Page 3 of Mr. Charming

Calvin scrambles to get up, almost falling off his chair. “I’ll see you in your office,” he says, rushing after Mr. Herington.

“So, you’re going to Chicago?” Mindy asks.

I stand from the table. “It appears so.” I attempt to keep the dread from my voice.

Lyric gathers all the folders, but they slip from her hands, and Tweetie’s picture slides across the table to me. She gives me an apologetic look, knowing our history.

His chin-length blond hair, his devilish blue eyes, and defined jawline. God, I hate the man, but just looking at him still makes my core ache.

Two

Tweetie

I’m in the back of an Uber on my way to our morning skate, scrolling through my phone to pass the time, when Aiden’s name flashes on the screen.

I slide my thumb over and bring the phone to my ear. “How’s the fam?”

I played with Aiden back in Florida. We’re roughly the same age, both refusing to hang up our skates. Thankfully, we’re still performing, but there’s no doubt our time is coming.

“Good,” he whispers.

“Why are you whispering?” I whisper back.

“I’m in the closet, packing my shit for an away game. Saige is on the phone in the bedroom.”

“Man, you’re taking whipped to a whole new level. You practically live in a mansion, and you can’t find a room to talk in where you’re not interrupting her?”

He scoffs, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Hey, I’m putting myself on the line right now.” He pauses. “Yeah, I’m almost done packing,” he calls out to who I assume is Saige.

I shake my head. “What’s going on with you?” A quick glance out the window tells me we’re getting closer to the rink.

“Saige is on the phone with Tedi.”

A knot forms in my throat. The moment has come, the one I’ve been dreading for years. Tedi’s engaged or maybe already married. Maybe even pregnant. Aiden’s whispering makes more sense to me now. Ever since Tedi and I were finished, we don’t discuss her when Saige is around. Tedi is Saige’s best friend, her ride or die, and to her, I’m the asshole who broke Tedi’s heart.

“Yeah?” I try to keep the dread and despair, the anger of envisioning her with someone else, out of my fucking tone.

“It’s not good,” he says softly, and I hear the sound of a zipper.

“Who is he?” I try to make it a little easier for Aiden because he’s a great friend to warn me before the news travels and people start looking at me with fucking pity.

“No, that’s not it.”

I straighten in the back of my rideshare, gripping my phone tighter. If it’s not about another guy, then why is Aiden in a closet, whispering, hiding whatever he’s about to tell me about Tedi so his wife doesn’t overhear?

My mind flashes to a million different scenarios. Is she hurt? Is she in the hospital? Is she sick? Fuck, last I knew, she worked for the national league out of New York. Did some asshole?—

“Did she get hit by a bus?” I ask.

My rideshare driver looks over his shoulder at me in a panic.

“That’s where your mind goes?” A door closes behind him.

“What do you expect? You’re being all vague and shit.” My anxiety is at an all-time high, and pretty soon I’m going to have to ask the rideshare driver to detour to the hospital if Aiden doesn’t fucking spill.

“I think you should address this issue. I can hear the panic in your voice.” Aiden is talking normally again. Why didn’t he shut the door to begin with?

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