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“Very well.” Brigitte nods as I step into the elevator. “Would you like a card made out to her, too?”
“Yes. Have it say, ‘You owe me, Lee. And I fully intend to collect.’”
I don’t miss how my secretary’s jaw falls to the floor or how quickly she picks it back up to avoid offending me, just in time for the elevator doors to close on her semi-astonished face.
Not that her opinion of me is any concern of mine.
In fact, people’s perception of me has never really bothered me. I can understand why she’s taken aback, though. I have never asked her to run such an errand in the years she’s been working for me.
I’m not the type of man who buys flowers.
I must be getting sentimental in my old age.
Hmm.
If I had any shame or even a shred of decency whatsoever, I wouldn’t be sending flowers to a woman ten years younger than me just to rile her up a bit. I would leave the poor girl alone and let the one torrid night we shared together be the end of it.
If only I could erase that night from my memory as effortlessly as I dismiss other people’s judgment of me.
Once I reach Rex’s floor, I make sure to keep in check the smile that always springs forth whenever I’m thinking about fucking sweet Piper Lee.
“Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you’d get here,” Rex welcomes as I step into his office. “Everything good down on the rink?”
“Are you really interested? Because Coach Byrne is under the impression that you no longer care what happens in your own arena.”
“Hogwash!” he retorts insulted. “Of course, I care.”
“Then you’ll have to explain to him why you didn’t show up for the pre-season to give your traditional pep talk this year. If he looked butthurt about it, I can only imagine how the players must have felt when they realized you weren’t there to cheer them on.”
“I meant to go…” he begins to say, his cheery mood long forgotten.
“But something more important than your team came up?” I finish for him.
“You know damn well it didn’t. It’s just… too many memories,” he says as if it were all the explanation I need. To someone else, it might not have been, but to me, it’s enough.
“Why don’t you grab a seat, Trent,” he says, wanting to move the topic away from why he’s been so checked out recently from the club’s affairs.
“How come I have a feeling I’m not going to like whatever news you’re about to unload on me? Perhaps I should remain standing just in case I need to make a run for it,” I try to joke, but when Rex doesn’t so much as crack a smile, I know that he means business.
“Trust me, Trent. You’ll want to sit down for this.”
“Well, that’s a reassuring start,” I retort sarcastically. “Does this talk have anything to do with a certain Lawrence Preston III?”
When Rex’s eyes go wide, I have my answer.
“Thought so,” I grumble, taking a seat on his green velvet sofa and spreading my arms over its headrest. “You’ve been acting more peculiar lately since his return.
“I didn’t realize I had been that obvious. I wasn’t even sure you knew who he was.”
“I make it my business to know everything that might affect my team. And that includes its club owner. That’s why you’ve hired me to be the Guardians’ General Manager, after all.”
“Very true.” He releases a long exhale. “I have to hand it to you, Trent. You have always been one step ahead of everyone. Even me.”
“That shouldn’t be the case. I should be made privy to everything happening around here.”
“That may be so, but I’m still the one in charge. For the time being, anyway.”
What the fuck?
