A Secret for a Secret (All In #3)(45)

A little head of wavy auburn hair pops out from behind her legs, and huge blue eyes register recognition.

“Hey, Lavender!”

She ducks behind her mother’s legs.

“You remember Queenie, don’t you, Lavender?”

She looks up at her mother and gives her a serious nod. Then she turns that beautiful blue gaze back on me, and a huge smile lights up her face. She lifts her hand in a wave. “Hi, Keenie.”

Violet’s eyes flare, and she blinks a bunch of times before she strokes her daughter’s hair and beams down at her. “Good job, sweetheart. Maybe after we’re done here I should take you for ice cream. Would you like that?”

Lavender nods vigorously, her smile growing even wider.

Based on Violet’s reaction and my previous interaction with Lavender, I’m taking it that it’s a big deal for her to have actually said hello to me and used my name.

Violet checks her phone. “They’ve been in that meeting since eight thirty this morning. I hope this works out, or it’s going to be a lot of headaches and hours spent negotiating for no reason.”

I lower my voice. “Do you know what’s going on?”

“Only that they’re trying to negotiate a contract, but there’s some huge NDA attached to the deal, so he can’t even say who they’re negotiating the deal for.”

“It must be a pretty high-profile player.”

“Has to be; otherwise he wouldn’t be so tight lipped about it. Anyway, I was dropping by to see if the deal was done, because I’m nosy and I want to know all the secrets, but Lavender has a doctor’s appointment, so I guess it’s going to have to wait.” She reaches for Lavender’s hand, but she’s no longer standing beside her.

Instead she’s next to me. She tugs on my sleeve and holds out a piece of artwork.

“Did you draw this?”

She nods. “For you,” she whispers.

“You drew this for me?” I take it from her when she nods.

While it looks very much like the art of a child, it’s clear that Lavender has an incredible eye for the use of color, which is cool to see, since she’s so young.

“Good remembering, Lavender. She’s been holding on to that for weeks now, asking when she can see you.”

“Well, I love it. Thank you very much, Lavender. And the next time you stop by, we’ll have to draw something together. Sound good?”

She ducks her head with a smile and rushes back to the safety of her mother’s side. Violet and Lavender head out, and I find a place to tack up my new art. When I was a teenager, I used to go to an art camp in the summer for a couple of weeks. My favorite part was always working with the younger kids. When I started my college degree, I’d wanted to do something with art and children. At least until I lost my confidence and dropped out.

I’m about to get back to work when laughter comes from behind my dad’s office door. A few seconds later he steps out, followed by Alex. They’re smiling widely, which I’m taking to mean that whatever they were negotiating went well.

“Queenie, honey, it’s great that you’re here. I want to introduce you to the newest member of our team, and then you can help me get his paperwork together.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to.” I push away from my desk, preparing to greet the unnamed player. As far as I know, it’s uncommon for a trade to happen once the season has already started, but he and Alex seem pretty pleased.

A man appears, and my dad claps him on the shoulder. “Queenie, this is Corey Slater.”

I have to fight to keep my smile from turning into a grimace.

I know Corey.

Not because he’s an NHL player and is always in the media for some bullshit or other, but because he’s my ex.





CHAPTER 17





THE STORM IS A DOUCHE


Queenie

This isn’t happening.

Not today. Not when I’m rocking a seriously sweet postsex high. Or was.

Because now a horrible blast from my past is here, ruining everything.

Corey Slater is a giant dick.

His man unit is anything but, however.

He’s the reason I stopped watching hockey for a good six years. Especially when he first made the NHL and played for my favorite team. Even now I tend to avoid the games when I know his team is playing. But I can’t do that anymore. Because he plays for Seattle.

For half a second I consider pretending I don’t know Corey, but I realize it’s probably not a great idea.

Especially with the way he’s smirking.

Corey tips his chin up. “Hey, Queenie.”

“Hello, Corey. It’s been a long time.”

My dad looks between us, head whipping back and forth a few times. Sort of like a cat following a digital mouse on an iPad screen. “You two know each other?”

“We went to college together a long time ago. My first year.” I sound like a robot, but I’m sort of freaking out.

I never thought I’d have to see Corey up close again. Sure, I knew that I’d see him eventually during the season at a game, but he was supposed to be playing for Philly, so I’d only have to see his last name scrawled across his jersey. Not his stupid, smug face every single damn day. Minus my rare days off.