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“I’d give up hockey right this second if that was what it would take to get you back. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you like everyone else in your life. I would never leave you. You are it for me, Charlotte.”
My stomach clenches, and I feel as though I will be sick. As much as I care for Alex, we cannot pursue a relationship without ruining what I have with Mickey and my clients.
“I’m sorry, Alex, but nothing has changed since we were together last. Mickey still has rules.”
“What if I can get Mickey to change the rules?” His tone is desperate. “Would things be different between us if that were to happen?”
“Of course, it would, Alex. You’ve known Mickey your entire life, and that means you also know that he does not make exceptions. For anyone. He would kill me if he ever found out we were having this conversation or that we ate dinner together.”
Alex presses his lips to my cheek, and a chill runs down my spine, igniting every sensitive part of my body at once. “If his approval is what we need to be together, then I won’t stop until I get it. I promise.”
Our lips are so close, I think about kissing him, and I can tell he has the same idea.
Instead, he backs up, his features matching the seriousness in his tone. “Wait for me.”
“I’ll wait for you,” I mutter as he takes my hand and pulls it up to his lips. “Of course I will.”
Alex smiles. “I need to go before I kiss you, and once I kiss you, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
He begins to walk toward his apartment and stops when I say, “Alex, for the record, I’m in love with you, too.”
He pivots his foot and spins around, grinning. “Good, because I’m going for the win.”
Alex
“What do you need us to do?” Kane stares at me, confused. “Coach is my girl. I wish she had given me a shot instead of your punk ass”—he stops to laugh—“but I don’t have a problem with it.”
Donovan raises a highball glass to his lips and chugs down the amber liquid. “Yeah, I don’t see what difference it will make to Mickey if we say we’re okay with you and Coach dating.”
Leaning my arm on the bar, I sigh. “Because he needs to see that his clients are okay with it. If I can get some of them on board, then I might be able to change his mind about his stupid fucking rules. That’s why I wanted you guys to come here tonight. I need you to back me up.”
I rented the private room at Luciano’s for the occasion. Operation Get Charlotte Back is in full effect. For our first real date in public, I took Charlotte here. She chose it because of the privacy. I guess that’s one of the perks of eating in a restaurant owned and operated by the Mafia.
The restaurant is much larger than it appears from the outside with a second floor that overlooks an open kitchen you can see into from every angle. It has a rustic Italian vibe with brick walls, dark bamboo floors, and a wine bar made of casks, set up for tastings.
Inside the private room, we have our own bar and bartender—though I’m nursing a Cherry Coke—and the circular booths remind me of something from a Mafia movie. Charlotte loves it here, and they have the best food I have ever tasted.
“Mickey is here,” Kane says under his breath, his eyes fixed on the door behind me. “We’ve got your back. Don’t worry.”
Donovan clamps his hand down on my shoulder, his breath reeking of whiskey. “Whatever you need, man.”
“So, what is so important that I had to drive from Manhattan in rush hour traffic?” Mickey asks, walking up to the bar without making eye contact. He motions for the bartender with his hand, and he shuffles down to meet him. “Jack and Coke.”
Then, he pulls the stool next to me out from the bar and takes a seat, so he is facing all three of us. “Are we having a team meeting?” Mickey reaches over to grab his drink from the bartender and takes a long sip.
“Sort of, Mick.” I hunch forward and lean closer to him. “Look, I need to talk to you about Charlotte.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, his gaze traveling down the row until he reaches Kane, and then he shakes his head, disappointed, before gulping down the rest of his drink. I hope Mick the Dick is not about to come out and play because I really hate dealing with him when he’s hammered and in asshole mode.
“Bartender”—he raises his empty glass in the air—“Keep ’em coming.”
“Mick, I need you somewhat coherent. Can you cool it with the Jack until after we talk?”
“Fine, then talk. You know how I feel about you and Charlotte. She’s my agent and my employee, and I am not going to have you ruining my best earner, so you can have a fling.”
I groan in frustration. “It was never just a fling with Charlotte. I am in love with her.”
His mouth opens wide in shock, but he doesn’t say anything and allows me to continue.
