Page 2 of Pipe Dreams
And yet, if Nate’s pining for Becca were the most irritating thing about Lauren’s situation at work, she wouldn’t be drinking tonight.
Her problem wasn’t with the work she’d be doing these next few weeks. Before Nate Kattenberger bought and rebranded the Long Island team, she’d spent ten years working in the Syosset offices. It had been Lauren that managed the team’s office during its last three play-offs runs. Heck, Lauren was the veteran and Becca was the rookie.
But then, two years ago, the young Internet whiz made a lot of changes to the organization. Lauren expected to be fired along with the rest of the casualties. In fact, her father—the team’s general manager—was the first person Nate axed after the purchase went through.
Lauren wasn’t fired, though. On the contrary, when Nate moved the team to Brooklyn, he stunned her by moving her even further—whisking her into the corporate headquarters of his Internet company in Manhattan.
She’d been ecstatic about this promotion, since workingfor Nate’s Fortune 500 company was exactly the sort of corporate leap she’d always hoped to make. Not only that, but the move away from the hockey team solved a lot of problems for Lauren all in one fell swoop, including the one huge problem that had suddenly knocked her on her ass.
And that problem was down on the ice right now, draped in sweaty goalie pads, lining up to skate past the other team for the traditional handshake. For the millionth time this week, Lauren closed her eyes and prayed to be spirited back to Nate’s office tower where there weren’t any hockey players, and there weren’t any reminders of the man who’d crushed her spirit.
But as long as Becca was unable to work, Lauren was stuck in Brooklyn. And now that the Bruisers had won their freaking play-offs slot, it meant a hailstorm of planning and administrative overtime. Four rounds, potentially. Twomonths.Andtravel.
“Lauren.” Nate’s voice cut through her reverie. “Please call Becca a car. She needs to get home and get some rest.”
“Omigod, I’m fine.” Rebecca rolled her eyes. “I can just walk, or grab a cab. And all I do is rest.”
But Nate gave Lauren a look over Becca’s head. And that look said,get her a car.
“No big deal,” Lauren sighed, taking a healthy slug of her champagne. “I have drivers waiting outside already.” She’d dealt with transportation during the third period of the game, while everyone else was screaming encouragements toward the ice. “You should take”—she pulled her Katt Phone out of her bag—“number 117. It’s parked at the curb outside the rink door.”
Nate gave her a thankful nod. Then he went over to the coat rack in the corner and fetched Becca’s leopard-print jacket. He eased it onto her shoulders until Becca set down her empty soda glass and shoved her arms into the jacket, an irritated look on her face. “Pushy,” she muttered under her breath.
Lovesick, Lauren countered in her head. Did it make her a horrible person that she wanted to knock their heads together right now?
Probably.
“Let’s go, Nate!” Georgia said, clapping her hands. “You can’t be late for your own press conference.” She grabbed his suit jacket off a chair and herded him toward the door.
The fact that their fearless leader was actually wearing a suit spoke of tonight’s significance. Nate was a jeans-hoodie-and-800-dollar-sneakers kind of guy, even on game night.
Lauren followed her boss, the publicist, and Rebecca into the private elevator, wondering why she couldn’t at least be happy for Nate. He’d wanted this so badly. But all Lauren felt was dread for the next few weeks. And a healthy dose of anger, too.
Bitter much?Why yes, I still am.
This was an unpleasant realization. Most of the time, Lauren was able to stay away from both hockey and Brooklyn. In Manhattan, she was able to focus on her excellent job, her tidy little Murray Hill neighborhood apartment and the college degree she was just finishing up. She was too damn busy to feel bitter. But as the elevator slid lower toward the locker rooms, so did her stomach.
The doors parted momentarily on the main level for Becca’s exit. “Good night!” Miss Perky called, stepping off the elevator.
“Night, babe!” Georgia called after her. “Rest up! We need you back!”
Do we ever.
Becca gave them a cheeky salute and then walked away, while Nate watched, a worried look on his face. When the doors closed again, he finally gave his attention to Georgia. “Okay, what’s the scoop? I’m not used to giving victory speeches.”
“Just don’t sound smug,” Georgia begged. “Try for grateful.”
He smirked. “As in, Brooklyn should begratefulto me for bringing the team here?” She rolled her eyes and he laughed. “Joking! Okay, how about this—I’m proud of my team’s success at landing a play-offs spot.”
“I’mhumbledby my team’s inspiring efforts,” Georgia suggested.
“Sure. I can be humble.”
“No, you can’t,” Lauren interjected. “But you can fake it when necessary.”
Nate grinned. “You don’t do humble either.”
“That’s why you have me working in the office and not in front of the camera,” Lauren pointed out. “I’m going to start booking hotel rooms in D.C. in the morning. It’s not jinxing us if I do it now, right?” Nate had refused to even consider travel plans before they were officially headed to the first round of the play-offs.
