Page 11 of Romancing the Grump
She smiles. “Thanks. We have a lot of fun. Many of the guys play here without any intention of ever leaving. Felix, for example. He could have played in the NHL but didn’t want to. He’s only contracted with the Appies, so he’s never in danger of getting sent somewhere else. I’m sure that makes Gracie happy.”
“I’ve neverseenGracie so happy,” I say. “They’re honestly kind of ridiculous. Which is crazy because a year ago, Gracie was absolutely anti-hockey.”
“Anti-hockey is a word combination I do not understand,” Parker jokes. “Just wait. You’ll get the fever too.”
We reach her office door, and she pauses, one hand on the door jamb. “And just in case it becomes useful information, there is exactly zero policy against dating anyone at work, which means you’re free to dateanyof the single players. You just have to file something with HR.” She tilts her head to the side, gesturing into her office with a big, overdone smile. “I have the form if you ever need a copy.”
“Oh, no. That will not be necessary,” I say a little too quickly. “I have zero plans. No dating plans whatsoever. I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with dating. Or dating hockey players. Or hockey players in general. I’m just saying, that’s not why I’m here.”
I press my lips together to keep myself from rambling more stupid words. What is wrong with me? And why does my face feel so hot? I resist the urge to lift my hands and press them against my fiery cheeks. The action would only call attention to them, though based on Parker’s amused expression, we’re way past her making note of my embarrassment.
“Okay,” Parker says through a laugh. “I absolutely believe you.”
“Will you be traveling with the team when we go to Chicago next weekend?” I ask. I hope her answer is yes because even though Grant assured me it’s a nice bus with plenty of room for everyone to be comfortable, I’d still rather have Parker along if only to have someone to talk to.
She shakes her head no. “Not at first. I have a family thing on Wednesday night, so I’m flying out on Thursdaymorning. But I’ll be in Chicago in time for the game that night.”
I nod, mentally shifting my expectations to include the possibility of eight hours on a bus as the only woman. I can’t decide if I should be nervous or excited.
“Don’t stress about it,” Parker says, clearly reading my expression. “Bus rides are easy and usually pretty chill.”
I nod my thanks and head back to my office. The next task on my to-do list is a deep dive into Flex’s company history to make sure there’s no reason Nathan and Alec shouldn’t partner with them. Malik said the company checks out, and on the surface, they do. But I’d like to see what’sunderthe surface before I let anyone sign anything.
Three hours later, Flex has sent over an initial draft of the agreement, so I spend the rest of the afternoon redlining, making notes that I’ll hopefully be able to go over with Grant before he takes off for paternity leave.
Grant didn’t dropthatlittle bombshell on me until first thing this morning. Apparently, his wife is having a baby next week, and he thinks being withheris more important than holding my hand through my first contract meeting.
Which,fine.Of course he should be with his wife. And it’s not like I’ve never been thrown into the deep end before. I thrive in the deep end. Challenge excites me. And that’s all this is. A new challenge.
I’ll be fine. Probably I’ll be fine?
“Hey.”
I startle when a deep voice sounds just in front of my desk, and I toss my pen in the air, letting out an audible yelp.
Nathan stands in front of me, freshly showered and smelling divine. His hair is still damp, and tiny droplets of water dot the shoulders of his t-shirt.
I have no idea how he managed to sneak into my officewithout me hearing him, or even smelling him, but thehowof his appearance feels completely inconsequential next to thewhatstanding in front of me.
I open my mouth to speak, but sound completely escapes me, leaving me gaping like a very uncomfortable fish. I clear my throat. “Hi,” I finally manage to say. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. I got a message you had something for me to sign?”
I blink at him, willing my memory to recall whatever it is he’s talking about. Did I send Nathan a message? Pretty sure I would remember having an actual reason to invite him to my office. I also would have put on some lip gloss before he arrived.
“Um, I don’t have?—”
“Summer?” Grant calls through the open door directly connecting our adjacent offices. By the end of my second day, I quickly learned that Grant’s favorite way to communicate with me is to just…yellacross the distance and wait for me to respond.
“Yes, Grant?”
“Is that Nathan? Send him in here. I’ve got a thing he needs to sign.”
I lift a hand and motion toward Grant’s door.
I debate whether it would be worth reapplying lip glossnow,but I can’t be sure Nathan won’t just leave Grant’s office through the other door, bypassing my desk altogether, so I don’t.
Also, I don’t…because I shouldn’t. My lip gloss is Charlotte Tilbury and it’s amazing, but it’s also expensive as all get out. I’m not going to waste it on a potential sighting when there are no guarantees.
