Page 9

Chapter 9

Ganging up on me

Cooper

Callie’s jaw had lifted, and her lips were pressed together. I sighed. People were weird about money. In my case, about being with someone who had money. Maybe they were weird when people didn’t have money as well, I didn’t know.

“What about tips?”

“Not allowed. The members take up a collection twice a year and that’s distributed to all the employees.”

“That sounds good for the members, but not so good for the employees.”

“Another reason I don’t really enjoy this place.”

She looked down and rubbed her finger on a knife. “You’re doing this just for me?”

“I come here for other reasons, normally a few times a year, with my teammates or sponsors. I was here before that charity dinner, because golfing is a way to check on the guys without it looking like I’m checking on them. Since I’m in town all summer, except for the wedding, I’ll probably be here more often.”

She rubbed the knife a little faster. “I’m even more in your debt.”

“Callie, which one of us is currently making more money?” My hockey contract was publicly available. If someone wanted to know badly enough, they could probably work out the kind of cash I got from my endorsement deals.

Some asked me for “loans” or gifts. Those people I quickly removed from my life. Some were aggressive, like I owed them. A lot of people thought that if we were out at dinner, I had money and should pick up the check. I wasn’t cheap, and didn’t mind spending my money, but I didn’t like being an ATM.

Then there were people like Callie, who wouldn’t accept anything . The people who were terrified of taking advantage were almost as much of a pain as the takers. It was a minefield to tiptoe through. It made me nostalgic for school, when a group of hockey players had been living in a big old house together. Everyone chipped in equally to pay for pizza and beer. We were all on the same footing.

I leaned toward her. I didn’t give a fuck if someone thought my posture was a problem, but I had money and celebrity to let me get away with things. Callie was desperate to fit in, so I’d corrected her to protect her.

Her lips tightened. “Which one of us is getting the most out of this arrangement?” she countered.

I didn’t want her to be keeping a tally on this. “You have no idea what my family is like, so you shouldn’t assume you’re getting off easy.”

There were those wrinkles in her forehead, reshaping the freckles.

“Callie, if you’re going to be a human calculator through this, it’s not going to work. I offered this deal freely, and of sound mind.” Close enough. “I don’t like lawyers, at least lawyers like that Benson guy. I’m happy to help you, for my own personal reasons. I would like you to come to my sister’s wedding. It’s an easy solution to something that’s a potential problem. Lots of stupid shit has happened in my family, and you are the perfect person for me to take.”

She swallowed and her cheeks turned red. Wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but it wasn’t going to be Yes Cooper, that’s going to work out great.

“Am I the perfect person because I’ll embarrass them?”

The waiter delivered our drinks before my jaw dropped on the floor. Callie didn’t look at me again as she ordered—the chicken, cheapest dish on the menu—and I took the easy out with a steak.

Callie had herself under control by the time he’d swanned away. I took a quick scan of the dining room, saw a few gazes drop when I looked, a few that wanted to catch my eye, but none close enough to hear us. “Hey.”

She moved her attention from her drink to me. Her cheeks were still flushed. How far does that go? I wanted to give my dick a punch. Not now. Not with her. She’d be sure this was part of some negotiation.

“I’m not going to be embarrassed by you as my date. It’s exactly the opposite.”

She didn’t need to say a word. Her skepticism was broadcast by that little frown on her brow and the set of her lips.

I didn’t like to talk about my family, but hell, if all went well, she’d meet them, so I might as well tell her. “I come from a long line of lawyers.”

Her mouth formed an O and I reminded myself not to think about her lips and what they could do like that.

“Yeah, mostly family firm, very proud of themselves, very stuffy. I’m an outlier.”

The only one not to focus on law or finance as a career. I’d gone about as far from that as possible. And I was even more successful than they were, which I loved, and my father and brother were totally pissed about. It was one of the many perks of my job.

“When I decided not to go to Harvard, but to a school that launched a lot of NHL players, they weren’t impressed. My career, especially that I’m so good at it? That’s what embarrasses them. They like to think I’m a dumb jock, because the idea that I was smart enough to follow the mold and didn’t just chaps their asses. Showing up with an intelligent, successful lawyer, exactly the kind of person they hang out with but the kind of person they assume I could never meet playing hockey? Totally on point. You are absolutely perfect for my wedding date.”

Her eyes were wide as she took all that in.

“The fact that we’re not dating? You’re not with me to marry me for my assets? Totally fucks with their expectations. I would pay you to do this, but I’m pretty sure you’d refuse. So, we do each other a favor.”

I hadn’t spent that much time talking about my family since…I had no idea. Not my favorite topic, not something that came up a lot in conversation.

