Page 78 of Heart on Ice

Issy opens her phone and shows me the images. They were taken with a telescopic lens, and it’s of Bill and Kitty at dinner together, and his hand is under the table and up her skirt. There is no denying what is going on. She is laughing and having a great time unaware that her life is about to blow up.

“Holy shit.”

“Everyone knows that the man Kitty was cheating on you with was Bill Reeves. They just outed themselves, which meansall those Devils fans who roasted you in the media, and those former teammates who stopped talking to you, they will now understand why you left,” Harper says. This is great, but all I can think about is poor Michelle and her family.

“Thanks for the heads up, Harper.”

“You’re going to have to be ready, this is huge, and now the media knows you are in New York they are going to try to find you,” she warns me.

“I assumed I was living on borrowed time. I better go, my phone is going off,” I tell her as I hang up.

“Are you okay? You seem a little freaked out,” Issy asks me.

“I don’t know how I feel,” I tell her.

“Come on, let’s go downstairs and grab some breakfast. You think better on a full stomach.” She grins. That is true.

Frankston jumps up from where he was sleeping and rushes out of the bedroom. That was strange as we both get up and follow him. Moments later, the buzzer to Issy’s apartment goes off, but Frankston is there angrily growling at the door, his hackles are up.

“Check the security cameras,” I tell Issy, who quickly opens the app, and when we see the media throng congregated outside Issy’s apartment, my stomach sinks. Our little bubble has just blown up. “Close the blinds,” I yell at Issy, who clicks onto another app and hits a button that closes all the blinds in her home, throwing the home into darkness. I put my hands on top of Issy’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry I brought this to your front door.”

“This isn’t your fault,” she reassures me.

“How did they find me?” I ask her.

“Someone noticed and tipped them off.” How is she being so calm? “Look, how about I go get dressed and speak to them. They are trespassing, walking up the stairs. Maybe I can get them to move on.”

“They’re vultures, Issy.”

“You eat, and I’ll talk to them. Maybe we can get Harper to come up with a statement regarding the matter,” Issy reassures me before she walks over, wraps her arms around my neck, and kisses me slowly.

Moments later she is dressed in a killer suit looking like a badass as she walks toward the door. I grab Frankston and hold him by the collar, he isn’t happy about her answering the door. “It’s okay, boy, she’s got this,” I reassure him.

She steps outside and I hear the shutters start and people screaming questions at Issy.

“I can’t answer your questions if you are talking over each other,” she says sternly. “Look, I understand you are here after witnessing some photos online. Now I have no idea if the photos that have been published are real, and I think until they are proven, my client will not be making any statements.”

“Is it true that you and Pierre used to date?” a reporter asks Issy.

She laughs. “We did as teens, but we are nothing but friends now. As you know, the St. Pierre boys are close to my family. My dear father being both boys’ first agent. Pierre and I are friends and when he needed somewhere to stay after what happened at his wedding, I said yes without hesitation. Pierre has asked for this time to heal, and I hope that you will all respect that. This is my home. My sanctuary, and coming and knocking on my door will be considered trespassing after this point. I respect that you have a story to write, and this does appear to be salacious, but Pierre will not be giving any more statements on the matter. You can contact Pierre’s media team which is represented by The Rose Agency if you wish, but please do not come to my home or my office for comments.” Everyone starts shouting, but she closes the door and comes back inside. I let Frankston go, and herushes over to her, she gives him a big cuddle. “You were such a good security doggy this morning.”

“Thanks for doing that. Do you think it will work?”

“Not a chance. I did warn them. I’ll give my security company a call and get some people to man the stoop,” she explains.

I walk over and wrap her in my arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This isn’t your problem,” she says, kissing me.

After the mediaruined our morning, Issy and I went back to bed and had a nice destress session which included many orgasms until my phone started ringing again. This time when I look over, I see it’s Michelle Reeves calling me.

“Shit, it’s Michelle,” I tell Issy.

“Answer it,” she tells me.

“Hey, Michelle,” I say, putting the phone on speaker.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You knew they were fucking each other, and you didn’t tell me.” She swears down the line at me.

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