Lexi sat rigidly in her chair, hands folded tight over the curve of her stomach, smile stretched thin and polite in a way Slater had only ever seen when she was deeply and profoundly uncomfortable. Connor would kick his ass if he let this go on for even another minute.
“Leave her alone.” The words came out low and sharp and edged with enough warning to slice through the room.
Cal turned slowly, and for a split second, something like surprise flickered across his face. Then the familiar, public grin slid into place.
“Ah, there you are,” he said, arms held out in welcome as if they were meeting for coffee. “I was just talking with Lexi here about the big event.”
Lexi shot Slater a pleading look. “I was just about to grab some tea,” she said quickly, already pushing back from her chair. “Doctor’s orders. Hydration.” She grabbed her purse with slightly shaky hands and stood, carefully avoiding Cal as she moved around him. “It was…nice to meet you, Cal. I’ll be back in a bit, Slater.” And without another word, she was out the door. Slater could practically hear her footsteps racing away.
It didn’t take long for the silence to hit them hard.
But he didn’t move farther into the room. He stayed planted just inside the doorway, arms crossed, every muscle in his body locked tight. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
Cal sighed like Slater was being mildly unreasonable instead of openly hostile. “I came to talk to you. I’ve reached out several times, but you’ve been avoiding my calls.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“With what?” Cal gestured vaguely toward the resort. “This?”
Slater’s jaw tightened. “You don’t get to walk into my place of work—a place that I own—and corner a pregnant woman because you couldn’t take the hint.”
“I wasn’t cornering her,” Cal said, affronted. “I was being friendly.”
“She looked like she wanted to crawl under the desk.”
Cal waved a dismissive hand. “People get nervous around me because I’m famous. Comes with the territory.”
There it was, that effortless assumption that the world revolved around him.
Finally, Slater took a slow step farther into the office, closing the door behind him. “You’re not here to catch up,” he said flatly. “So let’s skip the performance. What do you want?”
Cal’s smile faltered just a fraction. “Like I said, I’ve been reaching out because the league is doing something special,” he said. “They’re calling it Cal Slater Day. You know, they’re retiring my jersey and there’s going to be a big ceremony on the field.”
“I’m aware,” Slater said. “You’ve only mentioned it in every voicemail.”
“Okay, well…I figured you might want to see it.”
“See what?”
“Well…all of it. Me. It’s a big deal.” He grinned. “I’m a big deal.”
“I’ll pass,” he replied dryly.
“But I want you there.”
The words landed harder than Slater expected, but he shoved the reaction down instantly. “Please. You don’t need me there. You’ve got teammates,” he said. “Former players. Coaches. Half the league worships you. I’m sure you won’t be lonely.”
There was a pause; Cal hesitated just long enough for a wave of unease to wash over him. “What?” he demanded.
Cal exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare, almost sheepish gesture that would’ve meant more if Slater didn’t know him so well. “The publicists,” he began slowly. “They think it’ll look better if family’s there. You know, make it more… personal. There’s going to be a parade on the field. You’d get your own classic car driving you around. It’ll be pretty cool. Your grandparents are going to be there.”
For a moment, all he could do was blink.
“You’re kidding me.”
“They just think it tells a better story,” Cal said quickly. “Shows the world that I’m a well-rounded guy. Legendary career, supportive family, legacy…”
“Legacy,” Slater repeated, a humorless laugh escaping him. “That’s what this is about? Optics?”
