Page 44 of My Wife
“Cara! In no world is that what I’m thinking about right now. The wedding gown is still warm!”
“But you didn’t love Rexlan.”
I frown but don’t disagree. “How would you know?”
“Because you didn’t even like him. If you truly did, you would’ve introduced us. And that’s why I’ve forgiven you for not telling me about the wedding.”
I tilt my head from side to side, realizing there’s really some truth to the whole hindsight is twenty-twenty saying. “Yes. No. But that’s not the point.” I wave my arms, flustered. “Liam outright said that he doesn’t like me.”
Cara’s mouth forms a perfectO, but before she can say more, the servers bustle by with trays of food and we return to the table, complete with potato pucks.
“Look! I ordered your favorite!” Cara exclaims. “Peace offering?”
“This conversation isn’t over.”
Gracie, who seems like she was born with a ray of sunshine beaming over her and didn’t have to cultivate it, says, “I hear you’re Liam’s new assistant.”
My answer is a grunt and not because he’s already rubbing off on me. My mouth is full of buttery, bacony, potato goodness.
Delaney says, “The guy is a lightning rod for controversy.”
“And so handsome in that authority ’stache kind of way.” Leah waggles her eyebrows.
I nearly choke on my next big bite. “Do you mean like a mustache?”
“She’s still looking for love in all the wrong places,” Cara says.
“Says the woman who married a hockey player.”
Whit breaks in, “Oh, speaking of, you have to stop by The Milk Mustache truck on Sunday.”
I lift my shoulder. “Liam could use a cookie.”
Whit shakes her head. “I mean with your grandma. We’re working on a whoopie pie together. I cannot get the cookie consistency right.”
“I’ll help you taste test,” Gracie says.
My reply comes belatedly because I was thinking of Liam and the cookies at his house. “Of course.”
Delaney tells a story about how Ellis got a penalty for what looked like an open ice hit with the shoulder to a rival player on the Titans named Henri Valjean.
“He injured someone? Is that why he was out for two weeks?” Margo asks.
Cara says, “No. My father had another reason. But an official investigation concluded that Valjean’s injury was preexisting and he staged the whole thing.”
“Aren’t there measures in place to prevent that for preexisting injuries?” Delaney asks.
“I thought Liam was the goon, so that came with the territory,” Whit says.
“He doesn’t date and he’s a thug?” I ask, recalling what Cara said yesterday and what I’ve gleaned about the guy.
“Just your run-of-the-mill grouch with anger management issues,” Gracie says breezily like it’s no big deal.
“Is that common?”
Margo elaborates, “The Knights claim several verified grumps: Vohn, the assistant coach, and Gracie’s husband; Beau, my guy and the goalie along with Liam. There are a few others to varying degrees. But Beau is relatively misunderstood. He’s more of a stoic than a true grump.”
I recall the books on Liam’s shelves.
