Him (Him #1)(76)

I lean in for the handshake. “I’d like to do that.”

“It’s a big decision, you can take the weekend…”

Now I shake my head. “I want to coach. I don’t need the weekend.”

He sits back, his expression telling me he’s impressed. “Well, all right then. Can I hook you up with a rental agency? Housing is going to be a little tricky. Toronto is expensive. We pay our coaches what we can, but nobody’s getting rich…”

“Yeah, I’m going to need to sort that out.” For the first time in an hour, I think of Wes. He might be only a few miles away right now, looking for an apartment, too.

I need to speak to him—I’ve already decided that. But then I’ll have to find a way to put him out of my mind. I don’t want to always be looking for his face when I walk down the street.

Moving on is going to be hard.

I stand up and offer my hand one more time. Bill shakes it, still smiling as if he’s just won the lottery. At least I’ll be working for a good man. I’m hoping that means good things about this organization, too.

“Let me know how I can help you get settled in,” Bill says, rising from his chair. “I mean it. Shoot me an email if you have any questions about neighborhoods or whatever.”

“I’ll do that.”

Five minutes later, I’m outside again on the streets of Toronto, loosening the tie I’d worn to my interview. I missed lunch today, so I take a seat at an outdoor cafe on Lakeshore and order a wrap sandwich and iced coffee.

Toronto is a nice place. A big city, too. Somehow I have to find Wes today. I tried calling him this morning after I got off the plane, but his number has been disconnected. At first I’d panicked, thinking he’d gone to great lengths to shut me out. But when my phone carrier sent me a text explaining the international charges I was racking up in Canada, I realized Wes had probably switched to a Canadian carrier.

That has to be it, right?

Either way, I need another plan for reaching him quickly. I could go to the rink, but I doubt they’ll let me just waltz in. And even if they do, Wes might not appreciate it…

My phone rings, startling me, and for a second my heart leaps. But of course the caller isn’t Wes. The phone says HOLLY.

“Hi there,” I answer, trying to keep my tone light. We haven’t spoken since our awkward evening in Lake Placid, but I’m really hoping she meant what she said about us still being friends. “You’ll never guess where I am right now.”

She laughs, and the sound is comforting. “Not Detroit, then?”

“Nope. Toronto. I’m taking a coaching job.”

“Really? That’s great, Jamie. I’m so proud of you. Glad you went with your gut.”

My heart swells a little. Everyone likes to hear they’ve done well. “Thanks. It’s going to be an adjustment. Canadian money is funny looking.”

Holly giggles. “Why Toronto? Are you going to tell me about your mystery woman?”

“Um…” Ouch. “Not sure if that’s going to work out. And I’m not too happy about it.”

“Oh honey.” There’s genuine sympathy in her voice. “I’m sorry. Why not?”

The waitress drops off my food, and I take a moment to thank her. “So,” I say, glancing over my shoulder. I’m alone and outside, which is why I answered my phone in the first place. “Here’s something that will crack you right up.” I need to tell someone. And Holly will keep my secret. She’s a good friend.

“What?”

“My mystery woman? There isn’t one. I was seeing a guy.”

There is deep silence for a moment. “Really?” She sounds incredulous.

“Really. Apparently I’m, um…” I’ve never said it out loud before. “Bisexual.” There. That really wasn’t so hard.

“I’m… Wow,” Holly says. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither.” I laugh. “It’s been a really interesting summer.”

“Who is he? Wait—that friend from the hotel! And the rink in Lake Placid! Ryan somebody.”

Well, f*ck. I forgot that women are so weirdly intuitive. “Holly, you can’t tell anyone. It doesn’t matter so much to me, but it could really hurt him.”

Her sigh is loud in my ear. “I won’t tell a soul. But…he dumped you? I’ll kill him.”

Now she has me smiling. “You are the best. Have I ever told you that?”

“Eh,” she sighs. “I have my moments. Hey, now I can stop trying to figure out what sort of girl you’d fallen for. Wondering what she had that I don’t was really taking up a lot of my free time. Now at least I know the answer—a dick.”

I burst out laughing. “Damn, Holly. It’s good to talk to you.”

“Likewise.”

When we hang up, there’s still a smile on my face. I eat my lunch thinking of all the crazy things I’ve done these past six weeks.

And one memory in particular solves the problem of finding Wes.

I flag down the waitress and pull out my phone. I have an app to download.





37





Wes