Page 141 of Play the Game

Fifty-Seven

SCOTTIE

I leftmy phone on the counter and purposefully kept my back to the living room camera so Emory wouldn’t see the utter devastation on my face when he finds out I’m gone and looks at the footage.

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

It’s the only thing I can think as I sit in my parked car and stare at the homeless camp I know my mother frequents.

I find it truly pathetic that the first place I go when I’m in a pit of despair is here, but sometimes I like to pretend that the woman who birthed me and told me fairy tales before bed while my dad leaned against the door is still in there somewhere.

My heart aches with every beat.

I wipe my face again as another tear escapes. Shutter looks up from my lap when the droplet lands on his sleek fur, but he goes back to resting a moment later.

Glancing at the clock, I know Emory is home from practice by now.

I’m positive he’s heard. He’s likely read all the articles and is trying to fix things or, knowing him, trying to figure out who found out about us…about me…and revealed it to the press.

A jealous woman?

Maybe another hockey player with a vengeance for the Blue Devils and their recent success?

It doesn’t really matter.

There’s too much evidence and too many conspiracy theories roaming the internet like a plague to deny it all.

I put my car in drive after placing Shutter on the blanket in the front seat. I have one thought in my head, and it’s how I’m going to beat Emory to the punch.

The media may think we’re a fluke, and we did begin that way, but things have changed.

What hasn’t changed is that I signed up to do a job, and I amnota quitter.

Emory Olson married me so I would fix his image, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

As soon as I pull up to the Cat House, Shutter meows.

“Don’t worry.” I smile softly at him. “I’m not leaving you here.”

He climbs out of the car after me and stays right beside the tire as I head for the door. Only a few cars are in the parking lot, and I’ve gotta make this quick because Emory’s determination runs deep, and he’ll come looking for me.

I open the door and head for the back, hoping to avoid my ex-boss.

When I step into the dressing room, Chastity is applying her eyelashes. With one half attached, she turns and envelops me in a warm hug.

“I knew you’d show up here,” she whispers, pulling us apart to look me up and down. “You okay?”

“You’ve heard? But you don’t even watch hockey.”

My face heats. God, does the whole world know?

She shrugs, and I can’t stop staring at her eyelash hanging on by a thread. I take the glue from her and tip her chin to fix it.

“It has to do with the Cat House. Russ was making a whole production over it.”

“Great,” I mumble. “Is he pissed? I should go before he sees me.”

I hand the glue back to Chastity, and she laughs. “Are you kidding? He’s elated. He said, and I quote, ‘Someone get Cherry back here! She needs a raise.’”

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