Breakout (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance) (9 page)

Right?

I mean, he didn’t even bat an eye at Kenley when he met her.

But Kenley wasn’t available.

Kimberlee is.

I swallow hard and stare at her perfect image, her perfume swirling in the air around me, and I feel sick.

With uneasiness in my chest, I begin to edit the woman who has made it clear she’s after the only man I’ve ever wanted.

The game is on, apparently.

I’m not the only one who wants Niko.

And I pray that Kimberlee isn’t going to screw everything up between us.

Chapter 13

The One Online Dating Service Profile Question:
You’re in the early stages of a relationship. A holiday is approaching. Do you ask him/her to spend the holiday with you? Is it too much? Too scary? Too bold?

My write-in answer:
Dare I even ask Niko to Thanksgiving dinner? Would it freak him out? Especially because we’re just coworkers? How do I ask him without making it sound like a date, but more than friends? I’ve never felt more clueless in my life . . .

“Sweetheart, are you sure can’t take off work to come to Aspen?” Mom asks as she folds some sweaters to put into her suitcase. “It doesn’t feel right to have Thanksgiving there without you.”

I watch as she lines up her cashmere sweaters and gently places them in her black Prada suitcase. It’s Monday night, and I came over to have dinner with Mom and Dad after a hellacious day editing Kimberlee’s God-awful footage and trying not to obsess over her meeting with Niko today.

Which is proving to be statistically impossible to do, but at least talking to my mom is forcing me to at least hit the pause button on that train of thought.

So here I am, sitting in my mom’s room as she gets ready to leave for our cabin in Aspen. She always goes a week early to get everything lined up for all the guests coming in, but this year, for the first time, I won’t be one of them.

“Mom,” I say, tracing my fingers over the silver tone-on-tone stripes in her duvet, “I was asked to edit a hockey game the night before Thanksgiving and the night after. This is when staff people are off, and this is my chance to do edit highlights for the game intermissions. I really want to do it.”

“But it’s the holidays.” Mom pauses and locks her hazel eyes on mine. “I can’t imagine a holiday without you. Maybe we should stay here instead.”

“No,” I say firmly. “You know Dad needs to ski to decompress. He loves Colorado. And the rest of the family will be there, too.”

Mom nods. She knows I’m right. Dad is the CFO of an oil company in Dallas and has a very high-pressured job. He needs to be in Aspen to step away from work, if only for a week.

“Well, maybe we can fly you in and back on Thanksgiving Day,” Mom says hopefully.

I shake my head. “No, I can’t take the chance of being stuck. I have to show I can step in when needed. I’m going to prove to them I’m reliable and that I can cut a live show edit in addition to a magazine.”

“But you won’t be with family,” Mom says.

“Mom,” I say firmly, “I’m going to have Thanksgiving at CiCi’s. I’ll be with Amanda and Kenley. It’ll be fine. I won’t be lonely, I promise.”

I wonder what Niko will be doing
, I think, hitting the play button on thoughts of him
. He hadn’t mentioned the holiday in our conversations. Would he fly back to Baltimore for the day? I bet his family would insist on tha—

“A holiday with CiCi, I can’t even imagine,” Mom declares, interrupting my thoughts as she goes back to packing things into her suitcase.

I stifle a laugh. Mom has always thought CiCi was a bit much. Mom was forced to spend time with CiCi while Kenley and I were growing up, but now that Mom and Dad moved to a different suburb and we’re adults, she doesn’t have to anymore.

“It will be entertaining, that’s for sure,” I say, smiling. “But I’ll miss you. And your amazing cornbread dressing.”

Sadness filters over my mom’s face, and I stand up and hug her.

“You can make me Thanksgiving dinner when you get back,” I say, reassuring her.

Mom steps back from me. I study her carefully, her porcelain skin and light-blond hair that is so different from my own looks. No, Charlotte Stewart didn’t give birth to me, but she
chose
me.

And I’m blessed beyond measure that she became my mom.

