Page 110 of Playoff

I look up to where I think the cameras are.

“I love you,” I say slowly and succinctly. “And I’ll be back.”

Then I turn and jog back to my car. I don’t need someone to see me and think I’m a stalker or something.

Damn.

I need to find a hotel for the night and then try again in the morning.

I’m not leaving until we talk.

I open a web browser on my phone to look for a nearby hotel that isn’t overly expensive. As I’m searching, a message pops up on my phone.

It’s the internal messaging the Phantoms use to communicate.

This one is from Autumn Nicholls, which means it’s official business.

“Ms. Barrowman would like to see you in her office tomorrow morning at 9:30 a.m. I can book a flight for you if you’ve already left town.”

That’s interesting.

They’re willing to fly me back to L.A. for a meeting?

I quickly type out a response.

“I’m in town for one more day. I can meet with her before I head home.”

“Great. Do you need a hotel room or anything? I’m happy to set that up.”

Huh. This is getting more interesting.

But it’s also convenient.

“That would be great. Thank you.”

“Hang tight—I’ll email you the details and a confirmation as soon as it’s done.”

Not like I have anywhere to go.

I’m curious about what she wants, since contracts and such would go through Drake Riser, the GM, and not Harper personally.

It occurs to me someone may have found out about Rowan and me, and Rowan’s in some kind of trouble, but I’ll throw myself under the bus for her if I have to. Hell, I’ll retire right fucking now if that’s what it takes.

But it doesn’t make sense that they’re offering to pay for a hotel room for me if they’re just going to reprimand me or something.

I feel a spark of excitement—there might be a contract forthcoming—until I remember that Rowan and I can’t be together if we both work for the organization.

Damn.

This hurts almost as much as losing Rowan.

Almost.

But I’m not making the same mistake again.

I’m putting her first this time, no matter what.

THIRTY-FIVE

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