Page 7

CHAPTER 7

Abs for Days

LUCY

Monday, September 23

I stare at the email in my inbox, my cheeks high with a smile. I was hoping to hear back quickly from Friday’s phone interview with Winchester FC, but first thing Monday morning—so the afternoon in England—was even faster than I imagined.

To: Lucy Knox

From: Marcie Lancaster, Winchester FC HR

Date: Monday, 23 September

Subject: Congratulations & Next Steps

Dear Lucy,

We were all very impressed with your phone interview on Friday. We’d love to move you on to the next stage of the process for senior director of marketing and public relations for Winchester Football Club located in Winchester, England.

The next step is a video interview in November. I will send you a list of dates and times to see if any work for you. If you progress after that interview, we’ll ask for references and schedule you for an in-person interview in January. The job will start on or before 05 May 2025.

I squeal and read the rest of the email, the blood pumping through my veins. I so want to do this on my own. I do not want to use my father or my old boss at DC FC as a reference, but after eight years there, I don’t have much choice.

That’s why I’m here.

I want to prove to myself—and Winchester FC—that I’m the best person for this job. That’s why I have to kick ass at this job for the Blizzard.

After starting at DC FC, I got promoted to manager within a year and director a few years after that. But with each promotion, I got the side eye from coworkers who assumed I was moving up because of my father. I’d been so frustrated to be stuck in the same job with the same responsibilities for the past five years. Richard kept telling me to be patient, that he’d give me progressive work soon.

I started to think my father was holding me back on purpose. To keep control of me.

But my coworkers had made a fair assumption. My father had helped me with so many things in my life.

In high school, I’d made the top team at a big youth soccer club but sat on the bench for most of the games. I preferred to be on the sidelines cheering anyway, or the admin offices working, or even helping coach the local elementary school kids.

I’m sick of my father assuming he knows what’s best for me. I’m thirty-three years old, and I’m done with men trying to control me.

But when I got a text from Ron this morning, it really threw me. We haven’t spoken since he dropped off that box of stuff .

And Taco.

Ron

Hey. Can I call you sometime today?

I ignored the shit out of that text. What could he possibly want to talk to me about? At first I was hurt that he’d not reached out after we broke up. But then I realized it was a blessing that he was just going to let me get on with my life without him.

Something that wouldn’t have been possible if he’d been down the hall at work.

I gather up my laptop and notebook so I can head to Lina for our one-to-one, then pause at the door to my office to take a few deep breaths.

Each morning since last week’s locker room incident, I have to pep talk myself into coming into work.

The humiliation of walking into a locker room full of half-dressed hockey players.

The laughter of the entire team.

The bare asses. Lachlan’s ass, Atticus informed me.

Kellen Bassey in a towel.

I wave my hand at my face to cool down from just the thought of it. Those broad shoulders, moisture covering ripped abdomen muscles, the V leading down into the towel, hooked criminally low on his hips. Barely staying on. One sneeze could’ve caused it to fall completely off and then I would’ve seen everything.

Everything.

I grip the doorframe of my office.

I’ve been officially broken up with Ron for three months. Three months since I picked up his phone and discovered a text chain with another woman. Then I scrolled down and found another from several months back. And another.

He didn’t try to deny it, just broke down and begged my forgiveness. He told me he’d get help. He admitted he had a problem. And if it had been just once, maybe I would have considered. But he’d been cheating on me the whole time, when we were happy, in love, laughing, sleeping together. When he’d proposed.

I don’t know what I missed. How can I trust my gut when it was so wrong about Ron? I don’t think he’d been faking with me, but apparently I wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

I broke up with him and told him not to contact me again.

But now he has.

Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll go away.

I knock on Lina’s door, and she waves me in.

“Hey! How’s it going? Feeling okay after…” she waves her hand vaguely to her door.

“After what?” I pretend to look confused. “Oh, the locker room thing?” I shrug and make a face that I hope conveys nonchalance. “I haven’t even thought of it since it happened.” I sink down into one of the hard-backed chairs in front of her desk.

“Excellent.” Lina presses her lips together, but her eyes crinkle slightly. “I wouldn’t want you feeling awkward around the players.”

“Never,” I say, but my voice betrays me with a tiny squeak at the end. Lina pretends not to notice.

“Alright, let’s go over your projects.” Lina taps her mouse a few times. “Where do you want to start?”

I give Lina a status update on the work I’d picked up from Fiona and some new ideas for pieces to pitch to publications.

“I think Kellen would be great for that idea, Lucy.”

She looks at me expectantly, so I glance down at the document open on my laptop and type Kellen next to the piece I just pitched to Lina. My brain stutters a bit, and I mentally get sucked back into that locker room.

“Lucy? You okay?”

“What?” I snap my head up. “Yes, of course. Sure, Kellen’s a great fit considering he’s the captain.”

“He’s good with interviews but prefers the questions vetted ahead of time. His private life is mostly off-limits. ”

“Okay.”

