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Oscar frowned. “Okay. I get it.”
“He wasn’t even in the country when Timmy was born,” Ellen said.
“Ellen, please,” Oscar growled. He put his hands to his desk. “I want that event to happen.”
“For the NICU?”
Oscar nodded.
“Not with my daughter’s name on it. Change it.”
“You’ll appear.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll appear. I’ll mention my daughter, but not by name.”
“I want you on center ice with nurses and doctors and parents,” Oscar said. “I want you at events for it. To raise awareness and money.”
I put my right hand out and Oscar jumped back, squealing with fear.
“Whoa, Oscar, I’m just trying to shake your hand,” I said. “We have a deal.”
Oscar let out a nervous laugh. “Right. Yes. Of course.”
Oscar shook my hand.
He smiled.
“I think I like this,” he said. “This is good. I like your attitude.”
“Oscar, shut up,” I said. “Call Boston.”
I glanced at Tucker and he looked ready to pass out.
It took guts to talk to a billionaire the way I just had.
Call it love. Call it protection.
I knew what I wanted and I was going to forever fight for it.
As I started to walk away, Ellen stood up and rushed to join me.
Once outside Oscar’s office, she smiled at me.
“Thank you,” I said to her.
“Hey, anytime I get to see my husband squeal and be reminded that he’s five-foot-eight and weighs next to nothing… it’s a good day.”
“I didn’t think you’d help me,” I said.
“For some reason, Atlas, I have a soft spot for you,” Ellen said. “Maybe I secretly just want a bad boy hockey player in my bed. Who knows. But you found love. You have a family. I hated the idea of you leaving us.”
“Thank you for answering my call and setting this up.”
“Just do me one favor.”
“What?” I asked.
“Get Tucker something to drink so he calms down,” Ellen said.
