Page 49 of The Husband Game

“You sure? Matty’s breakfasts are great.”

“I’m sure,” Charlie said firmly. He could only imagine the amount of food hockey players put away and he’d rather eat something light in private.

“Okay. Your loss.” With a little smile, Dustin left the room.

When Charlie came downstairs an hour later, he was dressed in one of his work outfits. It was a cute little slim-cut summer-weight linen suit with a pink lacy cami underneath and a pair of strappy nude sandals.

His hair was done, his makeup was perfect, and he felt a whole lot more settled.

Matty was gone and Dustin was perched on a stool at the far end of the U-shaped island, tapping away at his laptop. He glanced up and froze, mouth half-open.

“Wow. You look great.” His voice was hoarse and Charlie felt a smug little pulse of satisfaction at being able to get that kind of reaction.

“Not too much?” He did a little twirl and Dustin licked his lips.

“Not at all.”

“You really aren’t bothered by the way I dress?” Charlie said, half a question, half an observation. He turned away, pulling cupboards open in search of tea. No luck there. It held plates.

“I think you look amazing.”

“You don’t think people will …”

“Have a problem with it?”

Charlie nodded.

“Fuck ’em. I don’t care if they do. I’m proud to have you on my arm and I’ll go toe-to-toe with anyone who treats you badly.”

Huh. It really sounded like Dustin meant that.

Charlie swallowed hard.

It was weird. As much as the general public assumed most, if not all, male figure skaters were gay, there was a weird pressure within the sport to avoid appearing gay. There’d been restrictions about his costuming, his songs, and his choreography.

They were unwritten rules, but they were clear.

Toward the end of his career he’d pushed the envelope, his little form of rebellion against the sport and his mother.

But it had only resulted in lower scoring and her displeasure.

Now, Charlie wondered how much of that he’d internalized. How often did he still dim his own light just to please others?

“Okay,” Charlie said quietly. “And thank you.”

“Of course.” Dustin glanced back at his laptop. “So, can we talk about our schedules for the week?”

“Sure.”

“I cleared everything after noon off my calendar so we can get you settled in. If you need some more time to unpack, there should be plenty of time this morning. This afternoon we’ll take care of all of the stuff we discussed last night.”

“You’re extremely efficient,” Charlie said and opened another door. Nope, nothing in there but glassware.

Dustin barked out a laugh. “I didn’t used to be. I was a hot mess when it came to scheduling stuff but Kate Foster set me right. She’s our Vice President of Communications but she started as a PR rep and still oversees a lot of what the Public Relations department does. She often winds up being a player wrangler too. Anyone who doesn’t have their shit together when they join the team gets their shit together. There are no excuses for being late to interviews. I have seen her make men easily twice her size look ready to cry.”

“I think I like her already,” Charlie said with a laugh.

“She’s a ball-buster,” Dustin said, grinning. “And I mean that in the best of ways. Her father, Martin Foster, is a Hall of Famer. His banner hangs in our arena. She grew up in this world and she learned she had to be tough, I think. When she got her job, there were people saying it was nepotism, of course. Along with the people saying she was only given the position because she’s beautiful.”

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