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“It’s true.”
She stuck her shoes under one arm. Her heart pinched and her eyes stung, and before she shattered completely, she said, “Thank you for all you’ve done to help me out.” She should end it all right now, while she still had a shred of pride, but God help her, she couldn’t force her heart to say good-bye. Not yet. “It’s best if we just keep this strictly business from now until the middle of next month.”
Chapter 15
•love me like you do
The Sycamore Room inside the Four Seasons glowed with golden candlelight. Gold tablecloths and fine white china adorned round tables with centerpieces made of exotic flowers. Hockey legends crowded the tables, paddleboards in hand. “Next up we have an all-inclusive trip to Honolulu,” the auctioneer announced. “Let’s start this off at two thousand. Two thousand—can I hear twenty-two.”
As the bidding escalated around him, Sean glanced at the woman pretending to be a statue by his side. A beautiful statue in a red dress. Waist cinched in, cleavage spilling out. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
He hadn’t seen Lexie for two days. Not since she’d stormed out of his apartment.
“Your dress is too low on top.”
She held up her paddle. “I don’t care what you think.”
She was pissed off? So was he. She’d done that thing women do when good sex made their heads all soft and mushy. He’d thought Lexie was smarter than most women. “Is that one of those standard responses you write in your memos?”
“Yes.” She lowered the paddle without even glancing in his direction. “Section one, subsection b, under ‘leave me alone, Sean.’”
He didn’t know what she was the most mad about. That he hadn’t gone soft in the head, too, or that he’d reminded her of how many times she’d thought she was in love recently. “Love is never angry,” he pointed out. “Section five. Random bullshit.” He’d tried to contact her repeatedly, but she’d returned only one of his texts. I’m going with Marie to the benefit, she’d written. I don’t need you to pick me up. He’d debated on whether to even show up tonight. In the end, he’d put on a suit and tie because he was expected to show. Not because he hadn’t been able to stay away.
He was exhausted, Lexie was pissed off, and to top it off, her friend Marie sat at a table behind him, her eyeballs burning holes in his back.
“I’m going to the bar. Need anything?” he asked the statue.
“No thanks.”
Sean set his paddle on the table and stood. He and Lexie were good together, in and out of bed. When she realized that what she felt was lust, not love, she’d come around. He just hoped it was sooner rather than later and she didn’t waste any more time on her temper tantrum. They had only a little over two weeks before the whole fake breakup thing.
Two weeks, he thought as he moved into the next room and sat at the bar. And she was wasting it. “Vodka. Splash of tonic,” he told the bartender, and pulled out his wallet. Yeah, it was a vodka kind of night.
“Hey, Knox.” Chucky patted him on the shoulder and ordered a Bud Light. “I just lost out to Olsen for that vacation.” The left wingman then said, “Lexie looks hot tonight. Damn.”
Sean had an irrational urge to punch Chucky in the head.
“Hey, Knox and Chucky.” Butch hobbled up to the bar, still walking slow after the high stick incident. “Lexie is looking hot tonight.”
Sean stuffed the tip jar. “How’s your dick, Butch?”
“It’s my groin.”
He stood. “Same thing.” Drink in hand, he moved out into the hall. There were several former Chinooks and hockey greats at the Four Seasons. Sean purposely chatted up Sam LeClaire, Ty Savage, and old-school enforcer Rob Sutter. None of the three men knew anything about him and Lexie. Their fake relationship was the last thing he wanted to talk about, and he could relax and shoot the shit with guys who knew what it was like to play in the finals and win the cup. He swallowed half his drink and felt the tension between his shoulders ease. He laughed at jokes that only men in their positions understood. Lexie would come around. If not, there were plenty more beautiful women in the world.
“Paul’s out with a torn rotator,” he said as they talked Stanley Cup strategy. Out of the corner of his left eye, he caught a flash of red. He looked past LeClaire’s shoulder, and his gaze landed on the tight waist of Lexie’s dress and full skirt. She moved into the women’s restroom, and he excused himself before he thought better of it.
He pulled up the cuff of his shirt and glanced at his watch. Eight-thirty. He could leave without appearing to dip out early. He shoved a shoulder into the wall and waited a few moments for her to appear. There were plenty more beautiful women in the world, but he liked Lexie. Her life interested him. She interested him.
“Lexie.” He straightened and stepped in front of her. “I’m leaving.”
“Okay.”
She looked beyond him, and he raised a hand to the side of her face. “Come with me.”
“No.” Her gaze finally met his. “That’s impossible.”
