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Chapter Four

WHEN LIFE HANDS YOU LEMONS…

~~Juniper~~

When life hands you lemons, make a strong drink out of them.

I will enjoy tonight’s game, despite losing my job earlier today. It’s going to be difficult but not impossible given my penchant for sweeping my problems under the rug and denying they exist. Only unemployment might be harder to ignore, considering I was already behind on my bills before.

Getting shit-faced on the free booze in the WAGs suite sounds more and more appealing. I tap my booted foot on the concrete floor as I stand outside the bathroom waiting for Caro. She’s eight and a half months pregnant and swears she spends the majority of her time in the bathroom. I have no idea what pregnancy feels like, but she looks miserable while glowing at the same time. Not sure how that comes about.

“Julia, how are you?”

At the sound of that syrupy sweet voice, I whip around to confront Celeste. “It’s Juniper.” I literally snarl at her.

“Oh, sorry. It’s such an odd name, I forget.” Her smug smile indicates I’m playing right into her hands by letting her get under my skin. After all, she has him, and I don’t. I can’t show it matters.

“That’s fine, Celly.” I lift my chin and regard her with disdain, and I am rewarded with her deep scowl.

“You might want to do something with that hair and makeup before you go out in public.” Her tone drips with insincerity. I itch to rip out her blond hair by its dark roots.

I ignore her insult and lob one of my own. “What’re you doing on this floor, since you’ve been banned from the WAGs suite?” Several games ago Celeste and her two evil friends had been rude to the suite staff. The captain’s wife, Avery, saw to it that they were banned from the suite.

“There’re other suites available. Maybe one of the guys cares so much for me than he’s rented a private suite for me and my friends.”

“Speaking of your coven, where are they?”

“Fuck you.” She curls her lip into a sneer, and I merely smile sweetly, hoping to project the impression she’s of no consequence to me. As if on cue, Caro waddles out of the bathroom, holding her hand protectively over her protruding stomach as she’s been doing for a few weeks now. She casts a scathing glance at Celeste before snubbing her.

“Sorry I took so long. Ready?” Caro asks with mock cheerfulness.

“Absolutely. I need a drink.” We walk off together arm in arm. I feel those daggers shooting into my back and can’t stop myself from laughing. Caro joins in even though she has no idea why.

Once we’re out of earshot and in the suite, she turns toward me. “What was that all about? Celeste had her claws out.”

“Same old, same old.” I step up to the suite bar and order a couple shots of tequila. Caro orders water. We’re early, and the only ones currently in the suite.

“She’s a bitch. I’ll never understand what the guys see in her.”

“Really?” I cock a brow, and Caro snorts.

“Okay, maybe I do see.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious.”

“But none of them have stuck with her very long. They move on pretty quickly. She’s like a shark circling for its next victim.”

“Shark aptly describes her and her coven.” I glance over my shoulder as if expecting Celeste to be right there. Of course, she isn’t. “Right about now, I wish I was a gold digger.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Caro takes the ice water from the bartender and gingerly walks down the set of steps to the front row of plush seats and sits down carefully. I make a mental note never to get pregnant. I follow her but need a glass of wine to drink away my sorrows tonight.

Much to my badass horror, I sniffle, then a couple tears slide down my cheeks. Caro’s mouth drops open in shock. I rarely cry, no matter how bad it gets. Even when my ex-husband beat the crap out of me on more than one occasion I never cried. Caro puts her arm around my shoulders, her eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong? Is it Levi or Celeste?”

“No,” I blubber as the tears run more freely. I’m certain they’re streaking my makeup. Caro hands me a napkin. “Though they aren’t helping matters any.”

“What? What is it?” The alarm in Caro’s voice jerks me from the edge of despair. I don’t want to upset her in her fragile condition.

“I was fired this morning.”

“What?” Caro’s shock turns to righteous anger. She’s my ride-or-die friend. “What the fuck? How dare they?”

“Yeah, by the very asshole I complained to upper management about. They took his side.” Bitterness creeps into my voice, and I don’t care. I can be me with Caro.

“Oh, Junie, I’m so sorry. So very sorry. That’s awful. What can I do to help?”

“You’re doing it. You’re offering a shoulder to cry on.” I pull a compact from my purse and check the mirror before wiping at my eyes.

“I’d love to do more.”

