Page 20 of Tempest

More than anything, I remember the smile she wore purely for my benefit because it was a complete fucking lie.

“That’s not something she shares with just anyone these days. Her real smile,” he muses. “Count yourself lucky.”

“Oh, I do.” Our short time was special, and I cherish it, even if I hate that it had to end. Watching her now, how she moves through the crowd with a self-assuredness I’ve only ever seen in other athletes, I wonder if there’s a possibility of a second chance for us.

Is it too late to see if that connection is still alive? Or is it long buried? I don’t think it is because I still feel something when I look at her; a remnant of what pulled me to her in the first place. A desire to be close, to know all her secrets, and to be the one she trusts them to.

“You have a daughter,” George says. “Is there a wife?”

“An ex-wife,” I say, not taking my eyes off her.

“Oh, you poor, poor man,” George says before rising. His laughter fades as he walks away.

What the fuck just happened?

No matter how hard I try, I can’t pull my eyes off Odette. She’s speaking with Tori, who is animatedly telling a story, her hands waving. My daughter is comfortable with her, only after a couple of weeks of school. Tori’s grown up around minor celebrities, maybe that helps her be at ease with someone she idolizes the way she does Odette. Hockey isn’t on the same level as fashion, or even other sports. We can live our lives mostly going unrecognized and unnoticed. We don’t make Page Six headlines. Odette has. I know because I can never go long without my curiosity getting the best of me and typing her name into my search engine.

One time, Caroline saw me reading about her. She didn’t say anything, just placed a hand on my shoulder and a kiss to the top of my head. We never discussed it, but I’m sure she knew that a part of me was never present in the room with me. I left it with Odette at the young fucking age of eighteen.

Whether she knows she has it or not. Whether she’s kept it safe or not. The gorgeous woman talking to the most important person in my life has held whatever part of me causes the tightness in my stomach. My other half, my soulmate…I don’t know what to call it, but I’ve only ever felt it with her.

Or maybe that is just my guilt speaking.

A man walks up to Odette, stealing her attention away from Tori, who glances around until she sees me. I smile and throw her a small wave. A few minutes later, she’s climbing the stairs to the patio with a boy in tow.

“Dad, this is Drake,” she introduces him as they take seats of their own.

“Hey, Drake. Nice to meet you.”

“You too, Mr. Vaughn.”

“Call me Gavin. Mr. Vaughn makes me feel old,” I say. “Do you go to school with Tori?”

“Yeah. I moved here from Kansas, terrified and alone. But Tori’s workstation is right next to mine and she said that meant we were destined to be friends. I haven’t been able to shake her since,” he teases with a wink.

“Sounds like my girl,” I tell him. “She’s a good friend. You’re in good hands.”

“Drake also knows hockey,” Tori says.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, my grandfather played in the NHL for a few years. Joshua Jensen.”

“Seriously? Jensen is in the Hall of Fame,” I say, and Drake nods. “Do you play?”

“Nah, my coordination doesn’t allow.”

“Same,” Tori says. Which is true, athletic abilities were never in her wheelhouse. “Odette says she’s never seen you play.”

“She probably doesn’t have a lot of time for sports,” I say nonchalantly, but it stings some, the knowledge that she surely hasn’t had the same level of obsession for me that I have for her.

“You should get her tickets for a game.”

“I doubt she’d want that,” I start, but Tori interrupts.

“You could try, Dad,” she insists, and I get the feeling she’s trying to matchmake.

I wonder if it’d work…

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