Page 37

CHAPTER 37

When It Rains

LUCY

Wednesday, January 15

I ’m about to leave Atticus’s apartment for work and stop in the kitchen to fill up my travel mug with hot coffee from my brother’s carafe. It’s going to be a busy day. We have a press briefing in the afternoon to announce a new sponsor, and I need to follow up with a list of publications we’re working with to schedule features on Blizzard players.

And I got a request for a call with Winchester FC for nine thirty this morning.

All sorts of feelings swirl around inside me. I’m excited to hear what they thought of my interview. The job is perfect for me. The next step up in my marketing and PR career, in a foreign country, and no nepotism involved.

Most of the feelings are good.

When my phone rings as I’m sliding my laptop into my bag and reaching for the notebook containing my ongoing to-do list, I don’t even think about it before answering.

When it’s a split second too late, I see who’s calling.

“Dad?” I freeze with my hand on the zipper to my bag .

“Lucy, darling. I’m in town.” My dad’s authoritative voice makes my skin crawl. “Can we meet for coffee?”

He’s in town? I take my phone away from my ear and look at the time. Seven o’clock in the morning.

“When did you get here?” I put him on speaker.

“Yesterday afternoon. I had dinner with Paul Harrison. And I wanted to come see my daughter.”

He was in town yesterday but didn’t call me? Or Atticus?

“Ah. Okay. I have a busy day?—”

“Paul said there’s a lovely coffee shop called Deep Roots Cafe. He said he’s seen you there before.”

I swallow and shut my eyes tightly. I need to face him. I wish I knew what Winchester FC was going to say to me before I see my father again. I wish I had a job offer I could throw in his face.

“Have you talked to Atticus?” But I know he hasn’t. My brother would have immediately told me if he had.

“No. But I might watch the game tonight. Paul’s offered me tickets in the corporate suite.”

I roll my eyes because Atticus could have easily gotten him tickets.

“Fine. I’ll meet you at Deep Roots Cafe in fifteen minutes, okay?”

I click end. I didn’t even think to ask where he’s staying. I’m sure it’s some bougie hotel that costs a thousand dollars a night.

As soon as I walk in to the cafe, I imagine myself there with Kellen. That first meeting with our first kiss, or one of the other times we’d gone to grab a coffee. I picture meeting Bri and Ava for hot chocolate so Ava could hang out with MBM.

But then I spot my father at a table in the corner, and all the happy feelings fade away.

“Lucy, darling,” he says when I approach. Richard stands and pulls me into his arms. I let him, but keep my body stiff and only half-heartedly lean in .

“Hi, Dad.”

“Shall we get coffee?” He gestures to the line of people, and I follow him over.

“What are you doing in town?”

“Both of my children live here, do I need another excuse?”

Yeah.

“No, I guess not.” I shrug and try to smile. Maybe he is just here for a visit with no ulterior motive.

Dad orders us two large coffees with cream and sugar without asking me what I want. He doesn’t care much for what other people want. He knows what he likes and assumes everyone will agree.

I prefer a vanilla latte with oat milk. Kellen had no problem remembering that.

We settle into a table in awkward silence.

“How are things with that hockey player?”

Shit . I shake my head. “Done.”

“Right.” He nods, like it all makes sense. “Like I told you at Thanksgiving—not forever.”

My stomach twists, and I focus on not crushing the coffee cup in my hand.

“Nope. It was not forever,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Maybe you should see Ron again? The time and distance might’ve been the perfect break. Now you can start over again together.”

“No,” I say firmly. “Remember how he cheated on me incessantly? There’s no coming back from that.” I have no feelings left for Ron. Maybe when I arrived in Colorado there was some lingering desire for him, but that’s all gone now. I feel nothing for him. And it’s a damn relief.

Richard raises his eyebrows. “Be honest, darling. That thing with the hockey player was a temporary interlude. Ron’s the real deal. Same with your career at DC FC.”

“Dad.” I’m suddenly exhausted .

Richard shrugs, like he doesn’t care to argue, like he doesn’t care at all either way.

“Anyway, I might as well admit that I have an ulterior motive for being here.” He flashes his pearly whites at me.

Of course he does.

“Go on.” I wave a hand at him.

“I wanted to talk to you about a job opportunity. Like I texted you a few weeks back.”

“Dad.” I groan. “I’m not coming back to DC FC.”

“Hear me out, okay?”

I want to say no. I want to stand and walk out. But he’s my father, and he flew all the way here, and I almost always do what I’m told when it comes to him.

So instead, I nod and wait for him to continue.

“When you quit DC FC—” he pauses.

He says it as if I quit randomly and for no reason. Like I didn’t do it because I couldn’t face my ex-fiancé down the hall every day and think about how he cheated on me.

“—you were a director of marketing. I know you have ambition to do more. Be more.”

