Page 31 of Perfectly Grumpy

“That was different."

Olivia leans toward me, touching my arm. “Just think about it, okay? I don’t want to push, but I also don’t want you to miss out because you’re protecting yourself too much.” She pauses. “Mom made us promise we’d stick together, to continue this tradition no matter what. We’ve made so many good memories.”

I close my eyes and sigh. “Okay, I’ll come. But no promises about how long I’ll stay.”

Olivia smiles, relief flooding her face. “Thank you. And will you at least think about bringing Tate?”

Before I can answer, my phone dings loudly. Attached is a photo of Tate being licked on the cheek by a certain floppy-eared pup. His eyes are crinkled from laughing, and he looks ridiculously charming.

Tate

Annie was whimpering after you left, like she really missed you. I told her you’d be back.

My heart does a weird little lurch.

“Why are you smiling?” Olivia asks.

“Nothing,” I say too fast, tucking my phone away.

She grabs it before I can stop her. “Oh,thisis nothing?” she teases, studying the screen. “Lauren. That man is sending you puppy selfies. That’s not nothing.”

“I told you, it’s forwork.”

“Uh-huh.Work.” Then she flips to my photos. “There are likefiftyof these.”

I steal my phone back. “It’s not that serious.”

Olivia nods. “Mm-hmm. Just keep telling yourself that, Lauren.”

TWELVE

lauren

The entire Ice House Arena is thick with tension tonight. It’s not just the usual pre-game intensity—this is Game 7 of the Calder Cup Finals. As the PR agent for the team, there’s an added layer of pressure, because winning will boost our chances with potential sponsors for next season, and every successful campaign adds to the résumé I’ll need if I ever want a shot at the NHL. With my latte in hand, I’m ready to conquer the night—even if that’s just my caffeine talking.

I rush through the arena toward the seats where some of our sponsors are gathered when Rafael Marco, team owner, flags me down.

“Lauren, I need you to grab Tate and get a photo with one of our VIP sponsors. I think they want to talk with him about an animal shelter donation.”

That means the article I wrote as a press release is working. “He’s probably in the locker room. It’ll take me a minute.”

I take a back staircase down a private hallway that leads toward the locker room and run into Jaz, our community engagement coordinator.

“I’m on a mission to track down Tate for a sponsor op—have you seen him?”

She shakes her head. “Tate’s a popular guy tonight.”

I tilt my head. “Really? Why?”

Jaz points over her shoulder. “Because your sister just arrived and was also looking for him.”

I frown. “Oliviais here?” I vaguely remember Olivia asking me about it during our meeting. Jake wanted to bring the kids to see a playoff game, but I completely forgot they were coming tonight. “Did she say why she needs to talk to Tate?”

Jaz shrugs. “Maybe she just wants a picture? I pointed her to the rink.”

I hurry toward the ice, knowing I have to catch Tate before my sister gets to him. When I reach the rink, I nearly choke on my latte. Because my sister is chatting with none other than Tate Foster.

Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be an issue. But I may have slightly told my sister that I’m dating someone. And that someone is currently smiling at her, blissfully ignorant that he’s in a relationship he didn’t agree to.

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