Page 17

Chapter 16

Keelan

Unknown

Is this Keelan Landry?

Me

Who wants to know?

M y phone rings in my hand. The same number. I silence the call and slip it back into my pocket.

"Perfect," Jenny's voice says from behind the photographer. "Now, O'Connor—maybe you can turn a little to the right so we can get a better view of your… assets."

Zane rolls his eyes but does as she says. He hates pictures. Especially shirtless ones where a team of people assigned to constantly drench him in oil keep retouching him.

The photographer, who isn't my sister, moves every which way, trying to capture the best angle of our defenseman standing next to the Rhinos’ defensive player.

Jenny looks over at me.

"What? You think it's dumb, don't you?"

"No. No, it's… different."

She turns her head every which way.

"I think it'll work. The key is to show fans that they can love more than one team. It'll help expand the Heatwave reach while showing we're tough, but we can play nice."

Zane rolls his head back, annoyed when the photographer stops snapping photos to check his camera and the oil guy returns.

"How about you just give me the bottle, and I'll do it myself," Zane barks.

"Uh, then you'll have oil on your hands. That's why it's my job," the young assistant explains.

"Right," Zane says, giving me a look that screams for help.

I step up to the oil intern. "Tell you what, how about I do the oiling so you can focus on something less mundane."

I take the bottle from him, and he doesn't fight me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket again. And I reach in to silence it.

"Oil on ice seems like a dangerous mix." Rina's voice says at the entrance of the rink.

Jenny looks back at her. "Rina! Glad you could finally join us."

Yeah, so glad. Rina hasn't spoken a word to me since last night, which would be totally fine except that she blew me off earlier for some alone time with her ex—so yeah. Not sure what to make of that.

"I just need to talk to Landry," she announces.

"I'm a little busy at the moment," I say, squeezing a little too much oil on Zane and rubbing it onto his back.

"I have oil in my ass crack. Please, leave with Rina," Zane insists. "You're fired."

"It's fine. I'm sure the boys could use a break," Jenny says. "We're trying to get as many shoots in as we can. This calendar needs to be out to print within a week if we're going to make it in time for the Christmas push."

"We had the calendar ready for the Christmas push," Rina says. "You just decided it wasn't good enough."

Jenny smiles. "It was good enough. But now, it'll be great."

Rina smiles back at her. "Of course, it will be."

I hate this passive-aggressive animosity. It makes me uncomfortable.

"If you ladies like, I can bring back the Sumo suits," I joke.

They both look at me, unamused.

"In my office, Landry," Rina turns on her heel, expecting me to follow her like a little puppy.

I turn to Zane. "You sure you don't want me to stay."

Zane crosses his hands over his chest. A wall of muscle. "Please, go."

"Your loss." I follow Rina into the hall just outside the arena that leads to the staff offices.

"So," I begin.

She looks back at me.

"Are we going to talk about what happened last night, or are we going to pretend that you didn't come all over my face and hands?"

Rina stops. Her shoulders hiked up to her ears.

"No, we are not going to talk about that," she says.

My phone rings again—the unknown number. I should just answer it and get them off my back already, but the Rina situation is much more pressing.

"Your ex still around?"

She reaches for the knob on her door and opens it. "Yes. And I need to discuss something with you both. He's inside."

I point to the door of her office.

"In there? In your office?"

She nods. "Play nice."

"Oh, I'm gonna play nice," I say, brushing past her.

When I burst through the door, I spot Redmond at the bookcase in the corner, looking at a picture of Rina in her college graduation cap and gown—the school she chose to graduate from instead of staying at the same campus as Ryker, Jenny, and I.

"Redmond!" I say cheerfully, arms outstretched.

He looks at me, confused. "Landry. Good to see you, mate."

"And so good to see you, mate!" I say, jokingly attempting to match his sexy accent.

We both turn to look at Rina. "Um… ok. Look, I'm going to make this quick. To build off Jenny's sportsmanship campaign. We're going to do a few public appearances with you two as the frontrunners.”

"What's that mean?"

"It means you'll need to behave. No more gut checks and face high fives," she explains.

I look at Redmond, whose black eye still sports a slight greenish-yellow tone, though it's mostly healed. I was proud of that hit.

"Sorry, mate," I say to him.

His eyes flit to me then back to Rina like he knows something that I don't know.

"Ok, so what do you want us to do? Serve at the soup kitchen in cute aprons and chef's hats? Plant a community garden?" I ask, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of Rina's desk and resting my head against my hands interlocked behind it.

She crosses the room and leans back against it, facing me.

"You'll need to go on a double date," Rina says blankly.

"Ex-squeeze me?" I say, dropping my arms.

Redmond now comes up next to her and throws an arm around her shoulders. She slides out from under him and sits in the chair behind her desk.

I'm still staring at Redmond's arm, wondering how and when I'll get the chance to break it for touching her.

"Yes, you'll bring your girlfriend. And the four of us will have dinner at Velvet + Vine downtown."

Girlfriend? My girlfriend. The one I don't have.

I squint at her, trying to get a read of this situation. "My girlfriend?"

"Yes," she says, eyes flitting toward Redmond. "Since she'll be in town tonight—we can go eat after the game. I've already made the reservations."

"Alright, then," Redmond says, checking his phone. "Sounds like a date. I gotta run now. That's my agent."

He answers the call before even leaving the room but quickly disappears into the hall, leaving Rina and I to stare at each other.

"What the actual fuck is happening?"

Rina crosses the room and closes the door. Then she turns back to look at me.

"I've spoken to Zara Blaise's people, and she needs to distance herself from some bad publicity. They've agreed to work with you."

I rub my jaw, "Zara Blaise… as in the international pop star?"

"Yeah," she says.

When I look at her like I don't speak English, she adds. "You signed off on the plan, Keelan. Don't make this hard."

I let out a short, derisive chuckle. "I'm sorry, how did me agreeing to date someone turn into the four of us merrily breaking bread together?"

"It's for the cameras. You know how these things work. Zara knows, too."

"Ok, that's all fine and dandy, but why are you agreeing to have dinner with Redmond?"

"Because… if I agree to give this marriage a try, Redmond will drop the freeze on our accounts, and we'll go back to how we were going to proceed with this divorce. Quietly and amicably."

"He's blackmailing you, Rina. You don't see that?"

She stops me. "This is a win-win for everyone. You being seen with Zara while having dinner with Redmond will take all the heat off your little viral fight and show the fans that you guys have moved on."

My foot is bouncing aggressively at my side. And I reach into my pocket, on instinct.

When I don't find what I'm looking for, I tap my finger against my thigh.

Rina watches my every move. "Looking for something?"

"Forget it."

She rounds the corner to her desk and opens a drawer, reaching in and tossing me a red lollipop. I glance at it just sitting there in my lap and look up to meet her eyes.

"You have to trust me, okay?"

My eyes trail down the curve of her pantsuit. She looks powerful, professional, and in control. And what I want more than anything is to shatter that control of hers.

I get up, unwrapping the lollipop as I move in. "Okay, Your Majesty. I'll play the game." I lift the lollipop and drag it over her perfectly pouty lips. Then I lean in and lick the taste of it from them. "But I'll be thinking of the taste of you on my tongue the entire time."

I watch that vein in her neck pulse and feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction seeing it.