She steps in front of me to block my path to the entrance of her building. “Why?”
That same panicked expression that was stuck on her face for most of last night lands there again. If I’m going to get my hands on Azelius Spas and Emmel’s, I need her on board, so I put her fears to rest yet again. “As I said last night, Evangeline, your job is safe. I want to talk about Charlotte and Randall.”
Her shoulders reveal her relief when they fall slightly. “What about Lottie and Randall?”
Before I can answer, she’s tugging on the front of my T-shirt. “Move this way a bit, sir.”
I step in the direction she’s indicating to let two women pushing strollers pass by.
It’s not lost on me that she doesn’t let go of the shirt.
“You’re dressed differently,” she whispers, taking in the design printed on the front of the shirt and the faded jeans I tugged on after my shower. “You like hockey?”
I do like hockey, and the shirt’s not bad either. It’s one of the few casual items of clothing I own. An old friend from high school played on the New York Falcons for a few seasons before a career-ending injury sent him to a position in their corporate office.
The NHL team has proven they’re a force to be reckoned with. The T-shirt was a bonus gift when I purchased season tickets a few years ago. I don’t wear it often, but I didn’t see the effort in putting on a suit today since I had only one task on my to-do list, and that’s talking to Miss Starling.
“I have season tickets,” I blurt out.
A smile curves her mouth. “Shut up.”
Before I can respond, her eyes have widened and her hand has jumped to cover her lips. “Oh my God, sir. I’m so sorry.”
I’m not.
This exchange is not what I expected when I set out to find her, but I’m loving every second of it.
“I don’t strike you as the type of man who buys season tickets?” I ask, suppressing a chuckle. “Or do you view me as someone who doesn’t like sports in general?”
She eyes me from head to toe. “Do you jump up and down when they score?”
“Only if no one is watching me,” I say with a straight face.
She lets out a soft laugh. “Do you have a favorite player?”
“Do you?”
She nods. “I adore them all, but there’s one in particular that I absolutely love.”
Jealousy sparks inside of me for somegoddamn reason. Why the hell should I care if she’s got a crush on a professional hockey player?
“It’s Ryden Duran,” she blurts out the name I expected she would. “He’s the best of the best, isn’t he?”
He’s a great looking guy with the skills to match. He has set the hockey world on fire. I admit, he ranks at the top of my list of favorites on the hometown team.
I glance at her groceries and spot my excuse to end this conversation. “There’s ice cream in here. We should get to your apartment so you can put it away before it melts.”
As if to punctuate my point, the clouds above part allowing a slice of mid-day sun to peek through. Evangeline glances up at it. “You’re right. I should put it away.”
She briefly looks at the bags in my hands, shrugs both shoulders and offers me a tepid invitation into her home. “I guess you can carry them up for me.”
I’ll take it, so I follow her into her building, and a part of her life I’ve never been in before.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Evie
I unlockthe door to my apartment as I silently congratulate myself for taking the time to clean my small space this morning.