Page 64 of Play to Win

Everyone toasts, then begins eating.For a while, things seem to be going well, with polite conversation about hockey, what the hockey players in the group will be doing over the summer, and compliments to the food.Several bottles of wine disappear as we eat, although Théo is nursing one glass of Merlot.I’m on my third.God.

Then Bob speaks up from the end of the table.“Seriously, JP, what are you thinking?You can’t date your brother’s girlfriend.”

Awkward silence descends.I want to laugh.Emma sucks on her bottom lip.

“It’s against the rules,” Bob adds.

“So is stealing money from your sons.”Mark Wynn stabs a piece of chicken on his plate.

The atmosphere thickens even more.

“Well, at least I don’t steal girlfriends.Or cheat on my wife.”

JP sucks in an audible breath.So does Mark.“Is that right?”Mark says tightly, glaring at his father.

“What are you saying?”Bob scowls back at him.

“I’m saying you remarried pretty damn fast after Mom died.”He gives Chelsea a narrow-eyed look, and she flinches.

I reach for Théo’s hand beneath the table and squeeze it.His fingers grip mine tightly.

Everly speaks up.“Well, I for one don’t care who JP goes out with, but it is kind of inappropriate to bring her to Théo’s welcome dinner.”

“Don’t be a bitch, Ev,” mutters Riley.

“Don’t call her a bitch,” snaps Harrison.

Everly shakes her head at Harrison.She appears quite able to handle herself.

“Inappropriate?”Bob barks.“I’ll tell you what’s inappropriate.Inappropriate is two sons suing their father.”

My eyes fly open wide.I glance between Matt and Mark.Their faces contract into lines of annoyance.

Théo stiffens next to me and picks up his wine.“Let’s not talk about that here,” he bites out.

“Good idea!”Aline looks around.“Does anyone want seconds?Please help yourselves.”

“It’s all delicious, Aline,” Chelsea says.

“Thank you.”

“What the hell are these?”Bob holds up a Caprese skewer.

Chelsea sets a hand on his arm.“Tomatoes and mozzarella cheese,” she murmurs.“You like it.”

“How’s your mom, Riley?”Aline asks.

Riley glances at her dad.“She’s great.She’s been doing some work with the football team in Toronto.She has quite a few high-profile clients now.A couple of Olympic skating champions, a champion diver, and a few NHL guys.”

Seeing my curious look, she adds, “My mom’s a sports psychologist.”

“You screwed that woman over,” Bob says to Mark.

More uneasy glances are exchanged around the big table.Mark’s jaw hardens.

Aline nibbles her bottom lip and closes her eyes briefly.I sense her distress.

“I’d like to make another toast,” Bob says.

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