Page 7 of Famous Last Words
Keller just blinks at him as if she has no idea what he’s talking about. And it doesn’t shock me. I’m the biggest name in the NHL right now, but her head’s always been too far up her own ass to care about anything that doesn’t involve her.
“New York is unfamiliar to my client, so we’re looking for a centrally located apartment that’s close to his gym, the team’s training center, Madison Square Garden, and—” he casts me a furtive glance before tentatively continuing, “—and close to NHL headquarters on Ninth Avenue.”
I spear him with a warning look because I swear to God, if he so much as hints to her the reason I need to be close to league headquarters, I will drop his ass faster than a cocky rookie who thinks he’s on the verge of a breakaway.
Keller turns from Andy to me, the icy look in her eyes thawing some.
She studies me, lips pursed, arms folded across her chest, and I’ve never been able to stand her rich-bitch holier-than-thou attitude. She was like this at school, and it’s safe to say not much has changed. It doesn’t matter to her that I’m no longer thehood-rat kid from Dorchester, picked up by her fancy prep school and given a scholarship just because I was good on the ice. It doesn’t matter that I’m now a professional hockey player with three championships, multi-million-dollar contracts, and major sponsorship deals. She’s still looking at me like I’m beneath her. So you know what? Fuck her.
“Look, forget it.” I snap, throwing my hands in the air. “This place fucking sucks anyway.” That last part’s a flat out lie but, again, fuck her.
I spin around, heading directly for the door.
Andy hurries behind me, lowering his voice as he says, “Will you stop and think of the terms to your contract.”
And, yeah, I need to have secured a permanent place of residence before game one, but I’d rather do a deal with the Devil himself than Fran fucking Keller.
“Wait!”
I stop. Not because she told me to. It’s the tone in her voice that causes me to pause mid-step. A little less self-assured than usual.
Intrigue sufficiently piqued, I turn slowly, clocking her where she stands with one hand gripping her phone, the other toying nervously with the thin gold chain that sits around her neck. Her throat bobs with a swallow and she takes a moment, as if the words are hard for her to say, before finally speaking.
“At least let me show you around first?” she says hopefully, posing it as a question, and it’s that uncharacteristic vulnerability that doesn’t make me immediately flip her off and storm out.
I feel Andy glance in my direction, and I really wish I had a choice. But frankly, he’s right. The terms of my Thunder contract are strict, to say the least. If I fuck this up, I can wave goodbye to the NHL, because no matter how good a hockey player I am, no other team will touch me.
I’m about to relent, but before I do, Keller speaks again.
“Ninth Avenue is literally right down there,” she says,pointing out one of the glass walls. When she turns back to me, her face is suddenly fraught with panic.
Wait a second. Is she desperate?
Call me an asshole, but I decide to play hard to get, setting my jaw even tighter, staring at her long and hard because she’s about to break. I can almost see the telltale cracks in her otherwise gleaming armor.
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Keller glances down at her phone, staring at it as if it holds all the answers, her mind obviously working overtime. And suddenly, I realize the tapping of her shiny blue stiletto isn’t her being obnoxious, it’s nerves. I’m forced to bite back my shit-eating grin because oh, how the mighty have fallen.
“Come on, Andy,” I say pointedly. “Let’s go see that condo in Brooklyn.”
Andy looks at me again like I’ve lost my mind. For the record there is no Brooklyn condo. I’m bluffing, but it seems to be working when Keller’s head snaps up, eyes comically wide and full of dread.
“Please don’t go!”
Both Andy and I gape at her outburst; I try not to laugh while Andy looks between Keller and me, like he’s wondering what the hell is going on.
Keller seems to consider her words, looking down at her phone once more, shoulders falling a little. I’d almost feel sorry for her if I didn’t know first-hand what an A plus asshole she is.
“Look,” she begins tentatively, avoiding my eyes. “I really need to sell this place.”
And there it is. What do you know, she is desperate. And I can’t say I hate it.
She releases a breath, and I don’t miss the way it tremors. “I have until Friday. If I don’t get a signed deal, my boss is going to give this listing to my…assholeex-boyfriend, and I’m effectively going to lose my job because there is no way in the nine circles of hell that I am working with him again.” She snaps her mouthshut as if she’s said too much, and I catch an unexpected fragility in her gaze as her eyes flit from me to Andy and back again before dropping to the floor.
And I’m a lot of things, but a heartless prick isn’t one of them. So, after a brief pause, I huff, rolling my eyes like I’ve never been more inconvenienced in my life. “Okay, fine. Show us around,” I say with a bored sigh.
Her eyebrows climb high, the dark cloud above her lifting just a little. “Really?”
I nod, remaining stoic so as to not give myself away.