“You want me as your date, as a friend, so you can tell your family to get fucked. That’s what you’re saying?”

That summed things up quite nicely. “That’s it.”

She moved her cocktail over a fraction of an inch. “And your family is like Benson? Not all lawyers are the same.”

“Aren’t most of them?” I was perhaps a little jaded on the topic of lawyers.

Callie shook her head. “No, not all of them. But I’ve had to work very hard to get where I am, harder than Benson has ever had to. So I get what you’re saying. I’ll be your date.”

I grinned. Yes!

She held up a finger. “I’m not going to be an asshole to anyone. Not Benson, and not your family. I have my own future to think about. But if you need a tax attorney to impress them?—”

She smiled, and holy hell, that smile did something. It took away the tension in her expression, lit up her eyes. “You have a deal.” I held out a hand to shake on it.

“One thing.” Her smile left and her voice was serious.

What was she going to freak out over?

“I pay for the dress for the wedding, and any more clothes.”

She looked good, totally right at the moment, wearing the clothes I’d picked out while she laid down her ultimatum. I couldn’t let her wear something like that green monstrosity she’d worn to the dinner. “Only if I choose the clothes.”

She was frowning again.

“Clothes matter. Here at the club and with my family. Remember, they’re like Benson.”

“You choose, I pay?”

I could live with that. She was a tax attorney, for fuck’s sake, at a big firm. She had to have money. “I choose, you pay.”

She finally held out her hand and we shook. Her palms were smooth, the hands of someone who didn’t use them hard. Mine were callused. But she didn’t flinch, didn’t comment.

“So, when exactly is this wedding?”

“The end of August.”

Her hand jerked, and I knew she wanted to get her phone out to mark it in her calendar.

“I’ll send you the details.”

She nodded, but there was still a little frown between her brows. I wished there was some way to make Callie understand that by the end of this arrangement, I’d be owing her. The money I’d earned playing hockey, the endorsements, my condo and cars and investments—it wasn’t enough to impress my family. Having someone like Callie with me would make a bigger impact than any amount of cash.

But something of what I felt must have gotten through because she finally relaxed. Not totally. Whenever she realized she’d started slouching she jolted upright like she’d been prodded, and she kept fidgeting in her chair as she started and stopped crossing her legs.

Our meals arrived, and our water glasses were topped up. Callie refused another drink or a glass of wine and I did as well. I was driving.

She watched as I started to eat, then mimicked me, cutting into her chicken with the correct cutlery. “So, you pay an amount every month for food, even if you don’t use the restaurant.”

I nodded. Typical for a country club.

“And a portion of your dues goes for meals and entertainment, even though the expense may not be for a meal.”

“Are you planning to rearrange the billing system here?”

Her cheeks pinked. “It’s a hazard of the job. Meals and entertainment have a personal benefit to them, so theoretically, if you’re claiming a membership here as a business expense, you’d only be able to claim half of those costs. But if you don’t actually pay for food, should you be able to claim the whole amount?”

My steak was good. Callie didn’t seem to be tasting her food, her mind busy on this problem.

“I can’t help you there, but you could talk to my accountant if you want and see how he handles it?”

She set a forkful of rice back on her plate. “Who does your work?” I told her. She nodded. “They’re good.”

I’d asked around before I’d hired them, but it was nice to get confirmation from someone who knew.

Callie continued to pepper me with questions between checking out what everyone was doing. She must have trusted me with any protocol issues, because her questions tended toward the organization and management of the club. Things I had no knowledge of. My ignorance made her more confident, which was all to the good. I didn’t care about those things.

I signed for the meal, ignoring her frown, and we walked out into a beautiful afternoon to get my car from the valet.

The ride back to Toronto was a lot better. Callie, when she’d loosened up, was an entertaining companion. She knew nothing about sports. I asked how she was going to handle that in her partnership campaign. The firm she was working for was very involved with the local sports clubs. The partners were big fans and participated in a lot of the team charity events.

She smirked. “That’s easy.”

“Really? If a partner or client is a big fan of baseball or basketball or hockey, you’re just going to say you don’t care and hope it doesn’t bother them?”

She rolled her eyes at me. It was cute. “I just have to know when the sport seasons run. Hockey and basketball in the winter. Baseball and football in the summer. I ask what team they like, and if it’s the offseason, question what they think the team needs to do. Everyone has an opinion, and they’re happy to share it. I just listen. Remember the names of the players they like. Or I can ask them who was the team’s best player ever. They like that too.”

