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"It's just—I don't know," Holly starts. Here it comes. She's about to start a diatribe about how she doesn't understand why I broke up with Ryan. "I think you still love him, Avery. I don't understand why you broke things off, and you never talk about it."
Holly's right. I never talk about Ryan. I don't want to talk about him because it still makes me miserable. My brain starts racing in circles, and then I start second-guessing myself. I know Holly's onto my game. I date and flirt, but I never take it further than that. I don't see the point in pursuing a relationship with someone when I know my heart isn't in it. I've thought about trying casual sex, but I can't bring myself to do it.
It's ridiculous. I make myself crazy. It's not like Ryan has been sitting around pining for me for the last seven years. He has a long-term girlfriend, for fuck's sake. They probably have fantastic sex every night. And I would know because Ryan has an excellent bedroom game. Just thinking about him and me and all the glorious times we had makes me hot and bothered.
There is something twisted and wrong with me. Thinking about Ryan with someone else makes me want to grind my teeth and maybe vomit. It's crazy! I broke up with him. Me! He has every right to bang all of Hollywood if he wants.
"He has a girlfriend, Holly. He's been dating Tyra Price for two years."
"Whatever. I don't see it. They have zero chemistry on camera. I'm getting serious 'just friends' vibes from those two, and something doesn't add up."
I roll my eyes at Holly just as her phone rings, and she answers.
I stand and stroll out of our office. It's time for a smoothie or something I can shove into my mouth so I don't have to answer Holly's inquisition.
Sometimes I can't believe this is our office. Last fall, Holly and I were underlings waiting for a promotion, and now we're the bosses. Our shit show of an ex-boss, Rick Moran was blackmailing clients, including Holly's father. Then, JP Lighthouse's founder, JP Leighton, retired. After a series of other fortunate events, Holly and I took over.
JP Leighton is the cutest, kindest man I've ever met. He adores his wife, but he has no kids and wanted to leave his company in good hands. So, he made Holly and me an offer we couldn't refuse. After the blackmailing scandal, we rebranded the company SASS—Sparks and Avery Sports Specialists—with JP maintaining forty-nine percent of the company shares.
With help from my brothers and Luke, Holly and I bought into the partnership and became a team of badass public relations bitches. We've since hired more personnel and downsized to focus primarily on hockey, with our primary client being the Northmen hockey team.
I stroll over to Spenser, our office secretary and gossipy know-it-all. He's perfect. Good-looking with rich brown hair and warm chocolate eyes flecked with copper. He has a strong jaw, a chin dimple and a well-toned body. Plus, he smells fabulous every day and gives the best hugs. He dresses to perfection and always looks sharp in designer clothing, even though our company policy is business casual.
If I had to guess, I'd say ninety-nine percent of the women in our office are in love with him. Too bad he's one thousand percent gay. The good ones always are.
"What's got you looking so morose?" Spenser asks, sliding his headset from his ears.
"Nothing. I just need something to eat."
"And I just need Henry Cavill to walk through that door."
I laugh. I wouldn't mind Henry Cavill, either. For him, I might make an exception.
"Just Deadline Day stuff. It's always stressful."
We joke for a while before I head over to talk to Tabby, our numbers magician. She updates me on some numbers and different ways we can minimize expenses. That girl is seriously nuts. When I look at a spreadsheet of numbers, it may as well be Swahili. Tabby sees numbers like Da Vinci paints.
I wander around the office checking on various things and talking to people, watching the minutes and hours tick by, closer and close to the deadline. I circle back to our office several times, but I’m too antsy to sit still. So naturally I choose to eat my emotions and go looking for more snacks.
Skittles and protein bar in hand, I head back to my desk. Holly is still on the phone, taking mad notes on her paper pad. It's almost three o'clock. Thank God!
She hangs up the phone and stares at me with a funny look.
I'm about to ask what the hell is going on when I hear the SportsCentre Trade Update sounds again. I turn my head to the screen as the host starts talking and two team logos appear: Toronto and Los Angeles.
"We have a deadline deal. The Toronto Northmen have announced they have traded backup goaltender Cole Smyth, prospects Jeremy Thompson and Zach Handler, and a conditional second-round pick for Los Angeles star centreman Ryan Gunner."
A picture of Ryan flashes across the screen as my heart pounds in my chest.No, no, no. This cannot be happening.I look over at Holly, who looks back with sympathy but with a hint of smugness as the announcer keeps talking.
"Joining us now on FaceTime is Ryan Gunner. How are you, Ryan?"
He appears on the TV screen with a broad smile on his face. The image is a little grainy, but it still makes my heart stutter.
"Good, thanks, guys."
"So tell us, how does it feel to come home to a team like Toronto?"
"I've always respected the Northmen organization. They have a great history and a fantastic team. They'll be competitive for years to come, and I want to be a part of that if I can. I've loved my time with the Rebels, but it's time for a change."
