She waves at me impatiently. “I mean, just between us. Obviously you can flirt in public. If we do this,” she adds quickly.
“We’re doing this.” I sit forward and eye her. “I want that jobof building this team, and if this is the way we need to do it, I’m in.”
She studies me. “You’re crazy.”
I chuckle. “It’s a piece of paper, Libby. A business deal. How am I crazy to accept it for ten million dollars?”
“I didn’t give you, personally, ten million dollars,” she reminds me.
“Whatever. I owe you.”
“You don’t,” she says insistently.
I let it go. She’s not winning this argument.
We stare at each other for several moments. I catch myself from leaning forward. No flirting in private, for whatever reason.
“Thisiscrazy,” she murmurs to herself.
“Only because this is what it takes to buy a minor-league hockey team,” I point out.
“Well, we agree on that.” She huffs, then gives a decisive nod. “Okay, first thing, we have to tell my family we’ve been dating in secret for a while. Have a whole story. Marrying a guy on a whim is exactly what the old Libby would do, even though I haven’t made a stupid decision like that for years. They’ll freak out. And worry.”
“You’ve married other guys on a whim?” I laugh.
“Married? No. But I’ve made other dumb decisions.” She shakes her head at those words. “Well, I’ve been dumb.”
“You don’t trust them with the truth?” I ask.
“If you mean, can they keep a secret? Yes. They would never leak it to anyone that it’s all for show, but they’d never let us go through with it. They’d step in with the board or something, and we’d be right back at my family being the one to rescue me.”
She must have her reasons for not wanting her family to step in here, but if she wanted to expound on them, she would.
She stands up and starts pacing in front of me. She’s wearing a pair of lightweight, wide-leg black pants that swish lightly against her legs as she walks. Her dark hair sways back andforth, loose against her back in waves. “Let’s just adjust the truth. We met at one of your early Redhaven fundraisers and went out right away but kept it a secret. They won’t ask why—being me is reason enough.” She rounds on me. “What about your sister? Will she buy that we’ve been dating in secret?”
I shake my head. “Nope. But I can tell her the truth.”
Libby shakes her head. “No. We can’t tell anyone the truth. Too much risk that they’ll leak it to the press.”
“She won’t believe it,” I reiterate. “But I promise we can trust her.”
Libby mouths the wordwelike it surprises her. But we are in this together. We. A team.
“She won’t tell anyone?” She bites the inside of her cheek anxiously. I remind myself that she’s not distrustful of Baylee—she’s lived a life where she can’t trust many people, period.
“Absolutely.” Baylee’s going to think I’ve lost my mind, but she won’t say anything. “I promise,” I add in a gentle tone.
Libby eyes me for a moment before nodding and then continuing to pace. It’s probably difficult for her to rely on someone she doesn’t know yet. I won’t fault her for that. “What about your parents?” she asks.
“I don’t want to burden them with the truth,” I say. “Since they don’t live in Houston, I think they’ll believe that I could be dating someone and not have told them. But if they get pressed about us, I want them to be able to say what they think is the truth and not have to lie.”
Libby’s expression softens, like she gets that lying to them is the kinder thing to do here. “They’ve already been through a lot, I bet. I mean, with the media, after everything that happened with Bryce.”
My chest tightens with the memories of being hounded by reporters after everything went down with Bryce. I was used to unkind things being flung my way after eight years playing pro hockey. My family wasn’t.
“Yeah,” I say simply.
We share a look of understanding, and she goes on. “We’ll give as few details to the press as possible.”
