Page 101 of Win Big

Wyatt strides over and we sit and order drinks while we wait for Baz and his agent. Lights glow in the big fig trees around us on the wooden deck, more lights shining on the tables, palm trees silhouetted against the midnight blue sky. I lean toward the flames leaping up, gold and orange and blue.

There’s actually live music on a small raised stage, a quartet playing smoky, bluesy jazz.

“Oh my God, I love this place.” I relax into my chair.

The waiter brings our glasses of Pinot Noir. I sip and it’s delicious.

“This is so perfect.” I let out a sigh and relax.

“It’d be more perfect if we’d won.” But Wyatt leans over and touches his wineglass to mine.

“I know.” We sip our drinks.

“Oh hey, there’s Baz.” Wyatt stands and waves.

A dark-haired man waves back and heads our way, smiling. I saw him earlier, at the interview, although we didn’t speak. I stand too, smiling, so Wyatt can introduce us.

Then my gaze lands on the man behind Baz. A tall, muscular man, dressed in an expensive suit. He’s smiling too... until he sees me.

My heart stops beating.

Our eyes meet.

I haven’t seen or heard from Gage in nearly eleven years.

“Baz, this is Everly Wynn.” Wyatt touches my lower back. “Everly, Baz Chadha.”

“Nice to meet you,” I murmur politely, a practiced smile in place. “I saw you earlier during the interview but didn’t get a chance to say hi. Thanks for doing that for the Hockey for All program.”

“Of course. Happy to. And good to meet you also.” He half turns to the man now standing next to him. “This is my agent, Gage Gregoire. Gage, have you met Wyatt Bell?”

“Haven’t had the pleasure.” Gage extends a hand to Wyatt and they shake.

“And his girlfriend, Everly Wynn.”

We face each other. Heat suffuses my body, my heart now galloping. I don’t know what to say.

“Wehavemet,” Gage says. “A long time ago when I played for the Condors.”

“Small world,” Wyatt quips and we all move to take seats.

I’m trying to breathe. I pick up my wine and take a quick sip. I have a strong urge to get up and run.

“Gage and I wanted a chance to meet up while we’re both in L.A.,” Baz says. He looks up as our waiter pauses beside his chair, then requests a sparkling water with lime. Gage orders a Manhattan. “So thanks for letting him tag along.”

Gage snorts, grinning.

“No worries,” Wyatt says easily. He doesn’t seem to have noticed that I’m dying of awkward. Hopefully I can keep it that way.

I let them talk, keeping a smile and an interested look on my face, trying to gather my thoughts and act appropriately.

The man sitting across from me is a reminder of the worst mistake I ever made. Not only do I hate making mistakes, and I relive them for way too long all by myself, I hate being reminded of them.

I glance at him and our eyes meet.

I look away immediately.

I drain my wineglass and look around for our waiter. Wyatt notices and gets his attention. He’s such a sweetheart.

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