Page 9 of Sin Bin

She hadn’t seen Logan Brassard in fifteen years. He probably didn’t even remember her. And why would he? They’d spent five months at the same group home, but they weren’t exactly BFFs. She remembered him as a surly hellraiser who was always getting into fights, earning him the nickname “Bruiser.” His volatile temper had both repelled and intrigued her. She never knew whether to fear him or befriend him.

She was absolutely devastated when he broke her telescope during one of his brawls. It was the last gift she’d received from her parents before they died. She’d cherished it like nothing else, clung to it like a security blanket. When Logan destroyed it, she thought she would hate him for all eternity.

But then he would do something unexpectedly nice. Like defend her against a bully, or compliment her school drawings, or save her the last slice of pizza on family dinner night. His random acts of kindness had thrown her off kilter. She never knew what to make of him, so her feelings toward him were always conflicted.

But that was all ancient history now. Logan was a big hockey star, a multimillionaire and a notorious manwhore, if gossip blogs were to be believed.

Not that it mattered one iota to her. He was part of her past—a troubled past she’d worked very hard to put behind her. She had no interest in reuniting with him. Fortunately there were over 700,000 people living in Denver—she’d checked—so the odds of running into him were pretty slim.

Assuming she got the job.

As her aunt pulled onto I-25, Meadow’s phone rang. She dug it out of her handbag and looked at the screen. When she saw Gamenetic’s number, her heart gave an excited little jump. “It’s them.”

“Who?”

“Gamenetic.” Meadow anxiously chewed her bottom lip. “Why do you think they’re calling?”

“Only one way to find out.” Rosalie looked pointedly at the buzzing phone. “Don’t just stare at it—answer it!”

Meadow pressed the talk button and tried to sound as calm as possible. “Hello?”

“Hi, Meadow. This is Phoebe, the receptionist at Gamenetic.”

“Um, hi.”

“Dirk told me to call you,” Phoebe explained. “Something came up and your interview has to be pushed up to today.”

“Today?” Meadow croaked. “But I just got in.”

“That’s okay. It wouldn’t be until tonight. The management team has a suite at the Pepsi Center, and Dirk would like you to join them at the Denver Rebels game.”

Meadow was stunned. “Really?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Phoebe paused. “He says you aren’t leaving town until Sunday. Is that correct?”

“Uh, yeah,” Meadow confirmed. “I’m spending the weekend with my aunt.”

“Awesome. So are you free tonight?”

Meadow’s mind was racing, her thoughts tumbling like clothes in a dryer. Attending the game meant she would see Logan. Not up close, obviously. But close enough.

The thought set off a wild flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

“Meadow?” the receptionist prompted.

“Uh, y-yes,” she stammered. “I’m free tonight.”

“Perfect! The game starts at six. A car will pick you up at five and take you to the arena, then drop you off afterward. Where does your aunt live?”

Meadow supplied the address, thanked Phoebe and ended the call.

“Well?” Her aunt stared expectantly at her. “What did they say?”

Meadow shook her head slowly. “They invited me to a hockey game.”

“They did? That’s great, Meadow!”

She swallowed. “Something came up and my interview had to be rescheduled for tonight.”