Page 63 of Faking it with the Billionaire
He’s out the door before I have time to ask who the hell she is. Well, I’m about to find out.
I step out onto the porch, not wanting this strange woman anywhere near Bristol. Even if Kyler isn’t concerned, he hasn’t answered any of my questions about who she is and what she’s doing here.
She stalks down the length of the private driveway in heels. The woman is all class, but… Why the hell didn’t she drive in past the gates?
She cranes her neck, getting a full view of the property before landing eyes on me. The brunette smiles, but it feels forced.
“Emerson, right?” she asks, glancing me up and down. She looks a tad disappointed by what she sees. I’m still in pajamas. I wasn’t expecting visitors.
“Yes, that’s me. Can I help you?” My back is to the house, keeping her from the front entrance, shielding Bristol and Lia inside.
In her right hand is an envelope, sealed with wax, and in calligraphy, my first name. She hands it to me and purses her lips. “If you decide to come, it’s required that you wear your fiancé’s jersey.”
Without another word, she turns and heads back down the road.
I didn’t even get her name. I wait until she’s outside the property and the metal gate closes before sauntering into the house.
“Was that Kate James?” Lia is still peering out the window when I step inside. “She’s Asher’s wife. He’s the enforcer for the team.”
His wife isn’t familiar, but I know Asher. It’s my responsibility to know all the players, but their wives I haven’t studied up on because I didn’t think of them as suspects. Maybe I should.
“What’d she bring you?” Lia asks, glancing at the envelope in my hand.
It’s formal. Fancy. I carefully open the thick envelope to reveal an invitation to a private event hosted by the hockey wives.
“You have to go to that,” Lia says. “And tell me everything afterward.”
“I thought you weren’t into hockey?” I frown, putting the invitation back into its envelope.
“My high school boyfriend used to blab on about the sport. I really don’t know much, but she did a full spread in one of those scantily clad magazines, and I remember catching him—”
I nod vaguely toward Bristol, who is watching the two of us eagerly.
Lia’s eyes widen, and she blinks repeatedly, shutting her mouth, perhaps realizing the conversation needed to end, and quickly.
“Let’s get you ready for a fun day at the zoo,” Lia says.
“What were you two talking about?” Bristol asks.
“It’s time to get you upstairs and dressed,” I say, changing the subject and trying my best to distract Bristol. The kid is smart, and I don’t need her blabbering on to Kyler about anything she overhears.
I text Kyler while he’s en route to the guys for practice.
Invitation received. She mentioned wearing your jersey. Should I grab one at the store?
He immediately responds via text.
Absolutely not. That isn’t acceptable. I’ll bring you one of mine to wear. When’s the get-together?
I don’t feel ready for an event with the hockey wives, but I’m going to have to pull it off if I want to be invited to the wives’ room, where the ladies gossip before the game and during intermission.
Tomorrow. I text him back.
Food drive?
How did you know?
He doesn’t text me back. It isn’t overly important, he probably arrived at practice with the guys, but a ‘see you later’ or ‘goodbye’ would have been nice.
