Page 161 of My Lucky Charm

But he doesn’t get to finish because an older woman wearing a navy blue sequined gown walks right up to him and grabs his arm. “Well, sir, you are the best thing that happened to the Comets this year, Grayson Hawke.” She pats his arm in a forceful staccato as she says this.

Gray looks like a baby who’s just been handed to a politician for a photo op.

His eyes hang on mine, which is strange because he and I have barely been cordial to each other the past few weeks.

The older woman pulls him away, leaving me standing there, alone.

I notice Gray keeps looking in my direction, as if trying to escape. The way he looks at me ignites my imagination and has me searching for someone—anyone—to distract me. I turn and walk into the arena, where the ice has been covered and several tables have been set up for dinner. They’re beautifully decorated, with white linens and red roses, and there’s a stage on one side, where I assume Mark Rosen and the foundation president and a bunch of other very important people will speak tonight.

A waiter walks by with a tray of champagne, and I take a glass just so I have something to do with my hands. I go to take a tiny sip, when another waiter swipes the glass away from me.

I’m so stunned, I can’t speak, but then, in one fluid movement, he hands me a different glass. “We’re told this is more to your liking.”

I glance down at the champagne flute, three quarters of the way filled with a brown liquid, and the waiter rushes off like some sort of busy butler in an episode of Downton Abbey.

I sniff . . . and realize it’s Dr Pepper. I can’t help it, I smile. I glance up and find Gray watching me over the head of the older woman he still hasn’t managed to escape from.

She’s a chatty one.

I lift the glass as if to say “Thank you,” and he nods at me, but doesn’t look away.

I hold his gaze as he presses a hand on the woman’s arm, says something to her, then starts walking in my direction. He hasn’t broken eye contact, and I’m completely frozen.

I’ve seen this intense expression before.

The night he kissed me in the parking lot.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, oh geez, here he comes, stay calm . . .

I draw in a breath, bracing myself for whatever is about to happen, certain that my resolve is no match for his. And then, when he’s a few yards away, Mark Rosen stops him.

I feel my shoulders drop in disappointment as Gray turns his attention to the owner of the Comets.

I use the moment to gather myself and turn away, drawing in three slow, deep breaths, then take a long drink of the fancified soda.

“You okay?”

I glance up and see Raya, wearing a beautiful red dress and looking like she just stepped off a runway. My nerves settle at the sight of a friendly-ish face. “You look fantastic! What are you doing here?” I look around the room, my eyes wide. “Did you finally say yes to a date with Finn?”

She laughs. “No, I’m here because I am officially taking the job with the Chicago Comets.”

“For real?”

She smiles. “I haven’t started yet, but yes. I’m going to be replacing Beverly.”

“Where’s Beverly going?”

“Spain, she said. And Greece and France.” Raya shrugs. “She wanted to retire.”

“Well, congratulations, Ray. I’m happy for you. The team is lucky to have someone like you to resource their humans.” I glance back and see that Gray is still talking to Rosen.

Her smile slowly fades. “Are you okay? You looked like you were going to be sick a minute ago.”

“I’m good,” I say. I don’t want to try and explain that being a robotic version of myself has taken its toll. Or that none of my ideas on how to manage my life have turned out to be the right ones. Or that I really, really want to know if Gray was coming over here for a specific reason.

She narrows her eyes but doesn’t press. “Do you know where you’re sitting yet?”

I shake my head. “But I’m not the new head of HR, so probably not anywhere near you.”

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