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That explained a lot about Mikah, actually. He may have taken that advice too far into his private life, though, because she for one wanted to know more about what made him tick.
Mikah wound a strand of her hair around his index finger. The gentle gesture alerted her nerve endings and her imagination. She wanted his hands threaded into the length. Her lips ached for his on hers. Was he feeling the same? Piper looked up at him and arched her eyebrows.
CHAPTER 17
Mikah flushed and slowly untangled his finger like he wasn’t playing with her hair. “Bit of fluff. I got it.”
She’d have to style it loose more often. “Thanks.”
Liam popped up and waved in their direction. “Here’s Mikah.”
Mikah strode forward and slid into the interview chair
The older reporter leaned forward. “What does your father think of the season?”
Yikes. Intrusive, but reasonable, because his father was a former player. She’d seen the trophies that proved he was a champion. So many trophies. Imagine if history majors covered their walls with their A+ papers. Don’t judge. Diplomas were sort of the equivalent. And hers and Calista’s undergrad diplomas were on the wall in the family room.
Mikah kept his professional expression. “My father wishes us well.”
“And your brother?” A second reporter piped up. “Zee is something. No player in the NHL is as consistent as Zee—The End All.” The reporter tacked on Zee’s team nickname.
Mikah shrugged. “He wishes us less well.” His answer was dry, without animosity, practiced, but effective.
The reporters chuckled.
The Q&A went on like that until Kiernan replaced him.
When all the interviews and individual photos were done, the team did group photos. Dodo had arrived at this point. He stood in front of the men in a dark suit holding the lucky puck.
Next, Dodo did the same pose with the dance team. Piper was like a Tudor-era castle spy watching his activities. His actions were that of a benevolent owner. Luckily, she had nothing suspicious to report back. Though Piper would suggest adding creative backdrops for next time. Some giant pucks or huge numbers representing their jerseys would be cool.
Lastly, the guys stepped in front of a green screen sans jerseys, wow. The reporters had left at this point. Piper moved closer until she stood a few feet behind the photographer and could see the images: chests, abs, biceps. Stunning, but generic, not one closeup of number sixty-five’s cobalt eyes or the curve of his lips. Piper took those shots.
Dodo came up to her and made a shooing motion. “Let the photographer take the photos.”
How was she stopping him? Whatever. Working with Dodo was not like working with Dahlia. He wasn’t all about her opinions or letting her run things. His loss. But at least she could report back to Dahlia what Dodo was up to. Nothing. Piper went back to the bench. This was a good location to see all the action.
Including the comings and goings.
Coming in the door now was Warren. Was he taking a new interest in his family’s hockey team? Or was he here for another reason? Piper examined him with a cool head and cold heart. Nice-looking man, well-dressed, confident. She felt nothing. He went straight to Dodo. Who knew what they talked about? She could image their conversation. Dodo: Hey brother, got any unused wedding paraphernalia I can borrow for my own wedding with Dahlia?
Warren: You know it. By-the-by, are there any more of my exes you’re going to hire? WTH, man?
Warren turned and headed her way. Piper clenched her back teeth. Just because she didn’t care about him anymore didn’t mean she wanted him near her, and she wasn’t the only one watching him.
Willow, who hadn’t spoken to her all day, stared at them from across the room, easy to spot in her red off-the-shoulder top. Terrific. Warren approaching Piper was not going to improve their working relationship.
“Can we talk?” Warren used a warm, quiet voice.
Piper was not fooled. Warren had the gift of compelling vocal tones, not the gift of sincerity. “No need.” She shifted down the bench away from him.
Warren stepped in front of her. “I’ve been re-evaluating, and I owe a few people apologies. I need to apologize to you.”
Piper did not care what he needed. “We’re good.” Piper rose and headed toward the makeup area, which was being packed up. Warren had allergies. He’d asked her not to wear perfume when they had gone out. The lingering hairspray and heavy cosmetic fragrances would deter him.
Warren followed her. His nostrils twitched, but he didn’t comment on the chemical smells. “I thought you should know, I’ve got my head on straight now. I know I screwed up, but after I lost you, things weren’t right for me.”
Oh. He was not blaming her for his busted wedding. “Willow’s the one you should be speaking with.” Piper looked over her shoulder, but for once, Willow was not within eyeline glaring at her. “She’s here somewhere.”
