Page 14 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)

Chapter Fourteen

Wolseley

H aving a few days to myself seemed a bit weird, but I took advantage of my seven-day-a-week job. Well, I still did a bit of work by making a grocery list for the next day, but other than that, I had nothing to do, so I took the opportunity to spend time with my two best friends.

With no rain in the forecast, we planned a walk in Stanley Park. Jill picked me up, and we met Tangi and Maddy there. Tangi had barely put Maddy in the stroller, and the cutie was rubbing her big brown eyes and yawning.

“She’ll be out any second,” Tangi said. “She didn’t have a nap today. She’s gotten used to taking naps with Ethan on game days, but when he isn’t around, she fights me and the nanny on it.”

We planned an hour-long walk since the weather called for no rain. I brought along a bottle of water for myself and snacks for my friends to try. All new protein-packed treats for Brandon if they passed muster.

“How’s it going with Brandon?” Tangi asked.

“Really good. I’m getting to know him and all his quirks. He’s determined to teach me all about hockey and suggests the two of you should take me to a game to see it all live.”

“I can get us the tickets,” Jill said. “You name the game.”

“The next one would work for me. I think it’s still preseason, right?”

“Just one more game before the season starts. And then the fun begins,” Jill said, peeking over to check in on Maddy, who was already fast asleep.

“Something else happened. Brandon and I have gotten into the habit of chatting during his dinners, so we’re getting to know each other. He asked me all about the restaurant, and I mentioned Daniel and what he pulled. So get this,” I said, trying not to sound too excited. “Brandon has put me in touch with his aunt. She’s a big-time lawyer in New York, and she connected me to a lawyer in St. Paul. To make a long story short, we are going to sue Daniel before he can come after me. It was all Brandon’s idea.”

Jill pursed her lips. “Didn’t I mention something like that?”

“Yes, but I didn’t have any resources then.”

“We would have helped you out,” Jill said, glancing over at Tangi. “Right?”

“Yes, we would have if Wolseley asked, but she didn’t because it’s none of our business, right, Jill?”

Jill got the hint and let the subject go.

“Sounds like an excellent plan you have now,” Tangi said. “Let’s hope Daniel goes away for good.”

“That’s the idea. And Brandon’s aunt was so nice. She assured me that Jan was going to teach Daniel a lesson.”

I could see Jill was thinking and about to probably burst my bubble.

“How are you going to pay for it? I know I sound snarky, but I’m trying to be practical. If you need help …”

I’d figured Jill out a long time ago, and she never offended or pissed me off. Jill was one of those people who said it like it was. Rarely did she sugarcoat a situation, and I loved her for that.

“Jan said she’d do it pro bono.”

“That’s great,” Tangi said. “How very generous of her. You lucked out there.”

“I know, because lawyer fees would kill me right now. I’m still trying to get on my feet.”

Brandon had paid me for my first month of work, and a chunk of that went to paying back my parents for airline tickets, moving costs, and what I could of my previous legal bills. Another chunk went to paying Tangi and Ethan for the condo fees. That left me with a bit of money in the bank but hardly enough to pay a lawyer’s retainer and feed myself. Thank the heavens for Jan.

“I know everyone gives Brandon a hard time, but he really is a good guy. This is another example of it,” Tangi said.

“I just like that you’re sticking it to Daniel.”

Good old Jill.

I passed around my samples since my friends were going to be the guinea pigs. They both loved them, and as we walked, the subject changed to the Kodiaks. The wives and girlfriends, WAGS, as Tangi called them, were planning some events. Something about a toy drive for Christmas, and it became abundantly clear that I wasn’t part of that. Tangi would never purposely exclude me, but based on the fact I wasn’t a wife or a girlfriend, I really couldn’t participate. She and Jill got into a deep discussion on who should do what, and who could be relied on. I listened along, feeling left out.

By the time we reached the cars, the subject had changed again to a fashion show being put on by the WAGS, which neither Jill nor Tangi wanted to participate in. Once again, I was on the outside looking in, wishing—but never admitting— that I would kill to be Brandon’s girlfriend. The more they talked, the more I thought about him. He was smart, funny, nice, and he had helped me out when he didn’t need to. And he also happened to be the hottest man I’d ever met. But guys like him didn’t go for cute: they went for Tangi.

“We are both on for the game next week? I think it will be fun,” Jill said.

“It won’t be a problem for me as long as the nanny agrees.”

