Page 1 of Not in the Plans (London Lightning #1)

Chapter One

OLIVIA

“ O h, no. No, no, no.”

That has to be wrong. My manager told me the filing deadline to get the Welsh player was next week. As in, five days from now. I was getting it done early so we wouldn’t have any issue.

Now the portal isn’t loading. Refreshing the screen, I’m now greeted with another message.

Trade deadline has passed.

I’m going to be sick. I still have time according to my manager, but no. No matter where I click on the screen, the same message appears.

Trade deadline has passed.

How in the world am I going to explain this tomorrow?

It’s after six, meaning I’m one of the last few people in the office. Popping up from my desk chair, I stick my head out the door. All the lights are dim.

I take that back. I’m the only person that is still here.

Meaning my mess-up can’t be dealt with tonight.

I’ve come to realize this is one of the many nuisances of working for the Elite Ice Hockey League in London .

Having just graduated from university with a business degree, this was one of the first job offers I received. Even though I knew next to nothing about ice hockey, I accepted the position.

I work hard and am one of the few people that always stays late to finish my work. Maybe if I’d left early like everyone else, I wouldn’t even know about this issue and could deal with this tomorrow.

“What am I going to do?” I groan, dropping down into my desk chair. “Think, Olivia, think.”

If I email my manager, maybe they can make a quick call to get this whole mess sorted. Or, it could mean that I get fired that much sooner.

Great. There’s another thought that flits through my head. There is no way I botch this up and keep my job.

I shove my hands through the soft curls of my light brown hair, but am met with resistance from the tight bun it’s in. A headache gathers between my eyes.

How could I have missed something so simple? I click back over to my email to see where the deadline email sits with a bright red flag.

Five days from now.

How in the world is it already closed then?

Bile rises in my throat. I can’t lose this job. It’s not like I’d have anywhere to go if I lost it. My phone buzzes from its cradle next to my keyboard.

Imogen

Livvy, you must come drink with us this evening

Sienna

Meaning, please come keep us in line

Sienna

Imogen has already had one too many cocktails and is looking like she wants to take the bartender home

Imogen

No I don’t!

Imogen

It’s the man sitting in the corner of the bar I want to take home

Sienna

Same difference, love

Imogen

Livvvvvvy! Pleaseeeee!

Grabbing my phone, I tap away an immediate answer at my two best girlfriends.

Olivia

Considering today might be my last day at work, you two are buying and will have to keep me in line for once

That gets me an immediate response.

Imogen

You’re losing your job?

Sienna

What happened?

Imogen

You’re like the best employee they have

Sienna

Seriously, we never see you

Imogen

We’re at the usual pub

Sienna

Get a cab

Sienna

We’ll see you soon

Well, if I am not going to have a job tomorrow, I might as well get pissed.

“Liv! You came!” Imogen shouts, staggering toward me.

“How much have you had to drink?” I wrap my arms around her waist so she doesn’t tumble into a nearby table.

“Only a few fingers of bourbon.”

“And some shots,” Sienna points out as I steer us back to the table.

“It’s a Thursday night. I’m allowed to drink.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” I ask, dropping into the empty seat next to her.

“Today is my Friday. No work for me.”

“Ahh. Well, that makes two of us.”

Sienna snaps for the passing waiter and orders me my usual glass of gin and ginger beer. Nothing fancy or over-the-top for me.

“Please tell us what happened.”

Sienna brushes her perfectly sleek, dark auburn hair over her shoulder. She is never not perfectly made up.

The same for Imogen, even if her blue eyes are glassy. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a low bun, secured at the nape of her neck, not a hair out of place.

My best friends are stunners.

“I missed filing the paperwork for the preseason trade deadline, and now I’ll be lucky to have a job tomorrow.”

“Wait, I thought that was next week. You’ve been talking about it for the last month, it seems,” Sienna says.

“No, I haven’t.”

I smile at the waiter as my drink is dropped off. I take a gulp, needing it to cool everything that is floating inside me. The juniper taste explodes on my taste buds.

Imogen rolls her eyes at me. “Yes, you have. You’ve been using it as an excuse for not coming out even though it’s a few clicks of a mouse.”

“See? Even we know what your job entails,” Sienna confirms. “Pretty sorry excuse to blow off your best friends.”

“I’m not blowing you off,” I huff. “I’m busy. I have work.”