“Someday a man will make you split holidays with me,” Mom says gently, stroking a hand through my hair. “And while I’ll be happy for you, I can’t help but know I’ll miss you terribly.”

An image of Niko flashes through my mind, and I pray with all my heart that will be true. That I’ll spend my next holiday with him, working around the Demons schedule, fitting in both our families when we can.

I wrinkle my nose. If his family will even allow me into their house, that is, because I’m not Greek.

Then I’m horrified by my own thoughts. Shit, shit, shit, how can I have these irrational thoughts? We haven’t been on a date. He hasn’t come
close
to kissing me.

And here I am worried about what his
parents
could think of me?

I need a therapist.

Or a stiff drink.

Or both.

My phone rings, interrupting my thoughts.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving over to pick it up. “Oh, Mom, it’s CiCi. I had called her and asked what I could bring for dinner next week. Let me take this really quick.”

“I advise wine,” Mom quips. “One for her as a hostess gift, another for you to help you get through the evening and her dramatic monologues.”

“Mom, CiCi is fun,” I say, smiling. “And she’s not
my
mom, so I can handle it.” Then I press the answer key on my phone. “Hello?” I say, moving out of the bedroom and down the hall for some privacy.

“Lexi, it’s CiCi,” she says excitedly. “I’m so happy you are joining us for Thanksgiving. Now it’s truly a
family
holiday.”

I can’t help but smile. Despite what my mom thinks about CiCi, I love her like a second mother. And she’s more of a mother to me than my biological mother has ever wanted to be, so I embrace it with all my heart.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I say honestly, strolling down the hallway and gazing out the windows that overlook the grounds and swimming pool below.

“I’m going to have a full house,” CiCi says, excitement filling her voice. “Ryan and Amanda and the girls will be joining us, and Nate is coming with Kenley, and you. I’m ecstatic!”

“Thank you so much for inviting me to join you,” I say. “With my new work schedule, going to Aspen was out of the equation. And speaking of Thanksgiving, what can I bring, CiCi?”

“Oh, that’s easy. The Greek One.”

I freeze. “What?”

“Darling, you
must
invite The Greek One. He’s not going home for the holidays. Amanda said so. I had Ryan do some fishing on my part since the man says
nothing
on social media. But he can’t spend Thanksgiving alone. So he absolutely must be your date.”

Panic fills me. Of course I want to invite Niko. I want that more than anything. But is it too much? Will it freak him out? It’s a holiday, and people put meaning on those invitations. But do I want him to know my meaning? Do I—

“And if you don’t invite him, I’ll have Ryan do it, but this is an opportunity I’m giving you to make a move. So are you going to be a woman who takes matters into her own hands? Will you be inviting The Greek One to Thanksgiving dinner?”

I try to focus on editing the Demons open for tomorrow’s game but I can’t. I’m going to lunch with Niko in ten minutes, and I’m going to invite him to Thanksgiving dinner.

Which makes me want to throw up.

I add some shadows to Harrison Flynn’s image, hoping to distract myself from the nerves attacking my stomach.

“Hey, Lexi, how’s it going?”

I swivel in my seat and see John Wyatt, the studio director, smiling at me.

“Hi John, it’s going well. I’m finishing up this open for the Demons game tomorrow against Miami.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you have a second?”

I furrow my brow. Crap, does he not like my opens?

“Of course.”

John grabs a chair and wheels it next to me. He sits down, takes a moment, and clears his throat.

“I’m going to take you off the Demons opens for the time being.”

My heart stops. I feel the blood rush to my head.

“It’s nothing you’ve done wrong,” John says quickly, as he must see the upset expression I know is on my face. “It’s that we want to give Chip a shot at them. He’s staff, you know, and expressed an interest in it, so we’re going to flip your assignments. You’re going to work on opens for high school sports, and he’ll do Demons.”

I nod, but inside I’m reeling. John just took away something I love doing, and I can’t stop it from happening. All I can do is be a team player and agree to it, even though I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut.

“That’s fine, I’m happy to do whatever you need me to do,” I say, forcing a smile.