Yes, I missed this so much and couldn’t wait to spend more time with my friends.

Brandon got home from his short road trip, and I had a late-night dinner saved for him. He hadn’t played in the first preseason road trip game, but he had in the second. The team had flown out right after. Even though the Kodiaks provided a meal on the plane, Brandon was always less than impressed by it, so I’d left for him a quinoa bowl he could either heat up or eat cold. It was packed with sweet potatoes, veggies, and my secret omega-rich sauce.

When I’d gotten up the next morning, he had sent me a text that he’d loved it.

Since I was finally used to my early mornings, I showered, changed, and headed over to his place to make him breakfast. At first, when I’d accepted the job, I’d worried about how hard it would be with all the long hours, but I couldn’t wait to go to work! My routine was set. I’d be at his place between six-thirty or seven, easily avoiding the unbearable morning rush hour in Vancouver’s never-ending traffic, and then I’d stay to make him breakfast and lunch. I’d head out late morning to hang out for some hours alone doing things I enjoyed or just unwind a little and enjoy Vancouver’s mild weather, then I’d head back to his place around one o’clock to work on his two dinners: one he ate before he left for a game, and one for after a game. On practice-only days, I had more time to myself in the afternoon since he would eat later in the day. But no matter what his schedule, I loved my job more than I’d ever loved my restaurant, and that hurt a little. I’d loved the Oak. It had been my dream, my baby, but it had also been my biggest failure, and just the thought of it now carved a hole in my heart. Even in the beginning, I’d never loved it as much as I loved being Brandon’s personal chef.

I tiptoed into his condo, careful not to wake him, though he was a pretty sound sleeper. I dropped a pan once, and it hadn’t woken him up.

I set down some groceries and quietly put them away before starting breakfast. According to his schedule, he had an off day, which usually meant carbing up, so breakfast was going to be a sweet potato hash filled with grilled vegetables, a protein smoothie, and a fruit salad. He loved sweet potatoes and told me he could eat them every day, so they were on the menu often. I planned to top the hash with three eggs sunny-side up. As an added carb, I placed two slices of whole-grain toast on the side. Sometimes, I used tofu instead of eggs, but today seemed like an egg day.

I guess I had been so quiet that when Brandon came into the kitchen, I scared him. He gasped a little, then laughed when he realized it was me. I found myself frozen in place because Brandon was shirtless, wearing only a pair of black shorts. I don’t think I even blinked as I tried not to ogle him.

“I didn’t hear you,” he said. “You were so quiet this morning.”

“Yip,” I squeaked instead of saying yup. The man was a Greek god, or what I imagined a Greek god to be. The chiseled muscles, the light smattering of chest hair because he didn’t give a damn about being hairless, the sleepy look on his scruffy face, and his blue eyes staring back at me inquisitively. Damn it, I was staring. Possibly drooling.

“Smells good,” he said, stepping past my unmoving form as if my feet were suddenly cemented to the floor. “I’ll get some coffee.”

I snapped out of my lusting daydream. “Right. Yes, it’s made. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.”

He needed to put a shirt on because he was distracting me. How could he be so magnificent? I wanted to reach out and touch every muscle on his chest. No, I wanted to do more than that.

“Do you like hotmus? I mean, hummus.” I wanted to die right there.

“I like hummus. Is hotmus some kind of spicy hummus?” he asked innocently.

I wanted to vaporize at that moment from the embarrassment. As for the hotmus, I should have lied and said it was. “No, but maybe yes?”

“I love a bit of spice, so it’s good either way.”

I had inadvertently come up with a new kind of hummus. “I figure it would be a great snack for you. Obviously, I make my own.”

“Obviously,” he said, pouring his coffee and setting it down on the island. “I’ll go change, and then we can have breakfast.”

“That would be really great,” I said before I could take it back. I was a birdbrain today!

He returned just in time to eat, this time sporting a gray T-shirt and black sweatpants. In that outfit, he was a lot less distracting but still gorgeous. I set out the food for him and was ready to get started on my not-hot hummus, but he pointed to the empty bistro chair next to him.

“I thought you were joining me for breakfast.”

He had mentioned we , but I wasn’t sure he’d remember, not that he forgot much. I grabbed a plate and some coffee, put a slice of bread in the toaster, and, not wanting to be rude, sat next to him. I grabbed some sweet potato hash, not wanting to take too much. The man had to eat, and he was paying for all of it.

