Page 80 of Grudge Puck
He lifted her suitcase from the baggage carousel easily. For Camille, it'd been a struggleto get the cumbersome thing from her apartment, to the subway, to an airport shuttle, and then lug it around LaGuardia … But Beau threw the suitcase around as if it were lighter than air.
Hand in hand, they started walking to Beau's car. Camille loved the way her hand disappeared totally in his firm grip; how his giant paw just swallowed her comparatively tiny hand right up.
As they walked, a passerby spotted Beau and said his name: “Beau Bradford.”
Beau, donning his usual disguise—ball cap and sunglasses—nodded back at the fan.
These days, the disguise was almost a necessity when Beau went out into the public with Camille. In the span of a year, Beau had managed to turn his on-ice reputation completely around. He didn't wear the 'pest' label anymore; now he was a 'goal-scoring power-forward.' And once the Blizzard team executives were convinced that Beau's shift was real and permanent, they happily began marketing him as one of the faces of the franchise. His handsome mug adorned billboards, fliers, and bus ads all over the city.
“How was practice, Mr. Famous?” Camille asked.
“Practice was fine, babe,” he answered. His smile spread, and she knew he had something on his mind.
“You're awfully smiley,” she said, poking a playful finger into his abs.
“Yeah, well, I figured you'd be upset if Iwasn'tpretending to be happy.” He wiped the smile right off his face and turned to her, looking stone-cold and grave. “See this face? This is how Iactuallyfeel about you coming to live with me.”
With a smile, she landed an upper-cut into his gut. “Dick.”
… But she knew perfectly well he was kidding.
It was Beau, after all, who relentlessly campaigned for more visits to Denver and practicallypulledCamille away from working at her bakery 24/7. (And thank God for that, she'd say to herself, because she knew she could've easily spent her whole life tirelessly working otherwise.)
It was Beau who proposed on their one year anniversary, too.
And after she excitedly shoutedyes!, it was Beau who didn't miss a beat and started asking when, exactly, she planned to move to Denver so they could live together and start planning their lives together as husband and wife.
Not that Camille was just going with the flow; she was just as crazy about Beau as he was about her. It also helped that the time she spent visiting Beau in Denver always made her feel she transformed from 'small-time business owner trying to eke out a living in a stressful, crowded city,'to 'Denver royalty living a fantasy life in the lovely mountains.'
Beau always lavished her with gifts, took her out dining to the fanciest restaurants, took her traveling whenever his schedule allowed. They enjoyed a jam-packed, jet-set life together. In some ways, Camille didn't feel like she deserved it; she felt like she should be working on herownbusiness instead of enjoying the fruits of Beau's sporting fame. But she learned to temper that inner voice and let herself enjoy the various ways Beau wanted to spoil her, without feeling guilty, without freaking over the day-to-day stressors of owning a business.
Because hey: Beau had changed a lot for her. It was only fair that she should work on herself, too. Learn to live a little, learn to enjoy what she had.
And so, when a Manhattan ownership group emerged from the blue and offered Camille and Piper a jaw-dropping sum for their popular and now wildly successful vegan bakery? The two girls agreed tolive a littleand sell.
Camille also found the challenge tempting: could she open a vegan restaurant in Denver and catch lightning in a bottle twice?
“Seriously though, why are you smiling so much? What are you hiding?” she asked Beau.
“I'm happy!This is a big day in our lives, Cammy. It's finally happened.”
She pressed herself into his side. “Aw. I'm so happy too, Beau.”
… But still, she knew he was hiding something.
They found his Range Rover parked just outside the airport. They hopped in and drove off. Later, on the highway, Beau missed his usual exit.
“Dude!” Camille yelled. “You missed your exit!”
“I did …? Damn it, I did, didn't I?” Beau said, pounding his fist on the steering wheel in a fashion that struck Camille as far too theatrical to be genuine.
Camille narrowed her eyes.Now I know he's up to something.
The next exit came, but sure enough, Beau didn't pull off there, either.
“Where are we going, Beau?”
“We're almost there,” he said with a grin.
