Page 57 of Faking the Shot
When You’re All In (Whether She Is or Not)
I’m already pacing my kitchen when the doorbell rings, my nerves a live wire buzzing under my skin. It’s been a long fucking day, and this conversation with Valentina can’t wait.
I glance at the mug on the counter—green tea with a splash of honey. Her favorite. I’d texted Jacob earlier, asking for advice,and somehow his wife got involved. Between the two of them, they came up with the tea idea, calling it a peace offering. I’m not sure if it’s enough, but I need her to know I’m not entirely the asshole she thinks I am. At least, not all the time.
Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I head for the door. My stomach twists weirdly, but I ignore it, determined to face whatever storm Valentina’s bringing with her.
The second I open the door, the air feels different—charged. She’s standing there, looking so fucking beautiful it steals the breath from my lungs. Her hair’s loose, falling around her shoulders, and her makeup is just enough to highlight her features. She’s wearing this coat that cinches at the waist, hugging her curves, and for a moment, I forget why she’s angry with me.
Then I catch the look in her eyes—sharp, guarded, and definitely not happy to see me.
“You’re still mad, I assume,” I say, leaning one arm on the doorframe, trying to keep my tone light.
“Why would I be mad, Kaden?” she replies, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “It’s not like I was fired just for trying to get you some good press.” She steps inside without waiting for an invitation, brushing past me with enough force to make her point. “Oh wait, yes, I was.”
I sigh, shutting the door behind her. “You’re not going to let me off easy, are you?”
She spins around, arms crossed. “Should I? Because honestly, I can just leave and save you the trouble of pretending to give a fuck. Me personally, I’m out of fucks. Each time I try to restart my life everything goes to hell.”
“Valentina,” I start, running a hand through my hair, “can you just sit down for a second? I made you tea. Let me talk and if what I say isn’t enough I’ll disappear from your life—and make sure you get a job that you love.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she follows me to the kitchen, her heels clicking against the hardwood floors. I set the steaming mug in front of her as she perches on one of the stools at the island.
“Green tea,” I say, sliding the honey across the counter. “The way you like it.”
She blinks, caught off guard for a second, before narrowing her eyes. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“Not trying to change anything,” I reply, sitting across from her. “Just trying to apologize.”
Her hands wrap around the mug, but she doesn’t take a sip. “Go on, then. Apologize.”
I take a deep breath, the words heavier than they should be. “Look, I fucked up. I shouldn’t have said what I did at the rink. I was out of line, and it wasn’t fair to you. That wasn’t your fault, and I know that. I—” I pause, struggling to get the next words out. “I want to hire you.”
Her mouth falls open slightly before she catches herself and straightens in her seat. “Excuse me?”
“I’m saying I was wrong,” I clarify, the corners of my mouth twitching despite myself. “You’re good at what you do, Valentina. And honestly, I need you. You, not the PR firm, just you.”
She stares at me for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she exhales, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Yeah, well,” I mutter, scratching the back of my neck, “don’t get used to it.”
Her lips twitch, like she’s fighting a smile, but she still doesn’t drink the tea. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
“Yeah,” I say, leaning forward on my elbows. “But if you want, I could be your piece of work.”
That gets a reaction—a soft snort of laughter she quickly covers with a sip from her mug. But it’s enough to tell me I’ve got a shot at fixing this. Maybe.
“Okay . . .” She drags the word out, her gaze narrowing on me. “Why? I mean, why all of a sudden are you going back on your word?”
“My life is a fucking mess,” I admit, letting out a sigh and dragging a hand down my face. “I got into it again with Linus on the ice. None of the team will talk to me, and now my coach is telling me if I don’t get my shit together, I could be off the team next year.”
I glance at Valentina, bracing for her reaction. I expect her to sympathize, to champion me like she always does. What I get instead makes me want to flip the fucking table.
She’s staring at me like I just told her the weather forecast.
“What the hell kind of look is that?”
“What do you want me to look like, Kaden?” she retorts, calm as ever. “It’s not like you’re saying anything I didn’t see coming. Honestly, I’m surprised your coach hasn’t already benched you. You create a hostile work environment.” She shrugs, and it’s like a match to a gasoline-soaked pile of my patience.
