Page 207 of Vegas Heat

We’re supposed to act like everything’s fine while we’re here on this live broadcast.

But it’s not fine.

My best friend was clearly in the middle of some cardiac episode, his daughter is worried sick about him, and I’m sitting up on this stage as his stand-in since that’s what he told me to do.

The hosts ask us each a few questions, and I don’t even know what the fuck I’m saying as I hide the fear behind the charming smile people have come to expect from me.

We cut to commercial, and I blow out a breath as I slide my phone out of my pocket and send Gabby a covert text.

Me:My heart is with you. Keep me updated.

I slip my phone back into my pocket, and when I glance up, I see the man sitting beside me—the team’s general manager—as his eyes meet mine.

He absolutely just saw what I typed.

The contact in my phone isSunshine, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Mike raises both brows. “Joanie?”

Oh fuck.

I weigh my options here.

Is it worse to admit the truth or to let him believe the lie? It’s a tossup between fucking my best friend’s daughter or fucking his fiancée.

The broadcast returns, so I don’t get the chance to make that choice.

We talk for another few minutes, and I feel my phone buzz in my pocket with a potential reply from Gabby. I can’t take it out to check since we’re on live television.

As soon as they run the pre-recorded package on a few of the potential first picks, Mike turns to me again with raised brows.

“Gabby,” I admit softly.

“Fuck.”

I slide my phone out of my pocket and read the text from her.

Sunshine:Just arrived and he’s getting checked in. The paramedics said likely two blocked arteries. They were talking emergency double bypass. I’m scared.

I flash the phone to Mike for him to read it, and he presses his lips together. He glances around us, and Chris and Joe are deep in conversation beside me while Pete is chatting with Doug and Carl.

“Thanks,” he says.

I reply as fast as I can while the broadcast cuts to another commercial.

Me:It’s a very common surgery. He’s in good hands now.

Mike looks at me again as I slide my phone back into my pocket. “Is it serious or are you just playing around?” His voice is low and just for me even though we’re surrounded by people.

I blow out a breath. “Serious.”

“You know you can’t tell him. Especially not now.”

“I know not now. But not ever?”

He raises both brows. “I’d keep it to myself until you’re about to walk down the aisle. If it’s not as serious as that, he doesn’t ever need to know.”

I get the feeling he’s not wrong about that.

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