Page 13

Seven

“This is so awesome,” Finn announced as they took in the arena from the bird’s-eye vantage point of the owner’s suite.

Sheridan had to admit to being a little in awe herself. She’d been to several of Jamie’s games when he played in Boston. The players always had decent seats to gift out to family, but she’d never once been invited to watch the game from a suite. Much less one belonging to the team’s owner.

And then there was the Mayhem’s owner, a man much younger than Sheridan expected.

Wearing an Armani suit and a Jacob and Co watch that probably cost more than Alek’s house, Max Kellogg looked like he’d stepped out of a meeting on Wall Street rather than a man about to attend a weekend hockey game.

He greeted her and Finn with genuine interest, but she got the sense that he was also taking in the nuances of the conversations all around while he was talking to them.

“You are welcome to watch the game from up here,” he offered.

Finn’s smile faded before he remembered his manners. “Thank you.”

Kellogg’s lips twitched. “But something tells me that sitting among a bunch of stuffy grownups”—he gave Sheridan a little bow— “present company excluded, doesn’t compare to watching the game from along the boards. Even with unlimited free food.”

“I kinda wanted to sit with Gunner,” Finn replied.

“Smart young man.” He winked at him and lowered his voice conspiratorially.

“I wouldn’t stay up here either if I had the choice.

But someone has to entertain the sponsors.

” He gave them a “what are you going to do shrug” before breaking out a sincere smile.

“Enjoy the game, both of you. And welcome to the Mayhem family.”

“Thank you, sir.” Finn was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to make his escape.

Lori materialized at Kellogg’s shoulder. “I’ll take you down to the family room.”

“Thank you both,” Sheridan said. “But we can go find our seats.”

“Nonsense.” Kellogg said. “Our family room is one of the nicest in the league. Most of the entertainers who perform at the arena use it, too, and they give it high marks.”

There was no mistaking the pride in the man’s voice. This was a guy who liked the best of everything but who was generous enough not to keep it all to himself. Sheridan instantly admired that about him.

Lori ushered them to the elevator. “You’ll want to grab something to eat before the face-off. There’s an extensive buffet, but if you don’t see anything you want, one of the team’s personal chefs will whip you up something.” She grinned at Sheridan. “Within reason.”

“Wow,” Sheridan replied. She’d never been invited to the family room in Boston. That was Madison’s domain. Her sister-in-law had always insisted that Sheridan and Finn spend game nights at home to avoid messing up the baby’s schedule.

“And you’ll get to meet all the WAGs and their families,” Lori added.

That was the part Sheridan dreaded.

They took the elevator down to the lowest level. It opened to a large, airy room despite being below ground. They were greeted by the chatter of women and children seated around several tables, eating, drinking, and seeming to enjoy themselves.

“Did you bring your skates, Finn?” Lori asked. “The kids’ rink is right through that door.”

Sure enough, on the other side of the glass wall was a scaled-down hockey rink, complete with a regulation goal. Several boys and girls were racing around it. They were all trying to shoot a soft puck into the net.

“Gunner has my skates.” Finn aimed a pleading look at Sheridan. “Please can I skate for a few minutes before the game? I promise to eat something at intermission.”

“Something more than popcorn?” she asked as though she was even considering denying the kid anything.

He held up his pinkie. Sheridan wrapped hers around it, and they shook. “Don’t forget a helmet,” she called after him.

“Looks like he’s adjusting well,” Lori said.

Sheridan sighed. “As long as he doesn’t get used to all of this. Our stay in Milwaukee is only for the season.”

“I see,” the other woman said. “Well, it will make for some great memories.”

For one of them, perhaps.

“Oh, you’re finally here!” a woman cried out from the far end of the room. “Yay-uh!”

Everyone turned to look at Sheridan as the tall blonde woman navigated around the tables to join her.

“That’s Sloane,” Lori murmured. “She’s with Valentine.”

Claire sidled up to Sheridan’s elbow. “She’s a lot to take at first,” Claire said with a soft laugh. “But she’s harmless.”

Sheridan suddenly found herself wrapped in Sloane’s arms. After getting over her confusion and embarrassment, her first thought was to ask the other woman what scent she was wearing because she smelled ah-mazing .

“Oh, I hate everything that you have been through.” Sloane took a step back but left her hands braced on Sheridan’s shoulders.

