Page 125 of The Wildest One
“You’re not going to give me their descriptions? I’m gutted.” She winked.
“You’re funny—but I’ll play your game.” I pointed at the plate of tuna. “Here’s our signature tuna tartare, over a bed of avocado, sliced ginger, and crispy tempura flakes with a wasabi aioli drizzled on top. The fried wonton crisps are used for dipping, and the chef recommends you soak those crisps in the ponzu sauce, which you’ll see rolling around the plate, as the combination of the savory avocado and tangy sauce is mouthwatering good.” I paused. “How’d I do?”
“I think Walker would be very proud. Also, this looks amazing.” She lifted her whiskey sour, smiling—I assumedbecause she knew I’d gone light on the sour mix. “Beck, you can’t possibly understand how happy I am right now.”
“I can. Because I am too.”
“Yeah?” She clinked her glass against my bourbon.
“Fuck yeah.” My eyes dipped down her face, the candles flickering a warm glow across her skin. “I got the girl.”
She let out an adorable laugh. “You did, for sure.”
I took a drink and set my glass down. “Tell me why you’re the happiest.”
“I’m here. With you.” Her eyes were so fucking full of love. “A man I’ve been completely obsessed with for years. And I get to watch you play in person rather than on the TV, and I can’t even express how much I love that. And I get to work with you. Travel with you. Spend each night with you.”
Within an instant, the love and happiness completely fell from her face.
Fuck. This was exactly what I hadn’t wanted to happen.
“Jolie, stop worrying.”
“I can’t help it. I have no idea what’s waiting for me when I get home. What if I have to make a choice? What if it’s you or the Whales?—”
“Don’t even put your head there until you’re faced with that decision, which I don’t think you will be.” I nodded toward the food, encouraging her to start eating. “I don’t want you dwelling on this tonight. That’s why I set up this date—to get your mind off things.”
“I adore you for that.” She gave me a weak smile. “But it’s impossible. It’s all I think about.”
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
She shrugged. “Even if we try to talk around it, somehow, we’ll end up discussing it. It’s the kind of topic that’s unavoidable.”
She was right.
Aside from hockey and The Weston Group, it was the biggest thing in both of our lives.
“Then let’s talk about it.” I hoped I didn’t regret this. “What’s going on between you and your dad? What does he say when you talk to him?”
She lifted a shrimp and dipped it into our new version of cocktail sauce—one we recently introduced to all Charred restaurants worldwide. Instead of offering the traditional ketchup and horseradish mix, it was now a tangy sweet and sour sauce with a bit of a kick.
“Mmm, delicious,” she said behind her hand as she chewed. “Dad’s been short with me. We talk when we absolutely have to, and each time, I can hear the disappointment in his voice.”
“It’s not getting better?”
She huffed, “No.”
I picked up a wonton and dipped it into the tuna. “Do you think it’s because you two haven’t hashed it out yet?”
“I feel like he’s waiting for me to get off the road before he questions me. In the past, whenever there was a mishap with one of the accounts I worked on, I was always in the office, so the interrogation started immediately.”
“Sounds like he’s a face-to-face guy.”
“Insert more anxiety.” She fanned her face.
I reached across the table, over each plate of food, and put my hand on hers. “We have two more stops after this, and so far, we’re undefeated. I want you to celebrate that because you have a huge part in our wins.”
“Me?” She shook her head. “I’m not on that ice. I’m the marketing part of the machine. I have no part in anything you guys do during the games.”
