I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him.
Having to get on a private jet isn’t a horrible thing. Having to do it on New Year’s Eve because some spoiled rich kid can’t keep his name out of the press doesn’t allow me to enjoy the fact I got all the elbow room I wanted, didn’t have to go through security, and enjoyed more than a bag of pretzels and Diet Coke on the ride.
Mr. Jacobs, Ford’s dad, isn’t really a reasonable man. He wants his son on the straight and narrow and I’m not sure the kid’s ever drawn a straight line in his life. Never mind caring what anybody thinks of him. But Mr. Jacobs wants his son back up in New York tomorrow, so somehow I became the fetcher with the collar and leash. Good thing I have no social life.
I walk into the party, already feeling underdressed. If he didn’t hang up on me, he would have known that I was at the airport and maybe had the decency to meet me outside. What am I thinking? Ford wouldn’t give me a leaf to cover myself if I was naked. The man is a Neanderthal.
The minute I step in, Carl Gerhardt spots me and he happens to be talking to the Florida Fury PR rep, Tripp Newton. They break apart from the party, meeting me in the foyer. My eyes take in all the sequin gowns and sparkling jewelry. I tug my sweatshirt down over my yoga pants.
“Lena?” Tripp asks like he might be seeing things.
“Hey, Tripp.” I shake his hand. “Mr. Gerhardt.” I shake his hand. “Sorry for barging in here. I’m looking for Ford.”
“Is this about two nights ago?” Tripp asks.
“Partly. Mr. Jacobs wants Ford home and since he’s refusing to come himself, I’m here to get him.”
Tripp laughs but sobers when Mr. Gerhardt’s nostrils flare.
“I put out a statement about the fight,” Tripp tells me, but his idea of a statement was making it a joke that the guy Ford punched was a Georgia Blades fan.
“I saw. Turns out Mr. Jacobs is on his last rope with Ford. I think he’s under a lot of stress.” I don’t mention that he’s trying to get a merger with another company and having an out-of-control son isn’t helping the situation. Especially when the son is in his late twenties. “Thank you for doing that. I’ll be putting another statement out from the family. That they don’t condone fighting and Ford will issue an apology himself.”
“Can’t we just allow this to be swept under the rug?” Mr. Gerhardt asks.
I shake my head. “I’m just the messenger.”
“And apparently animal control,” Tripp says, laughing. He’s had his own hands full after Ford’s stunts.
Mr. Gerhardt gives him an angry glare, and Tripp again sips his drink and says nothing.
“Well, I don’t know where he is. I saw him earlier and we had our own talk about the fight.”
“And was he receptive?”
Mr. Gerhardt rolls his eyes. “I’m never sure. I’ve had a hard time figuring him out since I drafted him. If he wasn’t so damn fast, I might cut him.”
Tripp and I both raise our eyebrows and Mr. Gerhardt laughs.
“Yeah, probably not. Damn, I can’t lose my center and my right wing.”
I tilt my head to why he would lose his center.
“Drake isn’t performing,” Tripp whispers and looks around. Meaning that Aiden Drake is here somewhere, which shouldn’t surprise me because Aiden, Ford, and Maksim are practically joined at the damn hip.
“Good thing I only have to deal with Ford.”
“I think you drew the short straw,” Tripp says. “Ford’s enough to handle.”
“I know it. I should go find him. Sorry for barging in,” I apologize to Mr. Gerhardt, who appears lost in thought.
“No need. You can always borrow a dress from my daughter and stay awhile.” He smiles and winks. The man has always treated me nicely. Probably because I’m trying to help him with Ford Jacobs’ off-the-ice behavior, although I’ve been unsuccessful so far.
“Thank you. But I’m going to grab Ford and then we’re out of here.”
“Call me if you need anything,” Tripp says as I walk down the hallway.
Sliding by people, trying to make myself invisible, I reach the outside and slide by two men hitting the stairs. If I know Ford, he’s down by the water. It’s where I always find him at Jacobs’ parties and events.
Just to be sure since I don’t want to hang around a fancy party looking like I came out of a yoga class, I stop a blonde who is wiping her feet off from the beach.
She points me to the left and I say a small curse that I know Ford so well, I can pinpoint where he’d be at a party. Walking by the water, I don’t find him, so I head toward the orange orchard, which is awesome.
The girl giggling is a clear sign I’m in the right place. I would hate to hear Ford Jacobs’ tally of how many women he’s slept with.
“Ford Jacobs!” I yell.
“Who’s that?” I hear a girl whispering and I follow the voice, my head hanging when I spot two bodies on the ground.
“Ford, time for the fun to be over.”
“You cannot be serious,” he says, and after some rustling, he comes out to the moonlight. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
His shirt is untucked but only a few buttons at the top are undone. His suit jacket wrinkled and his slacks hanging low. I’d only ever admit this to myself, but the man was gifted with looks and a body, plus he skates on the ice like he was born to play hockey.
“Want to snap a picture?” he asks, snapping me out of my exploration of his body.
