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A cheer rose from the seats nearest us and spread. On the big screen above Trier’s shoulder, I caught a glimpse of my own face.
Then he kissed me.
His jersey was soaked with sweat beneath my hands. I tasted salt on his upper lip and felt him smiling against my mouth.
For eleven years, I’d worked to make sure other people got their moments. I’d directed cameras, arranged interviews, and instinctively stepped out of the frame of photographs.
This time, I stayed where I was.
When Trier pulled back, I touched the red mark along his jaw. He turned his face into my palm.
“Congratulations,” I said.
He laughed, breathless, and glanced over his shoulder at his teammates. Then he leaned close to my ear. “It’s after.”
I knew what he meant.
“Already making plans?”
“Come over Thursday and bring a tape measure.”
Chapter twenty-seven
Trier
Everyone sent me the photograph of the PEACHES KNEW sign. Varga sent it twice. Anna’s Cup-night update showed Peaches asleep on my couch, one paw over her nose, midway through the third period. She’d slept through the championship.
Mark arrived Thursday with his jacket over one arm and a yellow tape measure in his hand. He kissed me, set both on the counter, and said, “Carla agreed to most of my proposal.”
I’d planned to take him straight to the closet and start measuring. Instead, I opened two beers.
“Which part of most are we celebrating?” I asked.
“My raise, for a start.”
I touched my bottle to his. “Excellent start.”
He sat beside me, tie loosened, and told me what he’d asked for. He wanted more authority over the department’s strategy and budget. He also asked for Leah’s title and salary to be brought into line with her responsibilities.
“I showed Carla what the department delivered during the Final. That included the Peaches numbers.” He smiled. “It was a good list.”
“You’ve had a good year.”
“Parts of it were outstanding.” His knee pressed mine. “The league offer helped establish what the work was worth. Carla already knew I’d been offered it and declined it.”
“So you couldn’t threaten her with New York.”
“I’d have had to call Graham and ask for the threat back.”
I laughed. Mark drank his beer, looking pleased with himself.
“What happens when a producer doesn’t like Leah’s answer?” I asked.
“He gets to dislike it. Calling me won’t change whose decision it is.”
“Even if you disagree with her?”
“That was Carla’s question.” He looked at me. “She asked if Leah makes a decision I wouldn’t have made, but it’s hers to make, will I leave it alone?”