The media frenzy starts before my retirement announcement even leaves my agent’s office.
Mine and Oakley’s phones have been going crazy for the last hour. We’ve ignored them until now.
But as we usher Shelby out the door onto the street, the doorman helping her into the car Oakley ordered, I can see the paparazzi lining the sidewalk to the left and right as well as across the road.
“We’re going to need to deal with them,” Oakley murmurs. “It isn’t fair to everyone else who lives in the building.”
“I’ll get the doorman to call the police. See if they can move them off.”
“It might be better if we do a press conference.” She glances up at me. “Has your agent sent your press release out yet?”
“I don’t think so.” I rub a hand on my chin, the stubble scratchy. “Let me call him and we can work out what to do.”
“Let’s conference call him to sort it out. I also think you should reach out to Rafe, ask him if they want to do a joint one.”
“They said—” No, they didn’t, Cantrell did, and after dinner last night I don’t think I can take his word when it comes to the Knights org. “You’re right. I should see what he wants to do.”
Putting a hand on her lower back I urge her toward the elevator.
“I’ll message Drake and let him know what’s going on and see when he can—”
“Drake is right here.”
We spin around to find Drake is indeed here. “Hey.”
He’s frowning at me. “You didn’t think I should know about this?” He waves a hand between me and Oakley.
“Have I ever told you about my love life?”
“No, but you’ve never been seeing the billionaire CEO of a global sportswear company and if rumor has it”—he aims a look at Oakley that has my hackles rising—“the owner of a national sports team.”
“What rumor,” Oakley demands as I say, “Fuck!”
“Inside contacts. I do represent a number of hockey players, remember?” Drake puts his arm out. “Lead the way—the rest of this conversation needs to be out of the press’s lens shot.”
He’s right, we can’t hang around the building’s foyer talking about this. “C’mon.”
The quiet in the elevator is not a comfortable one. I can’t come up with any words to ease it either. And a quick glance at Oakley shows me she’s not going to make the effort.
Her mouth is set, her eyes focused, and I imagine the wheels in her head are spinning.
She’s a talented businesswoman, there’s no denying that, not with the success of Rogue and now the signing of a national sports franchise.
If anyone can navigate the turbulent waters to come, it’s her. That’s why I’ll follow her lead. Professionally and personally.
I’m all in, after all.
I get the front door open and motion her and Drake in ahead of me.
Oakley is already striding toward the dining room. “I’ll get my laptop set up for the call to…” She looks over her shoulder at Drake. “Nat and Blake,” she finishes.
I know what she’s doing. She’s not about to confirm the rumor, at least not until she’s spoken to her partners. She rarely mentions their fourth, Cami, because she’s not part of the everyday decisions.
In fact, I think Cami is a journalist. Which may work in our favor if we can use her in any way to steer the media frenzy.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were seeing Oakley James?” Drake hisses in my ear.
I give him a narrow-eyed look. “Careful with that tone.”
His eyes widen and he takes a step back. “Wow. Okay. You’ve never used that look on me before. I’ve seen it, on the ice, in interviews, but never looked into it straight on.”
He shakes his head and takes a step in the direction Oakley went. I don’t bother saying anything because my teeth are still clenched tight on the anger that burst inside me at the sound of his voice.
“I’m going to make a quick call in the bedroom.” Oakley walks toward me, phone in hand. “Can you put some coffee on?”
Her question is aimed at me but it’s Drake who answers.
“I’ll get it.”
She arches an eyebrow and waits for him to be out of earshot before speaking. “Do you want in on the call?”
“To Nat and Blake? Why would I?”
“Because you might not have signed a contract, but you’re part of the team now. A major part and I think as this is going to affect you, we should include you in the discussions and decisions on how to handle whatever the hell is about to blow up in our faces.”
“No. I trust you to make the right decisions. Just let me know what they are.” And I do trust her. Completely.
She smiles at me and pushes to her toes to lay a far too quick kiss on me. “Back in a bit.”
She’s gone before I can grab her and kiss her properly. The urge to follow is strong but I know we don’t have time for that now. Besides, if I follow her into the bedroom, we’re not coming out for a while.
A while we don’t have.
Especially with my agent in my damn kitchen.
Sighing, I scrub a hand over my face and head in Drake’s direction.
“Where’d you hear the rumor?” I ask without preamble.
“Cantrell.”
“Jerry?” What the fuck?
“He was on the other end of my phone about thirty minutes ago. Told me he was suing the pants off us both because he knows you’ve signed to play with the new franchise that hasn’t been announced yet.”
