Page 19

Chapter 19

Dressed me up like a doll

Callie

For most people, trying on beautiful clothes was not an issue. My figure and coloring always made clothes more challenging. But this wasn’t just finding a pretty dress. There were layers of clothing, starting from the skin up. I’d worn the best bra and underwear I had, but I could feel the saleswoman’s disapproval as we tried on yet something else.

The first thing was to find the dress— the dress. I’d have spent less time shopping for my own wedding dress if I ever lost my mind enough to consider marriage. But Cooper wanted to impress his family, so he was fussy. I was getting used to his magic now, how something he picked out would transform how I looked in ways I couldn’t really figure out. Part of it was color, but there were infinite variations in a color, and some were magic and some were not.

Everything I tried on looked good, but not quite right. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or dread another session. And then we found it. Despite the cost and the lack of practical usage, I loved the dress. It was green, but nothing like the dress I’d worn to the charity event. It was low cut for me, but in a classy way, and made me look…like the woman some part inside me had always wanted to look like. I coveted that dress as soon as I tried it on. I could fit in anywhere like this. Like I belonged. I didn’t even mind the smug look on Cooper’s face.

And it broke me. The saleswoman brought in lingerie that suited the dress, and I caved. With “the dress” out of the way, I tried on something for the family dinner, and the rehearsal, and the two of them dressed me up like a doll. The three dresses, more lingerie, shoes and purses were added on and I just let them. Something in the back of my brain balked at the idea of how much this would cost, but I muttered investment and shoved the thought down.

When we finally left the shop, I was tired but surprisingly happy after hours spent in a store. Not because there hadn’t been any flirting, but because I was done. Definitely that. Cooper held open the car door for me.

“What about the clothes?” We hadn’t brought out any bags with us. I only had my purse, where my credit card was almost too hot to touch after that trip. There were some tailoring adjustments to be made, but I was strangely reluctant to leave the items behind.

“They’ll send them over.”

“To your place or mine?” All the information they had on me was my credit card and that didn’t come with an address.

“Yours. I gave them the address for the delivery.”

Once Cooper was in the car, I frowned and asked, “How did they know my size and everything?”

He shrugged. “I told them.”

Right . Like he had for that sportswear store that was his sponsor. “Well, thank you.”

His eyebrows rose. “You’re welcome. I thought you’d fight this a lot harder.”

“Darcy told me not to be difficult. I’m sure I can wear these things again. And…” I swallowed and admitted the truth. “I like them.”

A smile crossed his face, like I’d given him a gift by making that admission. He was always attractive, but this did something else. Something that was dangerous for my mental well-being and the limits I’d imposed on our relationship.

I was way too invested. It was a good thing we were almost finished with our arrangement. Just over a month. I could be sensible for a few weeks.

* * *

Cooper

I was having second thoughts about inviting Callie to the wedding.

The social circle my family was part of was Briarwood on steroids. I’d thought about how a tax lawyer would impress my family and mess with their assumptions about me. Someone from their world, with the stupid jock. It didn’t matter that I made more money than any of them. Had been more successful. Since I hadn’t toed the family line, they adjusted their qualifications to protect their own world view.

Making sure my underwear ads were posted where they couldn’t miss seeing them had been petty, but I enjoyed imagining their reactions when asked about it. I refused to be ashamed of my choices.

Family get-togethers included a lot of subtle hostility. Growing up I’d learned how to handle that kind of battle. But had I made a mistake? Would this hurt Callie? The thought of something Pierce or my father said wounding her upset me more than anything they threw at me.

But she’d never back out now. She needed to think she was bringing something to our arrangement. I’d deal with this protective streak by keeping close to her and interceding as necessary. I’d introduce her as a friend, but there would be assumptions that we were more than that.

Our increased workouts helped keep me from obsessing over this upcoming trip. A couple more guys, like Oppy and Deek, had come back to town, so our on-ice training was pushing our fitness levels. Darcy joined us when we went to the driving range, and I spent evenings with the guys, maintaining those team bonds, checking their mental condition as well.

That was my job. Not worrying about a lawyer meeting my family.

