Page 23 of Just One Season
Bullshit. LOOK AT HIM
Finally caught up on the messages, I crack up as I slide back behind myown desk.
Me
Get your asses over here and maybe we can all bang it out with some hockey players
January
YES LUCY
Me
Janny! I’m kidding. I’m a professional woman, plus there are HR rules
I flip my phone over and bite back a smile.
We can laugh about it all we want, but I need to keep it professional while I’m here. I can’t let hot hockey players distract me.
Even ones with abs for days.
My phone vibrates again, and I flip it over with a grin.
It’s Ron. Calling.
A string of thoughts flies through my mind.
I should ignore the call he has no right to call me no reason that I need to answer what if it’s important?—
Or I could take the call and get it over with. Something tells me he’s not going to leave a voicemail or let this go.
And even if he does, there’s no way I’ll call him back later.
“Hello.” My voice is tight, and my shoulders bunch up around my neck.
“Lucy?”
“Yeah.” I squeeze my eyes shut. His voice feels half like coming home and half like stepping on a stray thumbtack. “Why are you calling me, Ron?”
There’s a brief silence.
“I wanted to check in on you. And… Max. See how things are going in Colorado.” He pauses. “I miss you, Lucy.”
My stomach twists at the tenderness in his voice. He has no right. I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. I won’t let him suck me in again.
“Things are great here.” If he thinks I’m going to chit-chat with him about my life, he’s mistaken.
There’s a silence as he presumably waits for more.
“Listen, Lucy. Richard—sorry, your father—talked to Paul Harrison, the Blizzard team owner.”
“I know who Paul Harrison is. And I know Richard is my father.”
I can’t believe I came all the way out here, and I have the Blizzard team owner looking over my shoulder and reporting back to my father, who’s reporting back to Ron. I knew about Paul and my father’s connection before I got here, I just didn’t really think through the implications of that connection.
“Richard is worried about you. I am too. We all know that the farthest you’ve ever lived from D.C. is two hours away for college.”
“Neither of you need to worry about me.” My insides twist. “I’m a fully grown adult. And it’s none ofyourbusiness what I’m up to.” I hate how defensive I sound.