“Yes. I do. But you’ve not actually really acknowledged that before.” Annoyance in my gut turns to anger. “Whenever I’ve tried to talk to you about my career goals, you blow me off and tell me to be patient. But I’m done being patient. This is not only about Ron. This is about me wanting more. Me wanting the respect I deserve, both at home and at work.” I clench my toes in my short boots and fury boils beneath the surface of my skin.

All these years, my father just wanted to control me. He only cares about my career now because I’m no longer under his thumb. I’ve managed to slip away.

“You know I had to be careful.” He tilts his head. “It would look bad if people thought I was favoring you.”

“Right. I get that. But at some point, you were doing the opposite of favoring me. You were ignoring me. Ignoring what I wanted. And when leadership does that to an employee, they leave. That’s what happened with me.”

Richard nods and leans forward. For a second, I wonder if he’ll respond to my speech. Apologize for holding me back, controlling me, ignoring me.

“You know I deserved more at DC FC. But you just wanted to keep me under your control.”

Richard nods like he’s really thinking about what I just said. Okay. Progress. Is he really hearing me? Surely he’ll apologize, tell me how he didn’t treat me fairly.

“Lucy, I’d like to bring you back as the vice president of marketing and public relations. We’d have you hire two or three staff members, including your replacement, which we never found.”

“What?” I freeze mid-sip. My mind struggles to catch up to what my father just said. It wasn’t an apology or an acknowledgment.

It was an actual job offer.

“Mark is retiring early, and as soon as I found out, I knew I had to bring you back on for the job.” Richard leans back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself.

Holy shit. I might have known about Mark retiring early if I’d agreed to catch up with him on a phone call instead of only asking for a reference via email. My brain tries to process it all. A VP role at DC FC? Except for the fact that I’d be working for my father directly, and my ex?—

“And I’ve moved Ron to another role. Not with DC FC.” His words startle me, but I make note that he doesn’t apologize. Dad never apologizes because he thinks he’s fundamentally always right. He won’t apologize for holding me back at work. He won’t apologize for not getting rid of Ron sooner. “You won’t have to see him at work.”

Ron’s gone. Does that change anything? Everything? It almost feels like it does ?

“You moved him?” A snake of suspicion wraps itself around my ankle and slithers up my leg. “Where?”

“He’s doing a special project for me. Assessing a new venture.” Richard lifts his chin, like he knows I’m going to pick on this detail.

“Not exactly a punishment.” I narrow my eyes. “What’s the new venture?”

Richard hesitates for a beat. “I’m looking at buying a NHL team.”

“What?” I laugh bitterly and shake my head. “You didn’t move him because of me.” A sound rumbles in my throat.

“Sure, darling, of course I did.”

“You basically promoted him.” This all feels disgusting. Ron’s not really gone. Just sent away for the time being. He could appear back at any moment.

And even if Ron was permanently gone, the perceived nepotism at DC FC—would it ever go away? No matter how many promotions or raises I earn, people at DC FC will always think it’s because of who my father is. I’d have to deal with that every day. Again. Feeling like I’m not good enough for the job, even though I earned it.

“It all works out though. Now—” Richard grins and shows me his expensive smile. “—there’s no reason for you to stay away. Not anymore.”

He pauses and waits for my response, eyebrows raised. He expects me to accept on the spot. I know it.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” But I don’t want to think about it. I want to say no. And even though I finally managed to tell him how he’s made me feel at work for the past eight years, I can’t bring myself to reject his offer outright.

“Lucy. You need me. You always have.” Richard leans forward and awkwardly touches my arm. “I’ll take care of you. Better, this time.”

I don’t need someone to take care of me. Definitely not at work. I’m capable. I’m competent. And here at the Blizzard, I learned I’m more than that. I’m valued and good at my job.

Still, something holds me back from saying no.

Richard and I make awkward conversation for another five minutes, and I call Atticus the second I walk away from my father and Deep Roots Cafe.

When it rains, it pours cats and dogs. Giant stinky dogs and feral sharp-clawed cats.

I have two job offers on the table.

“That’s amazing news. Thank you so much for calling.” To me, my voice sounds strained, even though I’m trying to infuse excitement into it.

I should sound excited.

“We’re delighted to make you the offer. You are an outstanding candidate with a bright future, more than qualified to take on this role. I’ll send through that written offer, and I look forward to hearing from you in the next week or so.” Marcie Lancaster from Winchester FC reminds me of the deadline for responding and clicks off the call.

I drop my phone on the desk and lay my head on the cold, wooden surface. My stomach twists. With joy? Nerves?

Happiness, obviously.

I’m getting exactly what I wanted.

I should call someone.

My mom? She’d be so happy for me.

My father, to say no to his job offer? Now that will feel good.

