Page 5 of I Could Be Yours (The Toronto Terror #6)

ESSIE

Nate

I don’t have edit access to the spreadsheets, and I found an error.

Essie

No you didn’t.

Nate

I did.

Essie

Screenshot it.

I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s a bridal shower happening today, and I’m a little busy.

Nate

So am I. Give me edit access and I’ll fix it.

Essie

Say please.

Nate

Please.

Essie

In a voice memo. Three times.

Nate

*shifty eyes GIF* Why?

Essie

*bats lashes GIF*

I pocket my phone. As fun as this is, I don’t have time to pander to Nate. My tablet is in hand, checklist ready for ticking—I love a good checklist—as I survey the hall. The decorations are on point, everything looks perfect, and guests should start arriving soon.

“What can I help with?” Tally, the Toronto Terror’s head coach’s daughter and good friend to me and my younger sister Cammie, appears at my side with her friend Fee.

She’s the younger sister of Terror assistant coach Lexi Forrester.

Well, Lexi was a Forrester until she married the team’s recently retired goalie, Roman Hammerstein. Now they are both Forrest-Hammers.

“Put us both to work,” Fee insists.

“Can you two help Rix’s mom with the centerpieces, please? There should be one for every table. They come in two parts, and there is some assembly required.”

“Absolutely.” They turn toward the table behind me. “Oh! Oh my gosh! Did Rix’s mom make these?”

I nod. “Hand painted every single one.” Wooden figurines of Rix and Tristan sit on a flat wooden circle, cut from a birch tree, surrounded by mini flower wreaths.

“They are adorable,” Tally gushes.

Rix’s mom, who everyone calls Muffy, appears. She’s wearing a pretty summer dress, with hair and makeup done by yours truly, looking nervous and excited. My own mother is right behind her. She’s dressed in pants and a pale blouse, also fitting for the summer weather.

“Everything looks wonderful!” Mom pulls me in for a quick hug. “You’ve done an amazing job, honey.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I grew up in a home full of love and support. “I have two volunteers to help you and Momma Muffy with the centerpieces.”

“This is so fantastic, Essie.” Muffy is on the verge of tears, and has been for the past hour. “You really went above and beyond.”

“Rix deserves the best and more.” I kiss her cheek and turn toward our friends. “Tally and Fee, this is Muffy, Rix’s mom and Athena, my mom.”

The girls wave hello.

“Tally and Fee.” She glances between them. “Are you part of Rix’s Babe Brigade?” She looks to me for confirmation. “Isn’t that what your group of girlfriends is called?”

I grin. “That’s right.”

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” She hugs both girls, her smile wide and soft, eyes a little watery. “Rixie is surrounded by so many wonderful people.”

“She’s an amazing friend.” I give Muffy another little squeeze.

“And an incredible daughter.” Pride lights up Muffy’s face. “Always so responsible. Dinner would have been a sad affair in our house without her.”

“She could make a gourmet meal out of onions, bread, and cheese,” I agree.

And she often did when she was young. She was the only nine-year-old I knew who could make French onion soup like a pro.

Rix also had a paper route to make extra money, and Flip was forever mowing lawns in the summer, raking leaves in the fall, and shoveling snow in the winter as a side hustle.

Both of their parents worked two jobs to make ends meet and help cover the cost of hockey for Flip.

Sometimes in grade school my mom would pack an extra lunch, and I would slip it in Rix’s backpack before we went inside so we didn’t get in trouble for sharing.

Tally and Fee follow the mom’s back into the party room to set up the centerpieces.

“More food coming through! Where should I put this stuff?” Flip appears in the doorway, followed by Nate and the rest of the guys.

I refuse to acknowledge the flutter in my belly, or the way traitorous parts of my body tighten at the sight of Nate wearing black slacks, a black button-down, and a floral-printed tie—a sliver of the side of him I never get to see.

“Straight through to the kitchen,” I call, heading for the doors at the other end of the room so I can hold one open.

Rix trails behind them, wringing her hands. “I need to check all the food platters and make sure we have everything we need.”

Last night she was worried we ordered too much. Now she’s worried we don’t have enough.

“We got everything on the list, Bea. It’ll be fine.” Tristan tries to reassure her.

“I just need to double-check.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want, babe.” He looks to me like he’s unsure this is the right response.

I nod. “I’ve got this. You manage whatever you need to manage.”

He gives me two thumbs-up and heads back out, probably to bring in more food. I follow Rix into the kitchen. It’s mostly empty except for Nate, who is carefully unloading a box of artful charcuterie cones.

“Are you sure we ordered enough food?” Rix’s hands try to strangle each other.

“What about the vegan and gluten-free boards? Are they here yet? I don’t see them.

We need the vegan and gluten-free boards.

Tristan’s aunt Freida is gluten intolerant, and she doesn’t eat anything that comes from an animal. ”

“Nate, can you grab me the bottle of prosecco from the fridge and a glass, please ?” I call over my shoulder, stressing the please , to make a point.

