Page 14 of War

THREE

AVA

I loveeverything about my job as head of charity relations for Langfield Corp.

With one enormous exception: Tyler Freaking Warren. The man all of Boston calls War because of his propensity to start fights on the ice.

The guys may be a rowdy bunch, but they’re all invested in making Boston a better place. They were here on time, and they’re lined up on the ice, ready to start their game for the charity skate. All but one, naturally.

War is nowhere to be found. I shouldn’t be surprised.

I rarely deal with the players unless it’s for charity events like this one. But every time the team is set to appear, he saunters in late.

His life, his priorities, and mainly his dick take center stage.

I hate him for being such a conceited asshole, and I hate myself even more for letting him get under my skin in a way no one else ever has.

Since the night he stood me up two years ago, I’ve seen the person Hannah warned me about time and again. Gone was the Tyler that sweet talked me in the gym, the man who’s blue eyes glittered with what I saw as hope and possibility. In his place was War, the egotistical fuckboy that makes me want to pull out my hair. Living next door to him and hearing him come in at all hours of the night, aware that hewas likely out with a different woman every time, has only helped me forget the odd encounter we had when we met. And if we run into each other when we’re out—which, unfortunately, happens often since we share the same group of friends—he’ll smirk right before he disappears, like he wants me to know that he’s about to find another woman interested in his fuckboy ways.

I don’t normally curse—I barely raise my voice—but for War, even if it’s only in my mind, I make an exception.

The man drives me absolutely mad.

“Have you heard from Josie?”

I practically jump out of my skin at the question. It was harmless enough, of course, but I was so in my head that I didn’t see Beckett Langfield approach. The billionaire eyes me like I’m being dramatic as he waits for my answer.

“Not since you asked yesterday.” I pull my phone from my pocket and check my notifications.

Still nothing from Maria.

Brow furrowed, Beckett nods. “Let me know the minute you do.” With that, he buttons his suit jacket and strides away, heading toward the bench where I assume he’ll watch the game with his brother Gavin, the head coach of the Boston Bolts.

“It was nice seeing you, Becks,” Sara calls from beside me.

On her other side, her best friend Lennox snorts. Lennox is married to Beckett’s brother Aiden, and Sara is engaged to Brooks. With Lennox now working with me in the charitable relations office, just about all of my friends work for Langfield Corp.

Beckett doesn’t turn. He doesn’t even slow his stride.

“Rude,” Lennox grumbles.

Beckett Langfield may come across as the grumpiest of the billionaire brothers, but he holds a special place in my heart. Though the world really only sees the scowl and crossed arms, he’s actually one of the most tender-hearted people I know. And he’s been my favorite Langfield since the day he introduced me to Josie, a little girl who stole my heart a year ago.

Beckett is one of a very few people in Boston who know my family history. And because of that knowledge, he came to me with an idea tohave an event at Boston Children’s Hospital and gave me an unlimited budget.

That night, the two of us met Josie, a little girl who had just been diagnosed with lymphoma. Her foster parents had recently abandoned her at the hospital, yet she was joy personified. It took all the strength I had to leave that room that night. The idea of her being alone, having no one, gutted me.

Beckett sat with me until she fell asleep, and then he turned a blind eye while I cried in the back of his town car the whole way home.

The next day, he called me into his office, gave me a credit card, and told me to visit Josie as often as I wanted, on the clock or off it. To bring her treats, clothing, toys, books. Anything she wanted. Anything that would make her stay just a little easier. For months, I spent every free minute I had in Josie’s hospital room.

Sundays were extra special, because my girlfriends would come with me after Sunday brunch. We’d play games, watch movies, order dinner, and stay until she was ready for bed.

In July, Josie was reunited with her birth mother, and although I’m hopeful that this is the best scenario for her, it has gutted me. I haven’t seen her in almost six months, and each time someone asks me about her, like Beckett just did, I have to fight back tears. Because the only connection I have with her is through Maria.

She can’t tell me much because of HIPAA, but apparently she’s been authorized to at least let me know that Josie is happy and healthy, which is all I can truly hope for.

A round of cheers erupts, snagging my attention and pulling me from my depressing thoughts. On the ice, the kids attending the event, all from the YMCA, are pointing and screaming at none other than Tyler Freaking Warren, skating onto the ice.Late.

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