Page 26

Stevie

The beginning of September marks a lot of changes for both Marty and me. My schedule is filling up more quickly than I anticipated, even though I told my agent not to overbook me. I’ve got back-to-back photo shoots in New York this week, and though Marty wanted to come, he’s started spending every day at the gym with some of his teammates and doesn’t want to break that up for a three-day turnaround in Manhattan. I’ll be working almost the whole time so there’s no point in him coming with me, but I start to miss him the moment the plane lands.

As soon as I’m in the limo the magazine sent to pick me up, I text him.

STEVIE: In the car heading for my hotel. I’m going to meet up with a photographer friend of mine for dinner and get to bed early. I have to be in the makeup chair at eight.

MARTY: Try to make a little time to have fun.

STEVIE: I will.

MARTY: I miss you, beautiful.

STEVIE: I miss you too.

MARTY: Call me before bed so I can hear your voice.

He’s really the sweetest.

STEVIE: I will.

I put my phone away and lean back in the leather seats. Being in New York is bittersweet for me because it’s a reminder of what happened. But it’s also the place where my career took off, where I bought my first home, and where a lot of my friends are. I haven’t kept in touch with many of them because I’ve been trying to let go of a lot of my past, but that’s not fair to them. They weren’t involved in what Damien did, so I shouldn’t take it out on them.

Part of me is embarrassed.

Almost everyone but me knew that Damien was trouble. They tried to warn me, and I ignored everyone, telling myself they were jealous. Looking back, I was such an idiot. There was nothing to be jealous of, but I was so wrapped up in the wedding. Paris. A couture gown. All the bells and whistles.

I cringe thinking about the money I wasted planning the wedding that wasn’t to be. I got a few deposits back, but most of it was a loss. Luckily, the designer who created my dress for me—Alexa Humboldt—is a good friend and she updated the design to make it slightly different and sold it to someone else. But the venue wouldn’t give me back the deposit, and the photographer only gave me half.

At the time, I wasn’t worried about it because I was in a deep depression after finding out I would never be able to have a baby. I’m still sad about that, but I’ve started to come out the other side between my therapist and the antidepressants I take.

And now Marty.

I smile just thinking about him.

We spend almost all of our time together, except when he’s at the gym or I have to be at the gallery or something work-related. We’re with Chey and Ivan a lot too, and double dating is fun. I’ve never really done that before. At least, not with a guy that my friends liked.

Everything is different with Marty.

My friends think he’s awesome, he treats me like a queen, and the sex is out of this world. A dam of some kind broke and we’re all over each other, all the time. I do worry a little about what will happen if he gets custody of his kids. Patty is coming and he’s going to hire a nanny, but I think it’s going to get complicated.

I can picture Emma’s little eyes welling up with tears when she’s upset. Martin’s belligerence because he has no other way to express himself. Bradley getting even more clingy. And another part of me worries about my role in their lives.

They have a mother, which means I would be their stepmother if our relationship progresses. But Bradley is only nineteen months old—with Brenna in Tennessee, I would become his mother, no matter what we tell him. And that’s bound to cause problems.

I’m also worried that Marty wants more kids. He’s never said anything to me directly, but he was clear that he wanted at least one more. I can’t give him a child, no matter how much I would have loved that, and he has to be okay with it. It’s not like I lied to him—he knows I can’t have kids. So I have to believe he knows what he’s gotten into.

These are some of the things we need to talk about but we agreed to take things slow and find our footing, and I don’t want to have any hard conversations this soon. We’ve had enough to deal with. It’s nice to just be together.

Despite my concerns, I can’t envision myself ending things with Marty. Everything else is perfect. I’m happier than I’ve ever been with a man, and that’s not just because the bar is low. Marty exceeds every expectation I set for myself when I thought about what I wanted in a man when I started dating again.

Marty checks off every box on my list and a few I hadn’t dared to hope for. I never thought there was such a thing as a Prince Charming, not for me, but there is. And he comes in the form of a hockey-playing single dad who makes me feel safe and whole again.

