tux. He tried it on last night and let’s just say it was promptly removed.”
Mila smirks. “All part of the service.”
She hooks an arm through Natalie’s and draws her in. “Come help us sanity-check the seating chart. In case there are any simmering off-ice feuds we don’t know about. I don’t need two left wingers throwing handsover a canapé.”
Natalie looks wicked. “Please tell me you’re not putting Tall next to anyone easily spooked.”
“Already handled,” Mila says. “He’s at a table with Carter.”
Naomi rolls her eyes, bringing up the seating chart on her tablet. “One jokester and one haunted tree. Balance.”
She taps her fingers and begins reading out seating arrangements. “Jesse’s at Table 5 with the mayor and that hedge fund guy and his wife. He specifically requested Jesse. Big fan, apparently.”
Mila nods, encouraging her to keep going.
“Jim Pearce is with a few hospital board members at Table 1,” Naomi continues, pointing. “Pavel and Tristan are at Table 4 with their coach and some others.”
Natalie laughs. “Perfection. Tristan will be too scared to make trouble with Coach Barbier there.”
Mila nods again, her eyes still skimming the seating chart, searching for the one name her heart wants to see.
Naomi pauses long enough to clock it. “And I put Theo, Jake, and Natalie at Table 6 with the donor group from New Haven.”
She turns to Natalie. “That’s a good balance, right? You and Jake are charming, and Theo can…smolder quietly.”
“At your service,” Natalie says.
Mila’s eyes snag on Theo’s name, and her breath hitches. There it is—proof he’s supposed to be here. She’s had his RSVP for days, but she won’t let herself believe it until she sees him with her own eyes. Until she feels that quiet shift in the air that always happens when he’s near.
Because the truth is, she hasn’t heard from Theo in almost a month—not since that tense, aching moment at the rink, when he looked at her like he was desperate to stay but had already convinced himself he couldn’t.
No calls. No texts. Not a whisper from the Man in Black.
And yes, she tried. A few gentle messages, carefully worded and sent with more hope than she’d admit, each one met with silence that scraped her insides raw. Proof of what she already knew. Theo’s pulling away, not to punish her, but to protect her. Because he thinks he’s broken. Thinks she deserves someone softer, easier, less damaged.
And maybe that’s what cuts deepest—knowing he can’t see how deeply she wants him anyway,exactly as he is.
But tonight, he’ll be here. And tonight, Mila isn’t hiding how she feels. Not anymore. She’s going to show him—with every word, every look, every inch of herself—that he’s not only wanted, but worthy.
