Page 11

ELEVEN

lauren

When I return home after the shelter photo shoot, my sister is waiting on the steps leading up to my apartment.

“There you are,” she says, glancing up from her phone with relief. “I was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten. Did you get my text?”

“Yep, but I was in the middle of a photo shoot,” I say, scrambling for an explanation. “Sorry, I completely lost track of time.”

Olivia grabs her bag from the floor. “You know the only time I have five minutes to even form a coherent thought is when I drop my kids off at preschool.”

My nephew and niece, who are four and five, are adorable little tornadoes of tumult.

I love being their fun aunt, but let’s be real—they’re tiny terrors.

Preschool is Olivia’s one chance to drink a hot cup of coffee and have an adult conversation that doesn’t involve negotiating with a toddler over why Goldfish crackers aren’t an acceptable breakfast.

“I thought you had it on your calendar?” she says.

I skim over my schedule, and sure enough, buried under a mountain of meetings, content approvals, and social media strategies, there it is: Coffee with Liv to plan the reunion.

“Oh. Right,” I say. “Totally had it on my calendar.” It’s not like me to forget meetings. But something about watching Tate with those puppies made me lose track of everything else. A fact I’m definitely not sharing with my sister.

Olivia hands me the coffee she ordered for me. Our lives have taken completely different paths—my sister, the devoted mom juggling nap schedules and snack preferences, and me, the career-driven PR strategist.

“So, what’s the Crushers’ PR genius working on now?” she says, walking into my apartment. “Shirtless hockey guys?”

I laugh. “No, actually—puppies.”

Olivia gives me a sideways glance. “Puppies?”

I nod, flipping my phone around.

She squints at the screen. “Wait. Is that… Tate ?”

“Yep,” I confirm.

Olivia looks at my screen again. “Okay, but look at that puppy. So cute. No wonder you went out with him. And now you’re looking at puppies together? I thought you were never dating an athlete again.” She flops onto my couch.

I sit in an armchair opposite her. “First of all, no one was looking at puppies together . It was a PR shoot. For work.”

“So you’re not dating him?” She lifts an eyebrow when I hesitate. “Because I distinctly remember someone giving me a speech about ‘never again getting involved with athletes’ after the last disaster. Something about, and I quote, ‘learning from my mistakes.’”

I press my lips together, remembering the way I spun the story about those online pictures to avoid the family reunion. “It’s…complicated,” I finally say.

“Complicated,” she repeats. “So you ARE dating him. I knew it! This must be getting serious.”

“A few dates hardly qualifies as serious,” I say, looking away from my sister and steering the subject away from my fictional relationship. “And if you know anyone looking for a puppy, I can hook them up.”

Olivia snorts before taking a sip. “I definitely do not need a puppy. My kids are already a full-time job. You, on the other hand…” She turns to me with a knowing smirk. “First a boyfriend, now maybe a dog? Look at you, finally settling down.”

“Oh no,” I warn. “I don’t have time for a puppy. I have hockey players to manage. Almost like kids, but their mistakes are a lot more costly.”

She leans back into the couch. “I want to know more about Tate. I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me right away.”

I shift in my seat. It was only a little story to get her to stop asking me about my dating life. But now it feels like it’s turned into something bigger.

“He’s the private type. Doesn’t talk about his personal life much.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop the NHL job search?”

“Wait a minute,” I say. “Are we actually planning this reunion, or did you just come here to drill me about my dating life?”

“Fine. But at some point, I want the dirt on this guy.” Olivia pulls out two notebooks from her bag, along with four different colored pens. She passes one notebook to me. “I put together a schedule for each day of the family reunion. I wanted you to look it over before I send it to everyone.”

She hands me a color-coordinated itinerary. Kids’ events are in blue, adult activities are in green, and mixed-family events are in purple.

“This all looks good,” I say. “You don’t even need my help.”

“Oh, I need you, Lauren,” Olivia says. “Because there is no way I’m getting stuck playing activities director for the week.”

“I’ll help pass out the schedule when people arrive. But I’m not staying the whole time. Not with Bart there. One day. That’s it.”

She flips through her notebook. “Has Dad been in touch with you?” she asks.

“Not recently. Why?”

She hesitates, then looks back down at her notebook.

“Is there something I need to know about Dad?” I ask .

“He’s just struggling more than he lets on. I think he’s lonely. And I can’t be his only emotional support. He misses you.”

I study her. “You know why this is hard for me.”

“I do.” Olivia sets her notebooks aside and looks at me directly, but gently. “I get why you don’t want to come. But I think you might regret not being there for Dad when he needs both his daughters.” She tilts her head. “And I think part of you knows that.”

I sigh. “I want to be there for Dad, I really do. But the thought of an entire week of being interrogated about my love life while watching our cousin parade around with Bart and missing Mom the whole time…” I shake my head. “It’s just a lot.”

She shifts toward me. “So bring Tate.”

I blink. “What?”

“I’m serious,” she says. “Bring him. You won’t be alone. You can shut down the nosy questions. And let’s be honest, Granny might finally stop asking when you’re getting married.”

“ Nothing stops Granny from asking when I’m getting married,” I say. “And I’m not dragging Tate to our reunion. We’ve had, like…one and a half dates. And he goes back home to California soon.”

“So ask him to stay a little longer.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because we work together,” I say. “What would I tell everyone? ‘Oh hey, this is just a guy I’m sort of seeing. Also, I’m technically his boss.’ It’s unprofessional.”

Olivia waves this off. “It’s not illegal. Besides, you already let everyone assume you were dating.”

“That was different."

Olivia leans toward me, touching my arm.

“Just think about it, okay? I don’t want to push, but I also don’t want you to miss out because you’re protecting yourself too much.

” She pauses. “Mom made us promise we’d stick together, to continue this tradition no matter what. We’ve made so many good memories. ”

I close my eyes and sigh. “Okay, I’ll come. But no promises about how long I’ll stay.”

Olivia smiles, relief flooding her face. “Thank you. And will you at least think about bringing Tate?”

Before I can answer, my phone dings loudly. Attached is a photo of Tate being licked on the cheek by a certain floppy-eared pup. His eyes are crinkled from laughing, and he looks ridiculously charming.

Tate

Annie was whimpering after you left, like she really missed you. I told her you’d be back.

My heart does a weird little lurch.

“Why are you smiling?” Olivia asks.

“Nothing,” I say too fast, tucking my phone away.

She grabs it before I can stop her. “Oh, this is nothing?” she teases, studying the screen. “Lauren. That man is sending you puppy selfies. That’s not nothing.”

“I told you, it’s for work.”

“Uh-huh. Work .” Then she flips to my photos. “There are like fifty of these.”

I steal my phone back. “It’s not that serious.”

Olivia nods. “Mm-hmm. Just keep telling yourself that, Lauren.”