Why would I want to let that go?

* * *

My friend Marcie is waiting at the bar when I get to the restaurant. She runs over to hug me.

“You look good, girlfriend! How are you?”

“I’m a lot better,” I say, sinking onto a bar stool. The last time we talked was right after I left New York, so I’d been in a dark place emotionally.

I order a glass of white wine and turn to her. “What about you? Life treating you well?”

“Eh, sometimes.” She wrinkles her nose. “I travel all the time so it’s hard to see my family or even my friends. And forget about dating—I’m never here.”

“I think it’s the sacrifice we make for our careers,” I say thoughtfully.

“What about you? Are you dating anyone or staying single for a while?”

“Actually, I did meet someone. A hockey player. His name is Marty Nadeau. He plays for the L.A. Phantoms.”

“Oh!” Her eyes light up. “Tell me more!”

We talk about Marty—and the kids—while we wait for our table.

The ma?tre d’ approaches us out of nowhere. “Ms. Marchand. L’il Barracuda has extended an invitation for you and your friend to join his party for dinner.”

“Oh, is ’Cuda here?” I twist in my chair and look around.

Sure enough, ’Cuda is at a table in the back, and he lifts a hand in greeting.

“You want to meet someone both hot and nice?” I ask Marcie. “Let’s go eat with L’il Barracuda.”

She arches her brows. “You know him?”

“I do. Come on.”

We follow the ma?tre d’ to the table, and ’Cuda gets up to hug me.

“How you doing, Stevie?” he asks.

“I’m good.” I hug him back.

I introduce Marcie and he introduces his friends, and then I sink down next to him since it’s a half-circle style booth.

“What’s new?” he asks me. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been really good,” I say, and realize I’m telling the truth.

I’m still battling some demons but for the most part, I’m getting past it all.

“The video comes out in a few weeks. If you’d like to go to the premiere with me, we’re doing a party in L.A.”

I hesitate.

I like him but I have a boyfriend. I hope I didn’t give him the wrong idea by agreeing to join him for dinner.

“I have a boyfriend, ’Cuda.”

He nods. “You still dating that hockey player?”

I smile. “Marty. Yes. We’re trying out the living together thing.”

His dark eyes narrow slightly. “Make sure he’s good to you, Stevie. You been through a lot—don’t let anyone disrespect you.”

I hadn’t realized he knew anything about my past, and I’m startled for a moment, but he just smiles.

“You’re a good girl. You deserve the best. I’ve seen what that punk you were engaged to did. I’m just sayin’, you ever need help—anything at all—you call me. I live here in New York, but I can be in L.A. in six or seven hours.”

“You read about…what happened to me?”

“I almost always find out what I need to know about anyone I work with. And everyone I consider a friend.”

I’m suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

I never had friends like this before, and though this particular friendship is unexpected, I’m grateful for it, nonetheless.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I appreciate that.”

Impulsively, I lean over and hug him.

He hugs me back, and it’s one of those hugs that makes you feel good. Almost as good as Marty, but without the romantic undertones.

Which is nice.

Most guys don’t even try to pretend they don’t want to get in my pants.

“You’re a good soul, Stevie. I feel it. And good souls need to stick together.”

“That we do.” I smile.

“Now. Tell me about Marcie.”

I laugh. “She’s single but travels a lot. She’s a fashion photographer. She’s shooting me tomorrow for a new magazine. I’m going to be on their premiere cover.”

“That’s exciting. Marty didn’t come with you?”

“I have two long days in a row—we’d barely see each other and he’s getting ready for hockey season. Training camp starts in two weeks.”

“You think he’s the one?”

I grimace. “It’s too soon to know for sure, but I am sure he’s special. Whether or not it has forever painted on it, we’ll have to wait and see.”

“Smart girl.” He grins and then motions to the waiter. “Bottle of Dom Perignon. We’re celebrating new friends and bright futures.”