Page 53 of On the Power Play

He could sit there like nothing was amiss. Like it was normal for a girl to choose to stay here rather than make other plans. Jealous. Delia nodded. "Yep."

"Everything okay?"

Delia smiled tightly and took off her coat. “Mmhmm.”

"I'm glad you're staying," Jack said, and Delia looked up. "One Night Only has a better deal on full pizzas and I wanted two flavours, but I definitely can't eat two pizzas by myself."

Delia’s heart dropped as she walked back to the couch. "Have you ever tried to eat two?"

"Once. Didn't end well."

Delia sat down in her spot and picked up her glass of water. "Pictures or it didn't happen."

_____

At just after midnight, Delia yawned, waved to Mary on the curb, then walked in her front door. There weren't people parked outside her gated neighbourhood, probably because of the hour. Also possibly because the paparazzi were all at the hotel when she and Mary left Jack's room. They hadn't intended to watch a second Bond movie and then play beer pong after eating enough of those two pizzas that Delia was already gassy, but it was what the night had demanded.

Jack was cool. Just like the first night they met, it seemed impossible to have a filter with him. She couldn’t help but blurt out what she was thinking, and somehow he didn't think it was weird or off-putting. Or if he did, he was excellent at not letting it show on his face. We’ve just had a lot of practise pretending nothing ruffles us.

Earlier, Delia admitted she didn't love watching hockey, but she hadn't thought twice about it since Jack had already admitted he didn't listen to song lyrics and wasn’t a fan of her music. Maybe he still wasn’t? Maybe he wasn’t a fan of her?

Maybe he was just pretending. Getting a kick out of her. Texting his teammates about the ridiculous things she said.

A rock settled in her stomach as she hung her coat and took off her shoes. No. It didn’t track. She'd seen his face during the recording session that afternoon. She'd tried not to look at him so she wouldn’t get distracted, but she couldn't help it. Even through the tinted glass, she saw him sitting off to the side watching her. His brow had been furrowed, not in anger, but in concentration. Like he needed to make sense of it. Make sense of her.

He liked her singing. She knew it like she knew what word should come next in a poem. And he’d been the one to invite her to the hotel. Maybe it was so he could mock her in private, but she was going to try and erase that possibility so she could sleep at night.

Delia shivered as she walked into the kitchen and set her bag on the chair, then filled the tea kettle with water. The idea of eating anything after all that pizza made her want to die, but some lemon tea sounded like just the thing before bed.

She thought about asking her mom if she wanted anything, then realized she would've left over an hour ago for her night shift. Not much longer.

Every time she thought about how her mother had kept food on their table and a roof over their heads for twenty-five years, solo, her commitment redoubled. Her mother had made whatever sacrifices she needed to to get Delia lessons or opportunities in summer music camps. Now it was she who needed help, and Delia would give whatever it took to get her healthy.

Singing and performing didn't feel anywhere close to the same level of sacrifice her mother had made, but recording IndieLake’s music did require her to give something of herself. Would she have signed with them had she not needed that advance? Could she have taken her time and worked her way up with her own songs? Maybe. But maybe not. It really didn't matter at that point.

The teapot started to whistle, and just as Delia was about to take it off the heat, her phone buzzed on the table. Her heart leaped, and she only realized she was hoping it was Jack when she saw Tony's name at the top of her screen.

"You know it's after midnight, right?"

Tony exhaled. "I was planning to leave you a message. I didn't expect you to pick up, I was just too lazy to type everything out."

Delia pinned the phone between her shoulder and ear and walked back to the stove to make her tea. "What's going on?"

"Well, first of all, you and Jack are absolutely killing it with your public appearances. Kels sent me a picture of him wrapping you in his arms and walking you into the recording studio. Insert awwws heard around the world."

Delia grinned, then tried to sound nonchalant as she said, "That's already up?"

"Definitely. Oh, and I also found a TikTok from someone working at the Radisson. They saw you two walk in together and head to the elevators."

Delia poured the hot water into a mug. "Right, that was an extra bonus we thought we'd throw in." It had been all strategy.

"I heard about the media frenzy at the recording studio and at the hotel when you left, but Delia, you were there till midnight?"

Delia sensed the judgment in his tone. "Mary was there, too. We were hanging out and eating pizza."

"But you didn't have to spend more time with him, you know that, right? Your contract only stipulates?—"

"I know, Tony. I was being nice. He was all alone for the night." Delia ripped open the tea bag and plopped it in the mug, then threw out the paper wrapping. "Is this why you phoned? To make sure I understood the contract?"

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