He freezes for a moment, gaze bouncing between me and Rix. “Sure.” He sets the cones gently in their holder and crosses to the fridge.

“Some of the boards are already on the food table, so we can check to make sure,” I tell her. “But I have photographic evidence of all the boards, and the vegan and gluten free were clearly labeled and among them.”

Nate passes me the glass of prosecco. “Thank you.” I hand it to Rix and encourage her to take a sip before I turn back to Nate, who is still close enough that I can smell his cologne.

“Can you do me a favor and check the food table in the party room to make sure the boards in question are already placed?”

He nods once. “Yup. On it.”

I’m surprised and grateful he’s being so helpful. He’s detail oriented, so I trust he’ll come back with data to match the order. Also, his rear view is nice, so I don’t mind watching him walk away. I wait until he disappears through the door before I turn back to Rix.

“Have another sip.” I tap the edge of the glass.

She does. “I’m so jittery.”

“Take a deep breath. The bridal shower will kick ass.” I note the hint of shadow under her eyes. I wanted to do her makeup, but there wasn’t time. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

She bites her lips together for a moment before she answers. “Did you?”

“Yup.” Like four hours, but I plan to make up for it when I get home. “Were you stressed about the shower and stayed up running numbers?”

She glances over her shoulder before she whispers, “One of my clients was audited, and there’s a whole bunch of paperwork that needs to be handled.”

“Did you stay up all night working on it?” I ask.

“I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up until like three. Then woke up at six because I was worried about the food. I should have just made it all.”

I arch a brow.

“Okay. That would not have been a good idea, but I could have at least made the charcuterie boards and the mini crème br?lée.”

“You could have, but you’d be even more stressed than you are now.

” I encourage her to take another sip. “This comes from a place of love, okay? Maybe you should consider time off from the accounting firm and focus on just the guys from the team who already use you. Namely your brother, Tristan, and Dallas.”

“This is just a blip. It’s normally not this intense,” she argues.

“You’re getting married in a handful of weeks. Again, I say this with love, but we all want you to enjoy the process and not be stressed about work on top of everything else.”

“I really hate not having my own income,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be kept.”

This is such a deep-seated issue for Rix, and it pains me to see her so overwhelmed and on edge. But we’re not solving this problem today, so I’ll do what I can to help alleviate her tension with humor and a little encouragement.

I settle my hands on her shoulders. “Oh my sweet, sweet best friend. Tristan already asked if there’s a cucumber salad. If anyone is being kept, it’s that man.”

She barks out a laugh. “He did not.”

“He totally did. Last word on this for now, but that man wants to take care of you. We both know you don’t need taking care of, but you don’t have to keep proving it.

” I push her hair over her shoulders. “Now, we are going to have the best time this afternoon, and we’re going to play stupid games and make our aunties and moms and grandparents happy, and those boys are going to wait on us hand and foot, and it will be glorious. ”

“It will be glorious,” Rix repeats.

Nate reappears. “There are two vegan and two gluten-free charcuterie boards, and they are very clearly marked as such. I made sure with the help of Tally and Fee and some neon chalk things. I reviewed the entire spreadsheet, and everything is accounted for. And there’s also some kind of vegan meringue that is really freaking tasty, which is wild, because I thought those were made with egg whites. ”

“You can use chickpea liquid,” Rix explains.

“Huh. Well, I have a new, deep appreciation for the liquid chickpeas swim in.”

Muffy pokes her head into the kitchen. “Trixie Rixie! There you are. The cake arrived, and I thought you might want to decide where it should go.”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Rix passes me her glass of prosecco and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She links arms with her mom, and Muffy guides her out of the room.

I deflate a little and gulp her prosecco.

For a second I forget Nate is still in here. He’s staring at me, a furrow etched in his brow. He opens his mouth to speak, but I raise a hand. “Do not ask me about the spreadsheet.”

“But there?—”

“—is no error.”

“The formula?—”

“—is not wrong.”

“Why are you being so difficult?”

“I don’t know, Nathan, why am I being so difficult?”

I changed the formula so Rix wouldn’t stress about the cost after I sent the specs to Tristan, but I won’t type that in a message or say it out loud right now. I pull my compact and my lip gloss out of my purse so I have something to focus on that isn’t the delicious furrow in his brow.

“Why do you hide behind that?”

“Hide behind what?” Like I want to go out there with smudged eyeliner.

He stares at me.

I stare back, feeling increasingly unsettled by the intense way he’s looking at me.

He kissed me.

He ghosted me.

He never apologized.

He can’t stand me .

But instead of either of us walking away, we’re bickering like teenagers.

“Take your broody asshole down a notch, Nathan. Your black cloud is dimming my shine.”

I brush past him. I can’t let him get to me. Today is about Rix and celebrating her forever. I have plenty of time to fixate on why I never seem to get any closer to my own.