My brother. He’ll be supportive. Probably find something to make fun of me for.

January and Raleigh? Yes, definitely them.

My phone buzzes with a notification from the Delightful Doggy Palace that they’ve posted a new picture of MBM. I click through and smile at the image of my dog rolled onto his back with his tongue hanging out, practically smiling at the camera. There’s another Boston terrier lying next to him.

The caption reads: New friends Hulu and Mister Barky McBarkface having fun on Hulu’s first day.

Hulu. What a silly name for a dog.

MBM has no idea I’m scheming to give him to a family he’s only met twice. No clue that I’ll leave him here in Fort Collins and never see him again.

My betrayal stings.

A week ago, I met up with both of the moms from the family interested in adopting MBM. They loved him. And at the end of the visit, they told me their daughter wanted to rename him Max.

Max .

I thought they were fucking with me, but they were completely serious. And how would they have any idea what MBM’s name history is? They explained that the little girl chose Max because of the movie Secret Life of Pets .

My dog hates that name. Despises it.

I didn’t tell the new family that. They can name my dog—their dog—whatever they want.

Obviously, I will accept the Winchester FC job. It’s my dream job, exactly what I wanted when I quit DC FC and headed to Colorado for just one season.

I can’t be chickenshit and go crawling back to my father’s soccer team, even if the title is good and the salary is more than I’ve dreamed of—he texted me a number an hour after we parted ways this morning.

Having choices is amazing. Two great job offers.

So why do I feel so bad?

But I know.

It’s Kellen.

The hockey player I inconveniently fell in love with.

I want his blue eyes fixed on me. I want his smiles, his laughter, his steady presence. I want to be invited into his inner circle of people. For real. For good.

I want him.

I love him.

But if he wanted me to stay, he would have asked. I get why he doesn’t. His top priority will always be his daughter and what’s right for his family. And no matter how much I bonded with Ava, I don’t fit in there.

Me leaving Fort Collins will make his life easier.

I’m so lost in my thoughts, I almost don’t hear the knocking on my office door.

“Lucy?”

I look up to see Bri in the doorway.

“Oh, hey,” I say, smiling. “How are you?”

“Good. I was just here dropping something off for Kellen. I thought I’d stop by to thank you for meeting me and Ava the other day for hot chocolate. She was absolutely desperate to see MBM.”

“No worries. It was fun.” I loved watching Ava wrestle with MBM and the gentle way he wiggled his body against her.

Bri stares at me.

“Actually,” I say, because the silence is too much. “I just got the England job offer.”

“Aww.” Bri’s eyebrows furrow for a split second. She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe. “Congratulations. We’ll miss you if you accept it.”

“I’m going to accept it,” I say firmly. But whether or not I’m trying to convince her or myself is unclear.

“Good for you.” But Bri’s not smiling, just watching me.

“And it’s my dream job. Exactly what I want to do. Where I want to go. It’s perfect for me.” My voice hitches on the last word. With horror, I realize my eyes are filling with tears. I swallow hard and fight like hell to keep the tears in my eyes instead of dripping down my cheeks.

“Well. Before you go, maybe you should talk to him. ”

“Him?” As if I don’t know exactly who she’s talking about.

“Kellen.” She says it slowly, stretching out his name, like she’s explaining something to her kindergartener.

“About what?” I truly don’t know. That chapter of my life is closed. Done and dusted. Completely over. “About the job?”

Bri shrugs.

“About me leaving?”

She shrugs again and cocks her head.

“About the fake dating?”

“Hmm. Was it?”

My throat tightens and warmth floods my cheeks. I bury a hand in my hair and push curls off my forehead.

“I don’t know.” I groan and shut my eyes.

“I do. And I think you do too.” Bri fishes her phone out of her pocket and looks at the screen. “I gotta run.” She lifts a hand and disappears from my doorway.

What was that about? As if I need another thing to think about.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I need to face Kellen before I leave. I don’t know what I’ll say to him. Certainly not that I love him. But maybe some closure will do me good.

I can’t wait to get out of this town. That’s the real closure I need. A plane ticket.

There’s an empty cardboard box in the corner of my office. It’s been there since I arrived in September. I grab it and start putting my few personal belongings in the box.

Obviously I don’t need to pack right now. I haven’t accepted the job and even when I do, I’ll have time to tie up all my loose ends here.

But packing up my office is a symbol for moving on. Leaving. Filling boxes is when things get real.

And things just got really real.

I have two mugs on my desk, one is a DC FC mug with the team logo on it, the other a Blizzard mug with a fierce abominable snowman pictured on one side and the saying Let’s Go on the other.

Both of them go in the box.

A picture of me and my mom and Atticus from Christmas a few years ago. Another framed picture of me, January and Raleigh, this one from this past New Year’s Eve.

My chest aches as I move it all into the box.