If I thought my jaw was clenched before, I was an idiot. I’m clamping down so hard I swear I hear bones cracking.
“He said this thing between you and Oakley is a smoke screen to hide the deal.”
“Huh.” As theories go it’s not a bad one. It’s way off but it’s not unbelievable.
“So is it a smoke screen?”
I laugh. “Did you not see me give you the look when you spoke about Oakley in a tone I didn’t find acceptable?”
Drake puts his hands up. “Got it. Not a smoke screen.”
Moving around him I get three mugs out of the cupboard. “I’m in love with her.” I don’t know why I feel the need to explain myself or give him the depth of our relationship but I do.
Hell, I want everyone in the world to know I’m in love with Oakley James.
“And she’s…”
I give him another narrow-eyed look.
“Right. She’s with you.”
There’s an awkward silence between us for a few moments and I don’t feel the need to soothe it with words. I want him to feel uncomfortable about this discussion.
“Okay, so what do we do about your retirement announcement?”
“Nothing right this minute. We’ll wait for Oakley to join us and I’ll give Rafe a call—”
“Why are you calling Rafe?” Drake asks as he picks up the first mug to fill with coffee now the pot is full.
“Um…” I glance around, for who I haven’t a clue because the only other person in the apartment is Oakley and she knows what I’m about to reveal. “This doesn’t leave this apartment.”
If Drake is taken aback by my tone, he doesn’t show it. He pushes a mug across the counter toward me. “If this has to do with Jerry Cantrell getting a kick in the nuts, I’ll keep my lips sealed, grab popcorn and a drink so I can sit back and watch the show.”
“Good. He doesn’t actually own the Knights.”
“What? Who the hell does?”
“Laken Cantrell.”
Drake’s still for half a second then he cracks up laughing so hard he doubles over. He tries to speak but nothing forms that I can understand.
I get why he thinks it’s hilarious. Before Gerald Senior died, his son was known as Gerald Junior. After Senior died, Junior made it clear he was no longer the junior in his family and everyone should call him Jerry.
“Oh fuck.” Drake straightens and wipes at his eyes. “Please tell me I need that drink and popcorn.”
“You will. I don’t know the timeline, but I know Laken is making moves in the next week or so.”
“Good time for you to cut ties with the Knights. Let’s get that announcement out sooner than later,” Drake says.
“Let me call Rafe real quick, then see what Oakley has to say.”
“Why do we need Ms. James’s input on this?”
“Because our relationship has been splashed all over the place this morning?” I don’t mean for it to be a question but it comes out that way.
“And the rumor…” Drake raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t confirmed or denied that.”
“It’s not Walker’s job to confirm or deny.” Oakley comes into the kitchen, her stride smooth, confident. “Care to tell me the details of the rumor?”
“Sure. Like I just told Walker, Jerry Cantrell called this morning to inform me he was suing me and him because he knows you’ve signed Walker to play on your new team.”
The smile that tips her mouth is full of humor. “Any idea where he got that from?”
“No. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about and I don’t speculate on my clients’ relationships, to which he said the thing between you two is a smoke screen to cover up your backstabbing ways.”
She’s laughing now and I have to chuckle along with her because Oakley doesn’t need to backstab anyone to get what she wants.
“Walker tell you Jerry doesn’t own the Knights?”
“He did indeed reveal that hilarious piece of info.”
“Good.” Turning to me she says, “I spoke to Nat and Blake and I have an NDA here.” Her gaze flicks to Drake.
“Ah, sure. If that’s the way you want it to go.” I’m trying not to reveal too much. Drake’s a smart man, he’ll be putting everything together to form a big picture. Proving that thought correct, he speaks.
“Got a pen for me to sign that NDA?”
Oakley’s mouth tips up on one side. “Oh, I think I like him.”
“You better.” He offers her a mug. “We’re going to be doing business together in the future, I’m sure.”
She takes the coffee and heads for the dining room. “C’mon, let’s put a plan of action together so we can all get on with the real business of our day.”
When she’s out of earshot Drake moves closer to me and says with a grin, “I think I like her too.”
“You better. I plan on keeping her around.”
“I figured.”
We follow Oakley and within a minute Drake has signed on the dotted line and we’re sitting around the table, my phone in the middle on speaker, waiting for Rafe to answer.
“Walker,” Rafe answers. “What can I do for you?”
“My announcement. Do the Knights want to make it a joint one?”
