So Over You (Chicago Rebels #2)(69)

“And what about your mother’s rights? Maybe she was afraid because your father could buy his way into Mia’s life.”

“He would not have needed to do that. Every girl wants to know her father.”

He could see her clever mind working overtime, seeking another access point to his compassion. She wouldn’t find it. He was all tapped out as far as Victoria Wallace was concerned.

“You said your father might have had an affair, like that was normal. Like your mother should have put up with that.”

“Your mother put up with your father. Though the fact that she is gay may excuse his behavior.”

She sat up. “He cheated on Harper’s mother with mine. He cheated on mine with Violet’s. And I know there were more. But of course, hockey players always defend their own. The ice brotherhood, right?”

“All I am saying is that an uninterested woman in your bed changes the situation.”

“Of course, the woman is always to blame.”

“Your mother is a lesbian! There is fault on both sides there, Isobel.”

She pointed a finger in his shoulder. “Exactly. But my mother’s sexuality didn’t give my father an excuse to bang everything that’s not nailed down. Harper’s mother can’t give him a son, he moves on. My mother can’t satisfy him, he moves on. He knocks Violet’s mom up and abandons her.”

“Yet you loved him.”

Her eyes reflected her hurt. “Yet I did.”

“As I loved my father. For all his flaws.”

She leaned in, her breath soft against his lips. “We can acknowledge they had faults, that they were not perfect, but they were still the men who shaped us. You can forgive him his faults, but not your mother hers?”

Back to this. “People make sacrifices all the time for their children. For the people they love. My father was not perfect, but surely she could tolerate his faults for a few years. Until I was old enough to not care if they were no longer together.”

“He might have cheated on her, and she should put up with that? Is that what you think marriage is, Vadim? One person calls the shots because he has the power? Or because there are children who would probably be better off with their parents apart? Never mind that he’s unfaithful. That he screws around. That he’s unable to resist the women throwing themselves at him because he’s powerful and rich.”

He sensed she was accusing him of crimes he had yet to commit.

“I am not my father, Isobel.” Nor yours.

“That’s not what I meant.” She looked rattled. “Not everything is so clear cut, Vadim. You’ve heard your father’s side of the story. Get your mother’s now while you can.”





TWENTY-THREE




“Chica, you look hot!”

Isobel handed off her coat to the cloakroom attendant at the Drake Hotel, site of the Hockey for Everyone fund-raiser, and faced Violet, who was shrugging off her jacket.

“I do a lot with this foundation, so I don’t want to look like I just crawled out of a sweaty gym bag.”

Violet passed off her coat and ran a hand through her hair, to which she had recently added purple streaks. With her gleaming skin, emerald eyes, and floral tattoos on her upper arms, she looked so sexy in a red shift dress and thigh-high boots. Dominatrix chic. Isobel didn’t look sexy in the slightest, let alone hot, but she was mildly pleased at how this green dress matched her eyes and draped over her body, giving her curves that were previously nonexistent. With the kitten heels, she wasn’t too tall—though Vadim would always be taller no matter how high her heels.

“The Russian’s going to think you’re totally bangin’.”

Isobel grimaced. “I’m trying to cool that off.” And doing a fantastic job by nagging the guy to talk about his deep, dark problems. Go, me!

“Ladies, lookin’ fine.”

They turned to see Cade, Erik, and Bren walking in, rocking smart suits with ties. Even though the guys wore suits on game days, there was still something about seeing a big hunk of brawn all dressed up that got a girl’s senses atingling.

Cade, complimenter in chief, kissed Vi on the cheek and then pulled Isobel in for a hug. “Off the clock, Coach, so just accept my affection.”

Isobel laughed. “If I must. You ready to flash those pearly whites for the children, Alamo?” One of the fun parts of the evening was a bachelor auction with the single players. According to Felicia in Rebels’ PR, anticipation was at a fever pitch, especially as the team had six games left in the regular season and was on the cusp of making the play-offs. Charity events always raised the profile for the team, and getting the Rebels behind this one was great for their image.

Cade grinned big. “As long as some cougar doesn’t expect me to put out on the first date, we should be good.”

Violet was eyeing Bren, who was doing his utmost to ignore her. “Should we expect to see you on the block, Highlander?”

He scowled. “Doubt anyone would be interested.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Violet said, all mischief. “I think I’ll set conditions for my bid. I’d like to see you in a kilt on our date.”

Bren raised his scruffily bearded chin—almost a play-offs beard, which was definitely tempting fate—and held Violet’s gaze. His eyes ran a disapproving arc over her hair, then a not-so-disapproving arc over her body. “Not bloody likely, Ms. Vasquez.”