Callie had gotten her clothes back from the tailors last week. We were flying out on Thursday. She had reluctantly agreed that I could pay for the flights because this was my event. I didn’t tell her we were flying first class since my tight-fisted lawyer wouldn’t have sprung for that. I grinned as I pictured her reaction when we boarded. I wasn’t a small man, and since I had the money, I paid for comfort. There was also a reasonable chance that no one in first class would tell me how my team had messed up that last game in the Cup final, but someone in economy undoubtedly would. Call me a snob, but I had experience to back me up.

I picked her up in a limo—I didn’t want to leave any of my cars in airport parking.

She walked out of her building in a dress, one of the outfits from my sponsor. It flattered her body, emphasizing her hourglass figure and making her hair glow. She looked cool and composed, her hair pulled back in a French twist, with discreet makeup. She had no jewelry beyond a couple of studs in her ears, and I had an urge to get her something. My mom and my sister wouldn’t be vulgar, but they’d have a substantial investment in jewels on. I wanted Callie to look just as valued.

I mentally shook myself. Like Callie would let me buy her jewelry. And I didn’t do that—buy things for my dates. Or friends.

The driver opened the door to let her in, then took her luggage to the trunk. I was about to tell her how good she looked when she cut me off.

“Don’t say it.”

I laughed. Such a Callie way to greet someone. “Don’t say what?”

She rolled her eyes. “You want to gloat about these clothes.”

It wasn’t just the clothes. It was the whole look. “I was going to say you looked good.”

“I knew it. I feel like a Stepford wife.”

I couldn’t imagine anyone less like a Stepford wife. “Are you uncomfortable?”

She squirmed. “Not exactly.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

“But I didn’t hear.”

She gave me a sharp-edged smile. “I said, how different is it flying commercial as opposed to flying on your team jet?”

“I don’t think that’s what you said.”

She shrugged. I let it go. She’d said it, I heard it, that would do.

“It’s a bit more of a hassle with lineups and security, but I thought you’d be freaked out if I chartered a private jet for this.”

Her eyes rounded. “You wouldn’t.”

“I didn’t. ”

“Is your family all rich?”

“Rich is relative. They don’t normally charter a private jet, but they could if they needed to.”

“This is going to be an interesting trip.” It didn’t sound like she meant that in a good way. She was at least partly prepared.

When I steered her to first class to check in, she gave me some side-eye but otherwise didn’t react. I was disappointed, but part of what I liked about Callie was the way she could surprise me.

Security was the usual pain. I had a trusted traveler card, but Callie did not, so I stayed with her. For passengers flying from Toronto to the US, there was Customs in Toronto, so we cleared through before boarding—the agent recognized me and that helped smooth things.

Fans also recognized me. Some wanted selfies, some to tell me I’d fucked up the finals, but we eventually found a corner in a bar to wait for our flight to be called.

Callie looked around at the other travelers, frowning at a guy staring at me. “People continually tell you how to do your job.”

“Yep.”

“You’re a lot more patient than I would be.”

I laughed. “I can only imagine what you’d do if someone tried to correct your tax opinions.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why pay me if they don’t trust me to do the work properly?”

“People don’t think they know tax, but they do hockey.”

“Does it bother you?”

“I don’t get endorsement deals because I’m a private person.” The publicity was another way to annoy my family, so I was patient with the public.

“But talking about how you lost at the end. That must be tough, rehashing it all the time.”

I looked over her shoulder at the planes sitting on the tarmac. “It’s shitty. But the only way to get over it is to start playing again and win it all this time.”

“How do you not blow up at people blaming you for it?”

“I did make the pass Minnesota intercepted. And if I acted like an asshole, people wouldn’t want to buy the products I endorse, and I’d lose out. So, it’s worthwhile to be nice.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s more than that though.”

I focused on her again. “I am one of the luckiest people on the planet, to get to do what I love and be paid and celebrated for it. I refuse to whine about something so many people wish they had.”

Callie fidgeted with the glass in front of her. “If I did something, like yell at one of these people bothering you, would it reflect badly on you?”

Why was I so happy that she was worried about harming my reputation? “Don’t worry about this. You’re not going to go off on anyone, and we’re just catching a flight. You’ve handled Benson, and the people at Briarwood, so you can handle this.”

She cocked her head. “I think that’s our flight they’re calling.”