“Tangi, Jill, and I are going to the game tomorrow,” I said.

“Oh good,” Brandon said, sipping some coffee. “You can impress them with all your new hockey knowledge.”

“Of course. I’m sure they will be impressed,” I said with a laugh.

“Just know you can have as many tickets as you’d like during the season. My parents come out once a year, and I’m lucky if my brother or sister make it out. I don’t have a ton of friends in town, so I mostly give the tickets away to charities.”

“That’s nice of you. I assumed a popular guy like you would have tons of friends in town.”

He grimaced just a bit. “No. I am pretty strict with who I let in my inner circle. A ton of people just want stuff from me, and I don’t tolerate freeloaders. And to be honest, I can be a pain in the ass, a little intense, and it turns people off. I call a few of the guys on the team as friends, but we don’t hang out much in the offseason.” He paused for a second. “Come to think of it, we barely hang out during the season.”

My toast popped, and I went to grab it, slathering on some vegan butter. I sat down again and glanced at him. I was perplexed. I assumed he would have a bevy of friends at his beck and call, but as I thought about it some more, he really wasn’t the type to suffer fools, and he didn’t drink or party that I could tell. Other than the rink and the gym, he didn’t do much else.

“Quality over quantity, isn’t that the saying? I have my two best friends, and that’s all I need.”

“Don’t you also have a million chef friends? ”

“Yes and no. We are all over the world, and after I graduated from culinary school, I did a lot of traveling and met a lot of people, but we weren’t exactly best friends. We keep in contact with social media, some chat groups about the business, but we don’t fly out to see each other.”

“But let’s say you went to Paris, and you had ten chef friends. Would they put you up? Would you go to dinner with them?”

“Yes, but that’s part of the business.”

He nodded, not smugly, but almost out of some kind of regret. “I don’t have that. You would think that would be the same with hockey. Former teammates from Juniors, or teammates who have moved on to other teams. For most guys, it’s a connection. I can’t seem to make that connection. Who am I kidding? Ethan and Jeremy put up with me because they have to. When we hang out, we’re hardly friends.”

Most people would be hurt knowing all that. Had it been me, I probably would have been in tears knowing that people didn’t like me. I put down my fork and shifted to face him.

“I think you’re cool and super interesting. I love hanging out with you. Maybe you aren’t giving people enough time to get to know you. I was thinking about something just this morning. About how much I love coming to work because you’re here. And if Ethan and Jeremy are hanging out with you, it’s not because they have to. Trust me, they wouldn’t. Okay, maybe Ethan would, but not Jeremy. He’s a good guy. I got to know him over the summer when he came to Minneapolis with Jill. Ethan may harbor resentment because of Tangi and how much you liked her.”

Oh god. My mouth had been moving so fast, my brain couldn’t keep up, and now I’d put my foot in it. If I slipped off the bistro chair and crawled away, maybe he wouldn’t notice, but that was wishful thinking. Because, at that moment, the biggest frown marred his face.

“I’m not pining away for Tangi. Do people think that?” he asked, sounding a touch defensive.

I held back a groan. “No. And no one even talks about it. I can assure you of that. I know about it because Tangi mentioned it once.”

“So Tangi told you that I liked her?” The irritation in his voice had leveled up a notch.

I had a feeling I was about to be fired. Brandon’s eyebrows creased as he tried to mask his displeasure or maybe his rage.

“No. I’m making a mess of this. Let me stress that she didn’t come out and say it,” I said, even though she had confided to me and Jill about it. “I figured it out. We could tell at the time that a lot was going on in Tangi’s life. She was pregnant, living with her ex, and she was working with you. She talked about you. We didn’t gossip, and Tangi definitely didn’t gossip.”

He was quiet for so long before going back to eating his breakfast. Then he said, “I expect that everything you and I talk about is between me and you. If you tell anyone anything, I’ll fire you.”

That was my first brush of coldness from him. More like bone-chilling cold, like the coldest winter day in Minnesota when you could barely breathe and your eyelashes froze. The tension rose between us, and I felt so stupid for screwing up so badly. This whole day was a roller coaster.

“Got it,” I said in my chef voice. He was the boss, and I was taking orders.

I ate quickly and cleaned up, and soon enough, he was finished and gone. Crap. I had no idea how mad he was or for how long it would last. Would he come home later, reconsider what had happened, and fire me? I supposed I’d find out soon enough.