Page 92 of Miami Ice

“I knew you liked him,” Ella says, a triumphant smile on her lips. “You talked about him way too much.”

“I never thought I would like a guy like him. And I don’t think I would have liked the Beckham he was back in Denver. He wasn’t serious about anything, thinking he could get by on his hockey prowess alone. I think the trade shocked him into growing up, both on and off the ice. And I like the man he is now.”

“That’s all that matters,” Ella says. “Date him and see where it goes.”

“That’s what I intend to do. As well as not accept the money for fake dating him, obviously.”

She makes a face. “Oh crap, I didn’t think about that, Georgie.”

I smile at her. “It’s okay. I’d rather have Beckham than the money. Obviously I won’t take it now.”

“But what about Georgie’s Jars?” Ella asks, concern flickering in her eyes.

“I’ll always have Georgie’s Jars, but I’ll just make it a side hustle instead of a full-time job right now. Speaking of that, I’ll have to find a job. At least I have enough money to make it through the holidays.”

“Nobody is hiring now anyway, except for seasonal help. And this is your big month to make money.”

“Hopefully, yes.”

“No, you will, Georgie. You’re so talented.”

I don’t say anything as I continue to pet Winston. If only talent were enough to make a living. Sadly, I know it’s so much more than that. It can be a lot of luck, too, and sometimes you never get that.

“We’ll hope for a holiday shopping miracle,” I say.

Ella eyes me shrewdly. “You don’t seem panicked about it.”

“Ella, I know this is going to sound weird, but I already feel like I won the lottery by meeting Beckham. I know I’ll be stressed until I find a job, but I know I can get something and keep working on my art. Is it ideal? No. But if it’s what I have to do, I’ll do it.”

She lifts her hand and places it across my forehead. “Are you ill? Because you don’t sound like the Georgie who was freaked out two weeks ago about not being able to fund Georgie’s Jars.”

I push her hand away. “I’m still anxious, but I see things with a bit more clarity.”

“Through the Beckham lens,” she teases.

I feel my face turning red.

“Somebody has it bad,” Ella declares.

“I do. I’ve never felt this way before,” I confess.

Winston turns his head and gives me a grin. “You know Mommy has it bad, too, don’t you?” I ask.

He barks.

“Winston knows all,” Ella declares.

“Tonight I’m going to his hotel for dinner again. That’s so I can meet his cat, Minnie.”

“Ooh, that’s a big deal, meeting a man’s cat,” she jokes.

“It is. If she doesn’t like me, it could all be over.” Then I smile at her. “But you know what’s a bigger deal? He wants to come to both of our family Thanksgiving meals next week.”

“Ooh, really?”

“Yes. I’ve told him about Mom and Rick and Dad and Tasha. He’s undeterred.”

“Becks has it bad, too,” Ella says, a triumphant smile on her face.

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