“You have enough on your hands with Easton, the twins, and a baby on board. I’ll land on my feet. I always do. Besides, I hated that job. They did me a favor.”

Caro studies me with skepticism. I might’ve hated the job, but it was money. Avery surprises us by sitting next to me. I hadn’t noticed she’d entered the suite. I glance around hoping no one else witnessed my outburst. WAGs are trickling in, but none of them are close enough.

“Sorry to eavesdrop, but did I hear correctly? Are you looking for a job?” Avery’s watching me so intently, I squirm in my seat.

“Yes.” I admit to the truth. What else can a girl do?

“I might know of something.”

“Really? What?” I sniffle, feeling hope for the first time since this morning.

“You’re an incredible cook. I still gush about that lasagna you made for our WAGs party a few months ago and the beef Wellington you made last year. Everything you’ve cooked has been to die for.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure where this is going, but being a short-order cook isn’t anything I’m interested in, yet perhaps I shouldn’t be so picky at this point. Jobs with benefits for someone with my limited skill set aren’t easy to come by.

“The team chef was fired this morning. The guys aren’t happy with the caterer, and management is scrambling to find a new chef.”

“Really?” My brain races ahead as I consider the pluses and minuses and whether or not I could do the job.

“Yes. It’s your chance to get your foot in the door,” Caro adds.

“I could do it.” I express with confidence I don’t feel. “I may not be professionally trained, but I’m a good cook?—”

“Incredible cook,” interrupts Caro, my biggest cheerleader.

“I’ve worked in the restaurant field, so I have some experience.”

“You’re perfect for the job. Even better, you’re ready to start now. Let me get a hold of Rose and tell her.” Rose is the team’s facilities manager. Avery doesn’t wait for an answer and starts madly texting. I’m not perfect for the job, but they’re hiring last minute, which makes me perfect in other ways since I’m available.

“Junie’s going to be the new team chef!” Cin appears behind us, and I groan. Within seconds half of the WAGs are gathered around putting in their two cents about how the guys are complaining about the food tonight, and they’ll be excited to hear I’m hired.

I keep downplaying my abilities, but this group of women steamroll right over me.

“Can you start first thing tomorrow morning, about six a.m.?” Avery looks up expectantly.

“Of course she can.” Caro ignores my annoyed glare and answers for me.

“Perfect. I’ll let her know.”

The group chants choruses of “welcome to the Sockeyes family,” and I sit back, overwhelmed and confused. What am I doing? I’m not a chef. I’m a good cook, but not the kind of cook they need. My restaurant experience is at a fast-food place in my teens and waitressing after I left my ex-husband.

“Maybe I should think about it.” I raise my voice to be heard over the excited voices of the WAGs.

“You’re looking for a job, right? They’ll pay you a bonus.” Avery holds up the phone so I can read the bonus amount in the text message from Rose.

“Really?” I perk up. This job gets harder and harder to turn down.

“Yes, on day one. You get to keep it, even if you don’t stay or if the team loses tonight.”

“I’m very interested.” I’m ready to prove myself. The bonus will get me out of debt. I can do this. I know I can.

Avery texts furiously, and the response is immediate. “Rose says she’ll hire you until the end of the season and revisit then.”

“It’s a deal.” Caro answers once again for me. The two women fist-bump, and my brain races ahead as I make plans. I’ll have to hit the ground running tomorrow, assuming we win. If not, there’s really not a need, though as I recall, the former chef worked year-round. He planned and performed other duties during the off-season.

Worst-case scenario is that the team loses tonight, but I still get to keep the bonus. Or we make it to the finals, and I have a couple months of work.

The promise of a job and a bonus lifts the weight off my shoulders, despite my concern regarding my qualifications and experience. I’ll prove myself. I always have. This job won’t be any different from all the others with one exception. I truly love to cook and create culinary masterpieces. I’d actually considered culinary school at one time, but my marriage to a controlling bastard got in the way.

This’ll be fun. A new adventure. A great opportunity. A chance to change directions in my life.

I’m thrilled until reality hits me like a punch to the gut. I’ll be forced to see Levi almost every day when the team is playing at home.

Unless we lose tonight, and the season is over. Despite the pain of being forced to be around Levi, I don’t want the Sockeyes to lose. I want them to go all the way and hoist the Cup.