“Mom, we still have four hours before my flight takes off. I have plenty of time.”
Mom harrumphed before ducking back inside the running car.
At the Easterly Sunday dinner, I handed Andrew the keys to the McClaren to use while I was gone. It was the first dinner since Nash’s return home, and I would be lying if I said he looked good. The man looked like he’d been to hell and back. I guess, in a sense, he had. But he’d been in good spirits and made me promise to take him for a ride in the exotic car the next time I was in town.
Whenever that would be. Until then, I kept my rental lease open with Rory and asked Alex to stop by periodically to make sure the place was in order. It was on her way to her cake shop.
She had finally started coming around to the thought of me and Aspen being an item, though it was clear she didn’t fully trust me yet. I had a feeling trust didn’t come easily for her. Either way, she made the best damn desserts, and I planned on ordering her pistachio cake at least once a week while I was gone.
“You’re staring off into space again,” Aspen said with a not-so-gentle tap on my shoulder.
“Sorry. Just going through a mental checklist,” I lied.
“Not sure why. You can buy whatever you need when you arrive in LA.”
Stepping forward, I wrapped both my arms around her waist. “Yeah, but I can’t buy a cricket, sooo… there is that.”
“True. But you could get one tattooed on you somewhere.”
“Not the same,” I mumbled as I brushed my lips against hers. As I pulled back, she checked her watch for the third time since we stepped out in the driveway. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah, sorry. I have the wood for the fences on your property arriving today. I’m just anxious to get it started.”
With a quick peck on her nose, I added, “It’s your property, baby. Remember that.”
“All right, Casanova, let’s get you on the road.” Her voice wobbled on the last word, and I knew my leaving was affecting her as much as it was me. I’d tried to pull every favor I could to extend my stay, but my contracts with the team and marketing were iron clad. When they wanted me to do something, I was required to be there if I wanted to keep playing for the salary I earned.
It was too bad that contracts didn’t change when your dreams for the future did.
***
California was exactly like I’d left it. Warm, sunny, and lonely. While I loved the people I met since I started playing for the Coyotes, the city of stars was one of the most isolated places I’d ever visited.
A waiting town car ushered me from the airport to my house, then over to the main offices of the Coyotes. I’d only had enough time to change into one of my tailor-made suits before I was expected to show my face in front of the general manager and the team owners. Per my coach, they both wanted to congratulate me on my previous season.
The minute I threw on the bespoke suit, I missed the jeans and flannels I’d been wearing around Sunny Brook Farms. I’d done my best to help Aspen around the farm—something I found myself enjoying—as she tried to fill her dad’s shoes. But I could see the work was already taking a toll on her. The weight of the farm and fulfilling her family’s legacy was all on her. I couldn’t fathom why no one else seemed to notice the strain she was under. Most of all, her mother and brother.
But I knew it wasn’t my place to speak up. All I could do during that time, and now, was support her and her decision.
On the plane, I thought about how Aspen wanted to travel but had never even been on a flight. My chest ached thinking about all her sacrifices that seemed to go overlooked.
“Welcome back,” my coach said as he waited for me in the lobby of the massive building.
“Thanks.”
“How’d the work go with that therapist? Your arm up to speed?”
“Kelsey did a great job. Seriously. I feel better than when I started last season.”
“Good to hear, kid,” he said with a jovial slap on my back. “Now, it’s the head honchos up in that room,” he added as we boarded the elevator. “I know you’ve been down this route a few times, but remember, they’re in it for the current and potential sponsorships.”
Yeah, I remembered my first meeting when I was twenty and nearly shit my pants while I was speaking with the general manager. He was the one who signed my paychecks, after all. At that time, I didn’t know I still held the power to say no. Now, I knew better, although they could overrule me at any time. It was why I tried to stay on my best behavior.
As Coach and I stepped out of the elevator and into the conference area, I had a sudden fear that the Vanessa issue was causing trouble for me and the team. Sports players relied on more than their stats to draw in new fans. We were also celebrities in our own right and had a certain image to portray. The leaked footage of my ex’s cheating scandals during our relationship could tarnish the appearance I tried to keep up.
As I stepped inside one of the glass-walled rooms, I analyzed the faces of the GM and team owners. They smiled, but it was forced as they congratulated me on a great season. The corners of their eyes didn’t wrinkle in the same way they had in the past.
Just as we collectively sat down, the public relations director, Rebecca, stepped into the room with a stack of papers and a laptop. Quietly and efficiently, she plugged in the device, and an image popped up on the projection screen.
I immediately recognized the woman in the picture. Vanessa, wearing one of her slinky red dresses, was standing outside the training area dressed to the nines. The next image showed one of our newest recruits stepping over to her and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She may have been done with me, finally, but she was trying to sink her claws into another unsuspecting male.
“Mr. Ramsey, do you know the woman in these photographs?” the general manager asked, and I replied truthfully and explained we hadn’t been together since the non-wedding.
“It seems she’s been causing a problem with our players.”
“Well, she’s signed with Venture Models. You could let them know how she’s behaving. Her job means everything to her.”
“But you're serious about her not being a problem?”
“Not for me. She’s history.”
The slideshow flickered to another image, and I felt the tips of my ears redden as a shot of me with Aspen appeared. It was one of our afternoon dates at The Purple Goat, and I kissed her outside under the awning as it poured all around us. The rain had come from all different directions, and we were soaked just by stepping outside.
“And her?” he asked, tilting his head as I smiled.
“She’s… everything.”