“There was a whole incident last year with pictures of his daughter that some hockey gossip site picked up.”

A daughter? Did I know that?

“Got it. Is he married?” The bottom of my stomach drops out at the idea of there being a Mrs. Kellen Bassey.

“Nope.”

Kellen, a single dad who’s protective of his little girl. I bite my bottom lip. Why does that make him even more attractive?

“Oh, and Lachlan will be a good fit for your first idea. Journalists love his accent.”

“Does he need media training?” I ask.

“A quick review won’t hurt, but keep your pants on.”

I burst out laughing. “I will. I’m not into hockey players.”

Lina gives me a funny look.

“What?”

“Lucy, everyone’s into hockey players.” She looks at me over the top of her glasses. “But remember that the official team policy is that players and staffers shouldn’t date, and if they do, they need to disclose the relationship to HR right away.”

I laugh. “That won’t be a problem. I promise.”

When I leave her office thirty minutes later, there’s a string of texts from Raleigh and January. The first one is a picture of some of the Blizzard players taken from a charity calendar. They’re all standing in front of a snowy mountain with their shirts off. I jolt to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

Holy hell . My eyes roam over their bare chests until I find Kellen.

January

Honestly, you need to hit some of that while you’re in Colorado. Bang the breakup out of your system

Raleigh

January, you leave her alone. That’s the last thing she needs

January

The last thing? Look at the one named Harley. Second from right in the back row

Raleigh

January

Oh, and the one with the man bun. Smoking. Babes, maybe you need to bang your divorce out as well

Raleigh

I’m not even officially divorced yet. Let’s focus on Lucy

January

Lulu? You there? Pick one of those guys. Not your brother, obviously. Atticus is looking pretty hot these days though

Raleigh

Gross

January

There is no way you really think Lucy’s brother is gross in that picture

Raleigh

He will never not be that annoying freshman kid

January

Bullshit. LOOK AT HIM

Finally caught up on the messages, I crack up as I slide back behind my own desk.

Me

Get your asses over here and maybe we can all bang it out with some hockey players

January

YES LUCY

Me

Janny! I’m kidding. I’m a professional woman, plus there are HR rules

I flip my phone over and bite back a smile.

We can laugh about it all we want, but I need to keep it professional while I’m here. I can’t let hot hockey players distract me.

Even ones with abs for days.

My phone vibrates again, and I flip it over with a grin.

It’s Ron. Calling.

A string of thoughts flies through my mind.

I should ignore the call he has no right to call me no reason that I need to answer what if it’s important ? —

Or I could take the call and get it over with. Something tells me he’s not going to leave a voicemail or let this go.

And even if he does, there’s no way I’ll call him back later.

“Hello.” My voice is tight, and my shoulders bunch up around my neck.

“Lucy?”

“Yeah.” I squeeze my eyes shut. His voice feels half like coming home and half like stepping on a stray thumbtack. “Why are you calling me, Ron?”

There’s a brief silence.

“I wanted to check in on you. And… Max. See how things are going in Colorado.” He pauses. “I miss you, Lucy.”

My stomach twists at the tenderness in his voice. He has no right. I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. I won’t let him suck me in again .

“Things are great here.” If he thinks I’m going to chit-chat with him about my life, he’s mistaken.

There’s a silence as he presumably waits for more.

“Listen, Lucy. Richard—sorry, your father—talked to Paul Harrison, the Blizzard team owner.”

“I know who Paul Harrison is. And I know Richard is my father.”

I can’t believe I came all the way out here, and I have the Blizzard team owner looking over my shoulder and reporting back to my father, who’s reporting back to Ron. I knew about Paul and my father’s connection before I got here, I just didn’t really think through the implications of that connection.

“Richard is worried about you. I am too. We all know that the farthest you’ve ever lived from D.C. is two hours away for college.”

“Neither of you need to worry about me.” My insides twist. “I’m a fully grown adult. And it’s none of your business what I’m up to.” I hate how defensive I sound.

“How’s Max?”

“Who?” It takes a second for his question to register.

“I’m sorry about dumping him with you. I kinda hoped you’d invite me in, and we could’ve talked about things?—”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” That’s what he apologizes for? Dumping his dumb dog on me? What about cheating and lying and completely betraying me?

“Your father wants you to come back to DC FC. And I… I’d love for us to have another chance.” He stops and sighs. “I miss us .”

I hate how sincere he sounds. Like the Ron I fell in love with, the one I said yes to.

“The us that you were cheating on the entire two years of our relationship?” I summon the fury he deserves and let it smash whatever fond feelings are crawling out from where I’d buried them.

“I know. I’m sorry. ”

“I don’t want to come back. To DC FC or to you.”

“Lucy—”

“And it’s Taco, not Max.”

I can’t stop the tears from running down my cheeks. I thought I was over this. Over him. But hearing his voice again makes me remember the way I felt at the end. Discarded. Not good enough. Alone.

I click off before he can respond.