And as my dad has told me a million times, the workplace isn’t always fair. Shitty things happen due to position or politics, and right now I know exactly what Dad was talking about.

“Great. You can finish your current open, and I’ll give you your new assignments after lunch.”

He gets up to leave, and as soon as he does, my face falls. I stare at Harrison’s image on the screen, and I swallow down the lump in my throat. I
know
I can do this better than Chip. It’s not ego talking because if he was good, he’d be doing them already. My instinct tells me he didn’t want to do high school, and when he saw me come in and get a pro hockey team, he complained.

I take a deep breath. I’m going to show my professionalism here. I put my head down and finish putting the final touches on the open, trying not to fixate that it’s the last one I’ll get to do.

I finish with a few minutes before I’m supposed to meet Niko for lunch. I tug off my fingerless gloves and head out of the edit bay. I move down the hall, to the offices, and see that Niko is at his desk. I stop at my cubicle, put my gloves on my desk, and pick up my purse. Then I head over to Niko’s office and rap on his doorframe.

Niko turns in his chair. His face lights up as soon as he sees me.

“Are you ready? I hope so, because I’m starving.”

Starving is the last thing I am after that conversation with Wyatt, and now I need to tell Niko that I’m no longer doing his open.

“I finished your open,” I say, nervously tugging on the scarf I’m wearing over my sweater.

“I’m sure it’s perfect. Which Flynn goal did you go with?”

“I got that sick wrist shot goal from the other night.”

Niko’s smile broadens, revealing the dimple in his cheek. “You instinctively feature what I would have done if I was building it.”

I nod, thinking of how unfair it is that I know hockey, better than any other editor, and it’s being taken away from me. I clear my throat, knowing I need to be professional about this.

“Just so you know,” I say slowly, “that’s the last open I’ll be doing for the Demons.”

Niko’s face instantly shifts to one of concern.

“What? Why?” he asks, standing up.

I swallow hard. I glance over my shoulder and seeing that nobody is lingering outside his door, I speak.

“Wyatt pulled me off Demons opens.”

Niko furrows his brow.

“Come again?”

“Chip has the assignment now. I’m on high school events.”

Niko stares at me, confusion etched on his face.

“Why?”

“Chip wanted the opportunity, so Wyatt gave it to him.”

“Hold on.”

Niko gets up, strides past me, and shuts his door. He turns to me, and I see nothing but fury is his blue eyes.

“Fucking unbelievable,” Niko says angrily. “
Είναι ένας
ηλίθιος!
”

“What?”

“Wyatt’s an idiot,” Niko spits in translation. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“No!” I cry, panic filling me. “Please don’t!”

“No. This impacts my show, and I don’t want Chip doing my opens. He’s done them before, and he sucks. I’m not giving you up. You showed you’re the best one for hockey, and you deserve this chance. I’ll go to Tony Esposito before I let that dumbass do my opens.”

“You can’t,” I say firmly. “This is my battle to fight.”

“Not when it impacts my show.”

“Niko, I know I can’t stop you if you are hellbent on going to Tony, but I’m begging you not to do this. I need to let Chip do some shit opens, and then I can go to Wyatt and ask for him to reconsider. But this can’t be based on you complaining, or it will look like you’re doing this because you’re my friend and not because my work is better.”

“Lexi, that’s crap and you know it.”

“But this is how the workplace is, and I have to play the game if I want a job here.”

“Do you want a job doing high school opens or hockey?”

“I still have the
Demons Magazine
,” I say firmly.

Probably because no sane editor wants to deal with Kimberlee,
I muse.

Niko stares at me, and I can tell he’s not buying it.

“I’ll get the opens back,” I say. “But I have to do this on my terms.”

“I don’t like your terms.”

I can’t help but smile at how much he wants to fight for me.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“Oh, I do, but I’ll defer to you.
For now
.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?”

I laugh. “So are you.”

“So are we going to dig in on different ideas of what to eat for lunch today?” Niko asks, flashing me a smile. “I have my car so I can drive today. Unless you want to argue about that, too.”