“Ah, give me a second.”
We hear a lot of moving around and the distinct sound of a door closing.
“Okay, I want to say yes but the shit hit the fan here this morning. Laken is with the team lawyers now.”
“Is she okay?” Oakley asks, shifting forward in her seat, concern etched on her face, in the stiffness of her posture.
“She will be.”
“Does she need anything?”
“No. But thank you.”
“Tell her to call me any time.”
“I will. Now, Walker, have you spoken to your agent—”
“I’m here too.”
“Right. Full court press. Okay, can you put the announcement off until later today or tomorrow?”
I glance at Oakley who shrugs, then Drake who gives me a thumbs up. “Yeah, we can hold off. What are you thinking?”
“Well, we’re going to be defending the team and Laken against Cantrell but not yet. The lawyers have done their thing, and he now has a gag order on him that should prevent him from talking more. But it’s Jer, so anything is possible.”
I bite my tongue to keep from saying what I’m thinking but Oakley doesn’t have the same restraint.
“He’s an idiot. He’s already spreading rumors about the league’s new franchise, and you and I both know the league will not take kindly to him revealing any information on that deal before they do.”
“Wow. His idiocy never stops.” Rafe’s sigh comes through loud and clear. “Let’s talk again tomorrow and set up a press conference for the day after, Walker.”
“I’m good with that.”
“Okay, talk then. I’m sorry to cut this short but I gotta get back to Laken.”
“Go. And thanks. I’ll wait to hear from you tomorrow.”
“All right. Bye.”
When the line goes dead, Drake leans back in his chair. “Well. That’s one thing dealt with, what’s next?”
“Now I have your pretty signature, I think we talk about this.” Oakley drops a bundle of papers I recognize in front of him.
He barely reads the first paragraph before his eyes are up and he says, “It’s true?”
“Yep.” She nods with a Cheshire cat smile. “You’re the first, outside of the league and KAW, to know the newest NHL team is the Rogues coming out of Baton Rouge.”
“Holy shit.” He tips sideways and pulls out his phone. “I need to make a call to someone.”
I look at Oakley. “Shouldn’t you notify the league of the leak?”
“No. Better if it comes from direct sources.” She points to Drake, then pushes back her chair and stands. “C’mon, let’s make sure we don’t overhear anything. That way we can deny knowledge about this call without lying.”
“I need a refill,” I say as I stand.
Reaching for Drake’s mug, I hook a finger through the handle. It’s heavier than I thought, and he probably doesn’t need a refill but it’ll keep us out of the room long enough for him to make the call.
She waits until we’re in the kitchen before speaking, her voice lowered. “Are you going to reveal I offered you a job?”
“I don’t know. Should I?”
“Up to you. I’ve just told him about the Rogues so it’s not like you have to be vague.”
“True. And I did wonder if I needed an agent for the contract.”
“Get him and your lawyer to look at it but unless you have completely unrealistic demands, we’re open to modifying the contract to fit your needs.”
“Is that because we’re sleeping together or because you want me to coach the team?”
“I’d never give you special consideration because we’re having sex, and it’s more than that anyway.”
“It is.” I nod and lean my hip against the counter while she tops up all the mugs. “How much more?”
“Huh?” She glances at me. “What do you mean?”
“How much more do we want to make this now? We’re obviously not hiding our relationship anymore, and I’m about to announce my retirement…” Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I make a mental note to shave. “Should we establish the seriousness of us for the world to see to defuse some of the gossip that’s bound to circulate once the Rogues are announced?”
“How? Us being seen together, you moving in with me isn’t enough?”
“Well…” The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced my line of thought is a good one. “Got time for a quick holiday?”
She’s got her mug halfway to her mouth but stops. Putting it down, she doesn’t take her eyes off me. “You are not thinking what I think, are you?”
I grin. “Depends what you’re thinking I’m thinking.”
“Walker.” My name is a warning, but I see the spark of excitement in her eyes. I know she’s not totally averse to what I’m suggesting.
And I’m not even being clear.
“We can’t,” she adds when I push off the counter.
“Sure, we can.”
“Walker.” She takes a step back.
I follow.
“Walker.” She’s trembling now and I reach for her hand, steady it in mine.
“Oak.”
Her eyes close and I know I have her. When she looks at me again, a smile takes over my face and I lower to one knee.
She sucks in a breath and the fingers of the hand I hold—her left one—curl tightly around mine.
Then I say two words. And they’re more demand than question.
“Marry me.”