“We all do, love. You make a point to stay busier than the rest of us.”

“Nothing wrong with wanting to do a good job.” My voice is indignant as I settle back in the uncomfortable high-top chair.

This is why I don’t like coming to these places. Limited seating, overpriced drinks, and too many people.

“You need to let your hair down and live a little,” Imogen tells me. Her hand grabs the clip holding my brown hair in place and lets it flow around my shoulders .

“That wasn’t necessary.” I grab the hair accessory from her and clasp it around my purse strap.

My very favorite Mulberry bag. The forest green, pebbled leather purse with the gold clasp was my treat to myself when I got this job.

The very same one I might be losing tomorrow.

“Okay, let’s say you do lose your job. Maybe tonight you do something out of the ordinary.”

“What would be out of the ordinary for me?”

“Anything,” Imogen says.

“Well, that’s quite rude,” I fire back, sipping on my drink.

Sienna waves her off. “Ignore her. She hasn’t had sex in a month, and it’s doing things to her head.”

I nearly spit out my drink. “Sienna! You cannot say things like that.”

“It’s true,” Imogen confirms.

“Nothing wrong with that.” A gleeful smile spreads across Sienna’s face. “That’s what you need to do.”

“Yes!” Imogen claps her hands. “Liv, we need to find you a man to take home this evening.”

This time, I do spit my drink out in the most unladylike of ways. “I am not taking a man home.”

“There are plenty of men in here that would be perfect for her.” Sienna ignores my protestation.

“Yes. I think a buttoned-up guy would be more her type.” Imogen points to a group of men with briefcases at their feet. “They look like nice barristers. She could probably get a decent night out of one of them.”

“Excuse me. I am sitting right here.”

“And?” Imogen flags down our server and orders another drink. I order a second round for myself with a water. “Honey, we love you, but you do need to live a little. ”

Sienna nods. “You do.”

“Why am I friends with you two?” I groan.

“Because you love us back,” Sienna confirms.

“Some days, but I do not know why.”

“I know why.” Imogen pokes me in the side. “Because the guy I’m eyeing has someone with him that is eyeing you.”

“What?”

There is no way that anyone would be eyeing me over my two friends. I’m about as plain as it gets.

With plain brown hair, blue eyes, a few freckles, and a small gap between my front teeth, I don’t think most men look twice at me.

Nothing I’m not used to, since I grew up hearing how ordinary I look.

“He is sexy ,” Sienna says. “He is eyeing you like you’re a snack.”

“He is not,” I hiss, slapping her hand away.

“Olivia. If you do not go say hi to that man, I will never speak to you again.”

Imogen halts the conversation as our drinks are replenished. I glug down a few sips of water before finishing my first drink. I’m not drunk, but just on the right side of buzzing. Two glasses is my max. I never go above that. I don’t like being a sloppy drunk.

It’s those few sips that have curiosity licking at my brain. “You’re not joking? There is someone checking me out?”

Sienna’s grin seems to take up her entire face. “Yes. At the bar over your left shoulder. With the brown hair.”

Trying my best to play coy, I spin in my seat, acting as if I’m searching for our server. It doesn’t take more than a moment until I spot the man they’re talking about.

A smile plays on his lips. His hair is a thick, dark brown mess with grey at the temples, like he’s been running his hand through it. Scruff lines his jaw. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he holds his glass up to me.

“You weren’t kidding.” I nearly come off the seat as I turn back to my friends. “Why is someone that hot looking at me?”

“Because you are gorgeous, babe,” Imogen tells me. “Do you want me to go talk to his friend so we can break the ice?”

Nerves burble up in my stomach. I have never been the forward one. Never one to make the first move.

“No,” I snap. The last thing I want is for this man—this sexy, god of a man—to think I can’t speak to him.

“Does that mean you’re going to go over and talk to him?”

I nod, taking one last fortifying sip of gin.

“Yes.” I point between the two of them as I sling my bag over my shoulder. “And just because I’m speaking to this man?—”

“A very sexy man,” Sienna interjects.

I ignore her. “Does not mean I am going home with him.”

“We’ll see about that.” Imogen waggles her perfectly waxed brows at me.

Spinning on my heel, I head towards the bar.

Towards the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

He tracks me as I approach him. The nerves turn to flames. I want to throw myself at him as I stop in front of his seat.

But I don’t. I do the sensible thing instead.

“Hello.”