Page 29 of Hockey Wife

“And telling them I got post-nuptial jitters? That’s genius. Covers us in case they get wind of the first annulment.”

His thoughts, exactly. This girl was sharp. He remembered that from Vegas.

“Do you think they bought it?”

“My mom was very taken with you, which is incredible because she’s not easy to impress. I’m amazed at how quickly you came up with that story. You’re a natural liar.”

“I’m a natural storyteller. There’s a difference.”

“Well, I owe you. Big time.”

I accept Visa, Mastercard, and hot, wet kisses. He looked her over. Her long, platinum blonde hair fell down her back like a wave of sun over another strapless pink dress, similar to what she wore that night. Her wedding dress. Those round, creamy shoulders were right there, awaiting his lips …

She waved at him. “What? Do I have a stray booger?”

“Come again?”

She rubbed her nose. “You’re staring at me like I have spinach in my teeth.”

“No, you’re perfect.”

She blinked, like she’d never heard that. People—men—must tell her that all the time.

He evicted thoughts of compliments from previous boyfriends, none of whom were her husband, he might add. “What’s this gala for?”

“One of my parents’ many causes. This one is for the Humane Society. Fifty thousand dollars a plate.”

He gave a low whistle. “How much will they raise?”

“Five million. Maybe more.”

“That’s a lot of cheddar.”

“It is. They’re very conscious of giving back, putting good into the world.”

“They have a lot of money, and you can’t take it with you.”

She shook her head. “I’m not criticizing. Of course they’re doing great work.”

“But you think there’s something performative about it.”

She shrugged. “Maybe? They’re very aware of how they look. But people are getting helped, so I shouldn’t be so nitpicky about it.”

She’d brought it up so there must be something to it that bothered her. Maybe she thought their money was hers by right. Maybe her parents expected her to do serious things with her life and didn’t approve of how she lived it. Professional party girl wasn’t exactly the noblest of professions.

“So, they cut you off?”

“What makes you say that?”

A guess, but he suspected a good one. “You’re living next door to O’Malley.”

“A wealthy hockey player.”

His turn to shrug. “Castle Apartments is fine but isn’t exactly a palace. That’s temp housing for the new guys on the team. Decent, but not your style.”

She finally gave up the act. “My parents haven’t been all that happy with some of my choices of late. They cut off my allowance, are threatening to withhold dispensation of my trust, and are trying to blackmail me into doing what they want.”

“Which is?”

---