She grabbed her carry-on and we headed for our gate. There were no hockey fans nearby, or if they were, they didn’t speak to us. We got to board first and settled in our priority seats. I held back a grin at the way Callie touched the goodies on offer and eyed the amount of space we had. The flight attendant in first class widened her eyes when she saw me, but she didn’t say anything.

Once we were in the air and had been offered beverages, Callie turned to me. “So, prepare me for your family.”

“You’ll have a lot in common. They’re almost all lawyers. My sister is an investment analyst, and she’s marrying a lawyer.”

She glanced out the window then turned back. “Why didn’t you become a lawyer too?”

“I’m a dumb jock.”

“Bullshit.”

I raised my brows. “I play hockey for a living, and I pose in my underwear.”

“I have no idea how much intelligence is required to pose in your underwear, but you have to use your brain to play hockey.”

“Believe me, not everyone who plays hockey is a member of Mensa.”

“Neither is every lawyer, based on some of the shit I’m given to review. But your team practices plays and studies other teams and players, don’t they? Maybe everyone isn’t a genius, but you’re smart.”

It felt good to hear her say that, because a lot of people saw my face, my body and my career and assumed I wasn’t intelligent. “Why do you think I’m smart?”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

“Not really. My family will challenge your opinion.”

“I deal with intelligent people and morons and all the variations in between. I can tell the difference.”

“They’re well entrenched in their beliefs. Your opinion alone won’t impress them.”

“Maybe you should show them your portfolio.”

It took me a minute to respond. How did— “How do you know about my portfolio?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know any details, but I know you have one. You play hockey for millions of dollars, have those endorsements you were talking about, pay way too much for clothes, have stupid expensive cars and a penthouse condo.”

“I could be spending everything I have on that.”

“But you aren’t, because you’re not an idiot.”

I laughed. She might not have proved her point in logic, but she was right. I did have a healthy portfolio and could support myself in the lifestyle I enjoyed for the rest of my life. I played hockey now because I loved it. I loved having a team, fans, money and driving my family crazy. Why would I stop?

“You didn’t tell me why you didn’t become a lawyer.”

“Does it offend you that I didn’t pursue your profession?”

She rolled her eyes. “Look at all those fancy words from the dumb jock. No, I’m just curious why, considering your background.”

Who knew what the fuck my family would say if it came up? I should explain, prepare her. “Spite had a big part in it, especially after the incident with Vicky. My family thought I was wasting my time with hockey, and I didn’t want to live my life in their shadow.”

She was still frowning.

“Not a good enough reason for you?”

“Just thinking.”

“That I was petty?”

“That you either had enough privilege growing up that you could take that kind of gamble, or a passionate drive to play so you were willing to risk screwing up your future.”

I took a sip of my drink while I worked through what she’d said. “Both. I grew up with a lot of privilege, and I had a safety net. But also, to make it to the pros you have to love doing it. It’s too damned hard to do it as a hobby.”

Callie had that crease between her brows as she processed the information I’d given her. “Let me see if I understand the dynamics for this visit. Your family is going to put you down while you flaunt your success in their faces.”

It didn’t sound flattering when she distilled it down like that. “Are you sorry you agreed?”

She shook her head. “Now I understand why I’m the perfect plus-one.”

I watched her expression, checking if she was pissed. “Does that bother you?”

“You told me your brother was like Benson. Assuming that’s correct, I’ll enjoy helping you flaunt.”

“Benson only wishes he could be an asshole on my brother’s level.”

She pursed her lips. “Do they follow hockey? Because your team lost the finals. Will that be something they use against you?”

“They’ll try.”

“And what will you do?”

“Pretend I don’t care about losing as long as I get paid.”

“They believe that?”

They certainly did. Time for a subject change. “You said you were in foster care. What happened to your family?”

Her expression closed up. “I don’t have one.”

“You sprang up out of—what was it, some guy’s head? Or a seashell?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. I have no idea who my father was. Neither did my mother. She was an addict. I bounced in and out of care till I was ten. She’d come back, swear she’d gotten clean and that she loved me and wanted me back. It never lasted.”

“And when you were ten?”

“She stopped coming back.”

Shit. I thought my family was fucked. Callie stared out the window, lips pressed tightly together. Things about Callie made a lot more sense now.