Huh. Had people done that to me? I would always support my team, so I wouldn’t offer opinions on the current roster, but asking about my hockey idols? That would distract me. I couldn’t underestimate this woman. She didn’t know sports or dressing or golf, but she had an incredible mind, and it was sexy. “What about in season?”

“Which player is having a good or bad season. If it’s a local team, if they see the games live. What team is their biggest challenge. Just generic stuff, but if I listen and pay attention, it usually goes well.”

That technique wouldn’t work on a golf course, or in the club. You could ask someone who their favorite golfer was, but it wouldn’t help you navigate the dining room, or make sure you didn’t try to take your next shot out of turn. Smart as she was, she needed my help. And that made me feel good.

We talked about movies and TV shows. Her roommate, Darcy, was a manager at a movie theater so she saw a lot of popular films. On the team jet we had downtime while traveling to away games, so we’d both seen most of the new releases and shared some tastes in common. There’d been a popular legal thriller out this year and her opinion on that was scathing. And a hell of a lot of fun to listen to.

I stopped in front of her condo building. She turned in her seat. “I should get you those clothes I can’t wear.”

I turned off the car. “I’ll come up and get them.”

She frowned.

I raised my hand. “Just saving you a trip. Show me what else you have to wear to the club, so we can work out how much you’re going to need.”

The furrows in her brow deepened. She picked up her bag, with the skirt and top she’d worn to practice in. “I’m good with this. I can clean it between golf lessons.”

“Callie.”

She lifted her chin again. The woman was so stubborn. “What?”

“You can’t wear the same thing every time.”

“I don’t need a whole lot of clothing like this. When would I wear it again? No one is going to even remember what I had on.”

There was a lot to unpack in this. But I didn’t want to have this discussion in the car, so I agreed to see what she already owned.

She was tense again as we headed up to her condo. That ease we had while talking at lunch and on the way back to the city was gone. She opened the door with jerky movements and dropped her bag on the coffee table in the living room.

“Stay there.”

I stayed, standing in where I’d stopped and checking out her place. It was nothing like mine, either in space or design, but it looked comfortable. I wondered which parts of the decor, if any, were Callie’s. Based on the sounds drifting down the hallway, and the swearing, she was having problems rummaging around in her room. I heard someone at the door, and her roommate Darcy came in.

He stopped when he saw me, arms full of groceries, face showing surprise. “Uh, hi.” He tried to wave, but that just jostled his bags.

I stepped over and reached for a couple.

“Um, thanks. Uh, I can leave again. Really. Just put the milk in the fridge and?—”

Callie stomped down the hallway then, arms full of clothes. “Darcy—you got food. Sorry, I meant to?—”

“No problem.” He looked between us. “I’m, um, just going to put the milk away and I’ll be gone.”

“Why?” Callie asked.

I kept quiet, enjoying the show. Darcy thought I’d come up here for more than clothes, and Callie was so oblivious it was funny. She was a strange mix. Super smart about some things, and totally missing out on others.

“We could probably use your help,” I added, and Darcy’s eyes widened to almost full circles.

“I don’t need the two of you ganging up on me.”

I watched Darcy blink as he processed the clothes in Callie’s arms, and the lack of any closeness between us.

“Why are you carrying around your running clothes?” he finally asked Callie.

She dumped them on the coffee table. “He”—she pointed at me—“thinks I need to buy a bunch of clothes for this country club.”

Darcy was up to speed now. “He’s right.”

“This is what I mean. The two of you ganging up on me.”

Darcy finally moved to the kitchen and I followed him, carrying the two bags of groceries I still held and setting them down on the counter. Callie stomped back down the hallway, muttering.

“So,” I asked, leaning against the doorway. “You don’t do threesomes?”

Darcy’s face flushed. “Sorry, but I thought…”

I smiled at him. “I know. Just playing with you. But if you can help Callie understand about the clothes, it would be great. She wants to make the right impression, and this is important.”

Darcy put the milk in the fridge. “I know. I’ve tried to explain it to her. She just lives so much in her head that she doesn’t understand why this external stuff is so important.”

I had one concern that I hoped he could help with. “Can she afford it?”

He balanced on one foot, the other toe twisting on the tile. I’d overstepped.

“I don’t mean to cross a line. I can help with the clothes issue, but she was upset about the stuff I brought this morning.”

He sighed. “She can, but it’s not her first priority.”

I heard Callie returning, so I stepped back into the living room. I didn’t want her to think we really were ganging up on her. For her sake, I wished she had some clothes that would work. But the things I saw on the coffee table were old and worn, and not up to the code of the club.

Callie and I were going to need to go shopping. And this could be all kinds of interesting.