The woman was tall. At least five foot ten. The platform sneakers she wore made her appear even taller. She was also stunning. And vaguely familiar.

Holy snot.

Sheridan suddenly realized where she knew Sloane from. The woman standing before her was a social media sensation, advising millions of women on what to wear, and how to do their hair and makeup, among other things. None of which Sheridan could master.

“But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” Sloane shimmied her shoulders up and down as she let out a little squeal. “And you’re going to have so much fun with us. But first, let’s get you dressed.”

“Dressed?” Sheridan was so caught off guard, she allowed Sloane to drag her by the hand to one of the tables in the back.

A petite woman with short red hair and glasses smiled as they went past. “Don’t fight it, honey,” she said, her accent distinctly Nordic. “She’s a force of nature.”

“See how gorgeous Ingrid is in her jersey?” Sloane gestured to the woman.

Ingrid stood and did a little pirouette. Her jersey was more like a dress that she’d paired with cute purple boots. Her glasses were embellished with the Mayhem M.

All the WAGs were sporting their significant other’s jersey, Sheridan realized.

Not only the kids. Claire had paired her husband’s with cream-colored skinny jeans and open-toed wedge sandals.

Another WAG had cropped her jersey and added contrasting fringe.

She wore it with wide-leg jeans and platform sneakers.

Sheridan looked down at the Mayhem sweatshirt she’d picked up at the big box store earlier that day when she and Finn were out grabbing dog food. On closer inspection, the purple wasn’t even the same shade as the color the Mayhem wore.

“Don’t worry,” Sloane said. “I have something that is going to look great on you.”

She reached for a duffel bag and pulled out a jersey that looked like it had been lengthened to mid-thigh, similar to the one Ingrid had on.

“I brought options, but I think this would look so cute with your tennis shoes.” Sloane held it out to her. “There’s a bathroom over there. Go try it on. We’ll zhuzh up your hair when you get back.”

Sheridan froze. The dress was made from one of Alek’s jerseys.

“I can’t wear that.”

Sloane snapped her fingers. “I see the problem.” She reached back into her duffel and pulled out a baggie containing a razor and some shaving cream. “My sponsors keep me well stocked, and I love it when I get to share. The sink is pretty large in there.”

“It’s not that,” Sheridan protested. Although, she couldn’t remember whether she had shaved her legs that morning. Or the day before. “I can’t wear Alek’s jersey.”

“You have to. All the other guys are taken. Well, except for Zach.” Sloane rolled her eyes. “But everyone knows he doesn’t date women here in town.”

Sheridan could feel the cheap sweatshirt beginning to stick to her back. “That’s my point. If I wear this out there, everyone will think Alek and I are together. And we’re not.”

The chatter in the room quieted. A short, heavy-set woman who looked out of place among the chic WAGS flicked her long blonde braid over her shoulder as she wandered over. Three little girls ranging in age waddled in a line behind her.

“Maybe not together like that.” Her accent was more pronounced than Ingrid’s.

“But you are a little family now, yes? And that’s all that matters.

Who cares what anyone else thinks?” She gestured to the jersey that hung to the knees of the black girlfriend jeans she wore with black booties.

“Just like us, you are here to support the team. A sister cheering on her brother.”

Way to bring me back to the earth.

Did everyone see her as Alek’s little sister?

Claire looked like she was going to interject. Sheridan shook her head with a smile. There was no point. These women were only being nice. And this was Alek’s world. Given everything he was doing for her and Finn, the least she could do was try to fit in.

Resigned, she pasted on a smile and took the jersey from Sloane, grabbing the razor just in case.

Sloane wiggled her shoulders again as she clapped her hands. “I knew you wouldn’t say no.” She winked at Sheridan. “And think how jealous all the other women are going to be. There’s never been a WAG who has worn his jersey before.”

Great. Just great.

Forty-five minutes later, the WAGs had taken their seats in the stadium. Sheridan managed to talk Sloane out of a full-face makeover, but the trade-off was a bright lipstick shade that she hadn’t dared to wear since high school. Finn had taken one look at her and announced she looked “fresh.”

“What does that even mean?” she’d asked Claire.

Claire laughed. “It’s the word du jour in the second grade. From what I gather, it’s a good thing, though.”