More rustling and a girl shows up next to him, hooking her arm through his. Nausea rumbles in my stomach. Ford unwinds himself from her. “Why don’t you head back to the party?”
The girl looks at me and her eyes run down my body. “Who is she?”
“No one,” Ford says, and I feel a quick tinge from the sharpness of his word.
“Then send her away,” the girl says, trying to attach herself to Ford while he tries to politely move away from her. I have no idea why the guy does what he does.
“I have to take care of this. I’ll meet you back at the party.”
The girl pretend pouts and I sigh, waiting. “Not too long. You promised me a midnight kiss.” She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek, leaving lipstick on his face.
I wait for her to finally leave, annoyed that this is my job after everything. I took this job as a means to pay rent and every time I try to leave, Mr. Jacobs throws more money at me. Turns out not every PR rep is willing to put their own life on hold. So, here I am in Florida on New Year’s to pick up his adult son and drag him back to the man like I’m a bail bondswoman.
Once she’s gone, he unbuckles his pants and tucks in his shirt right in front of me.
“Why don’t you do that somewhere else?” I ask.
“Oh come on. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Well, smaller versions at least.”
He laughs and I sigh.
“Your dad wants you home,” I say.
He stops with his fingers on the buttons. “He sent you to fetch me?”
I nod.
He inhales a deep breath. Among the Jacobs family, it’s no secret that Ford and his dad don’t see eye-to-eye. They hate one another and Ford pokes Mr. Jacobs, loving the reaction he gets in return. From what his sister, Imogen, told me, it has to do with Ford being the only son and not wanting to take over the company. Kind of a classic story, but I’m not sure why Ford is so adamant about making a spectacle of himself. He’s playing professional hockey, put your nose down and play and be happy. His dad would leave him alone then.
“Well, sorry, I’m not going. Papa Bear is going to be disappointed.” He finishes getting himself presentable and it’s like he’s got magic dust the way he went from rumpled to gorgeous.
“You have to come. The jet is at the airport. We can stop and get your stuff if you want.”
He slides his hands into his pockets and looks at me. “Why should I?”
“Because your dad is asking,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
He nods but I can tell he’s thinking about something behind those sparkling eyes of his and I’m positive I’m not going to like whatever it is.
“It’s going to look pretty shitty when you show up without me, huh?” He smirks and I give him my best evil stare.
“Let’s just make this easy. Come home, Ford.”
He shrugs, keeping his hands in his pockets. “I’m not sure I want to.”
“I know you don’t want to but if you don’t go to him, he will come down here eventually and most likely surprise you.”
“Man, you know him well.” At least he looks like he’s considering what I’m saying.
“I know your stint two nights ago broke another glass in his office.”
“I’ll have to remember that come Christmas.”
“Ford.” I say his name with the last ounce of patience I have.
“Boyd.”
I wait it out and he laughs.
“Okay, I’ll go with you. On one condition.” He holds up a finger and I sigh because this will not be good.
“I’m not going skinny dipping with you,” I say.
“I’d never ask a woman to strip in front of me if she wasn’t comfortable.”
“Good to know.”
“However...” He raises his finger again. “Since you rudely interrupted me just now, I’m left with no one to kiss at midnight.”
“I think you’ll deal.” I tighten my arms around myself.
“Everyone needs to kiss someone at midnight.”
“Why?”
He laughs again. “You could use some luck when it comes to love, couldn’t you?” he asks. His eyes roam down my body. “I mean you were available to fly down here on New Year’s Eve in leggings and a sweatshirt. Surely, you want to find someone to love?”
“I don’t believe in superstitions.”
He steps closer. “Maybe this is your year.”
I step back and put my hand up. “If you don’t want to come home, I’m fully comfortable telling your dad you refused.”
“Are you really, Boyd?” He makes a clicking sound with his mouth. “I don’t believe you.” He continues to approach me, and I retreat.
“Stop playing games, Ford.”
He holds up his hands. “I’m just doing both of us a favor. We don’t want an entire year of nothing.”
“Are you insinuating you want to find love this year?” I raise an eyebrow and an evil laugh falls out of him.
“Hell no, but I do want to be lucky.”
“Gross. So, if I kiss you at midnight, you come home without any problems. You’re not going to run away at the airport, are you?”
He holds up his hands. “I’m strapped in right next to you.”
Kissing Ford isn’t the worst thing I could do to get him home. He’s calling my bluff because I do not want to show up tomorrow to Mr. Jacobs without Ford. Now that I’m used to living on the salary from Mr. Jacobs, I can’t very well get fired and pay my rent and other expenses.
“Fine.”
He doesn’t make a move and I have no idea how close we are to midnight. Ford lifts his wrist and his expensive silver watch glistens under the moonlight. “You’ve got about twenty-five minutes. Make the most of it because you’ll never be the same after you’ve been kissed by Ford Jacobs.”
“Excuse me while I throw up.”
He laughs and swings his arm around my shoulders. “Take me home, Boyd.”
We walk along the side of the mansion and down to the Uber that I had stay, all while my stomach erupts with butterflies that Ford’s lips will be on mine. Damn traitors.