“I told them you and I are engaged and about to get married,” she says so quickly I’m sure I’ve misheard her.
I blink. “And that … that convinced them?”
She bites her lip some more as she nods slowly. “I’m pretty sure, yeah. They were worried about my age—well, that waspart of it—and saying I would be married soon seemed to tip the scales. Married toyouspecifically. Someone who knows a lot about hockey. I also promised some other things, extra money and all that, but marrying you seems to be the linchpin.” She cringes. “I’m really,reallysorry. It just came out of my mouth. I’ll take it back, of course. But I wanted to pitch it to you first.”
I gulp back a laugh. Only because this is absurd. She’s talking about marrying me like it’s a business deal, which I guess in this case it is. I keep up with my usual coping mechanism for awkward situations: more flirting. “Are you proposing to me, Libby Bennet?”
Her cheeks turn pink again and she giggles nervously. “I think I am. Does that make me horrible?”
For some reason, my insides relax at her words. She’s being honest with me, and that’s important, especially after what Bryce did to Baylee. “Definitely not horrible,” I assure her. I sit back, hoping to ease her mind that even if I don’t accept this odd proposal, I won’t judge her for it. “I can see you definitely don’t want to back out on the sale…”
She shakes her head quickly. “I’ve already signed contracts with the network based on me buying this team. I have to make it happen somehow. And besides, I’mnotgoing to fail at this.” Determination sits solid in her expression. Libby Bennet is already a very successful woman, even at twenty-seven. What does she need to prove?
“And you think marrying me will keep the sale on track.” I can’t wrap my brain around it.
She shrugs. “Sports is one of those places women are still fighting every day. I’m only qualified if I’m married to someone who knows hockey. For appearances.” She says the last like it’s a dirty word.
“They wouldn’t go for it when they knew that I was your hands-on consultant?” It feels baffling to me. I can’t imagine someone only taking me more seriously if I had a wife—and yet, Baylee is dismissed every day because she’s a woman. Rich menhave even insisted that they needed to talk numbers with me, when she knows them all as well as I do, if not better.
Libby shakes her head tightly. “Nor does the fact that I’m the one that’s putting up all the money.” She shrugs, like it’s not a big deal she’s being dismissed like this.
Anger tightens in my stomach. “Is there any way we can make them sell even without getting married?” I can’t help asking. Her shoulders fall in defeat, and I know she thinks it’s because I’m going to refuse. I go on. “Can’t we prove to them that you’re completely capable, even young and unmarried?”
“I don’t think so.” She looks down at her hands. Her jaw is still clenched, but she’s working it in a way that warns me she’s holding back tears.
“What about your family?” I ask. “Can’t they help?”
If anything, she clenches her jaw tighter. “Yeah. My dad or Ellie could probably call up Mr. Stevens and lecture him and threaten things, but then it would be more of the same. My family rescuing me when I get into something tricky.” She laughs without any warmth. “This might be crazy and dumb, but it wasmyidea. My decision. My way of fixing something.” She draws in a deep breath. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said something so impulsive to the board, but I could see it slipping through my fingers … I’ll figure out something.”
I could probably find myself a job if this thing with Libby falls through, but … I don’t want to. What Libby offered me, the chance to shape a team, to shape the futures of young hockey players, is exactly what I want to do. I’ve seen firsthand how a good coach or a bad coach, a good team or a toxic team, can change the whole trajectory of a kid’s hockey career. The little things matter. Some of my favorite times were when I got to be a mentor player to a younger guy on the team. This hockey team obviously means even more to Libby, so I guess I can understand why she said something in desperation.
“You’re actually considering this,” Libby says in shock, interrupting my thoughts.
I laugh. “Isn’t that why you called me over here?”
She opens her mouth but doesn’t say anything. She shrugs and shakes her head. “I don’t know. No? Yes? I called because…” She swallows. “It seemed like something I should tell you.”
“But we could do it,” I point out.
She shakes her head more firmly now. “You think because I gave you ten million dollars you have to.”
It’s definitely a part of it. Libby made a sacrifice for me. I want to make one for her. Having watched my parents’ thirty-five-year-long marriage—watching them love each other, doing anything for the other—tells me that marriage is a priceless thing. But the logical side of me? The side that has seen my friends’ marriages end after a few years because life with a pro athlete is tough. That side says, what is a couple years with Libby for ten million dollars? I feel guilty for dismissing something that’s so special. But when it’s real? It will be.
This is business, and this is just a legal partnership.
“I don’t think Ihaveto,” I correct her.
“Youwantto?” Her mouth drops open.
I raise my eyebrows. “Libby Bennet. You’re a beautiful, confident, powerful woman. Whywouldn’tI want to?”
Libby freezes. Somehow, amidst all those compliments, I’ve said the wrong thing.
“What?” I ask. “Did I say something wrong?” Maybe calling her powerful when she had to come to me for this favor rubbed her the wrong way.
She shakes herself. “Nothing. But the first rule will be no flirting.”
“Um…” I can’t help but think they’re going to call our marriage a sham right off if I can’t flirt with my wife.
