Page 5 of Better Watch Out
Andrew slid his wool coat on. “How’s he doing?”
“Good. Mom says his dental practice is practically the sponsor for the Toronto Jays junior hockey league.”
“Clever.”
Checking the time, Andrew saw he had a little over an hour to get to his apartment, get dressed for the evening, and head to Glasshouse Chelsea. He didn’t mind being a little late, slipping in to find his seat and avoid conversation … or stares. He would have avoided the entire event if Amanda hadn’t requested he be there, and since they were raising money to create a fund for injured athletes, Andrew couldn’t say no.Wouldn’t.
The familiar weight of regret filled Andrew’s stomach. He’d hoped with each passing year the pinch of guilt would ease but its lingering presence always reminded him why, as Joey said, failure was not an option, even if the job seemed standard.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Andrew exhaled. “Just thinking about tomorrow’s assignment.”
Oskar walked Andrew out. “You know I’m not one to botch our assignments with bad luck, but you’ve got the Malone assignment squared away.”
“Do you need to kiss that puck of yours again?”
Oskar laughed. “Nah.” He puckered his lips. “I’m saving these kissers for a Rockette and some mistletoe.”
Andrew shook his head as Oskar slipped into the crowd of New Yorkers heading for the subway. The icy winter air seeped through his jacket as he locked up the door to the Defensemen Agency. Slipping the keys into his pocket, he buttoned his coat up to his neck, anxious to fight the chill he couldn’t decide was from the weather or dressing in a tux to face off with his past failures.
ChapterThree
When I open my eyes, I will be back in my bedroom, waking up to head to New York City and—The echo of sirens interrupted her wishful thinking, reminding Frannie shewasin New York City. Dumped. Alone.And freezing.
That’s it. She hated New York City. Hated winter wonderlands. Hated cold weather.
Stretching her hand out of the cocoon of warmth, she reached for the phone on the bedside table and hit the button for the front desk.
“Front desk, how can I help you?”
“I don’t think the heater in my room is working.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Ms. Frost. I’ll send someone up immediately.”
“Thank you,” Frannie grumbled and then felt bad. “I appreciate it.”
There was aclickso she had no idea if her attempt at gratitude was received. She rubbed her eyes and groaned, feeling the clumpy mascara mess. She was surprised she had any left after her all-night sob session. Her stomach ached with a turbulent mix of hunger and sadness as the events from the night before replayed in her mind. Sometime before one in the morning, her tears went from sadness to confusion to anger—at herself. In the montage of her relationship with Calvin, everything was good until he left. They seemed like they were destined for a long, happy life together. Then, he left. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she realized she’d been the one pursuing him while he was gone. She’d send the emails and texts, attempt to make calls. Calvin had checked out and somehow she’d stupidly missed all of the signs.
Not to mention her weird reaction when she finally locked eyes with him. Where was the surge of affection or the burst of heat that would melt her into her secondhand Cole Haan boots? Frannie’s brow wrinkled. Now that she thought about it, there was … nothing. It was as if her heart had known but stubbornly decided not to relay that important message to her brain.
Her cell phone rang and she cringed, pressing her head deeper beneath the covers. It was probably her mom checking on her. Her skin tingled with frustration. Her mom had not wanted her to come to New York. Warned her not to chase after Calvin.“That’s not how it’s done, Frannie. If he loves you, he’ll come get you.”
Well, that was not how it worked in the real world anymore. Maybe back in her mom’s day, but not now. Her agitation grew. Frannie was not her mom. And if she was, she wouldn’t have let her first husband, Frannie and Ryan’s dad, just walk out on them. She would’ve fought for the relationship.
Stop. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, trailing down her temple and into her hair. Frannie’s mom didn’t have a choice. Too young to remember, Frannie relied on what Ryan told her about their father. That it was better he’d left. That they were better off without him.
She wasn’t so sure. In his absence, Frannie was left to face the rumors about her mom that small-town gossips dished out quicker than a cholesterol-laden casserole.
Her cell phone rang again.
Ugh. Might as well get this over with. “Hello.”
“Do you realize I was about ten seconds from calling your brother to send the FBI looking for you?”
It wasn’t her mom but her sister-in-law, Vivian. Feeling a little relieved, Frannie rolled on her side. Sunlight peeked from the edges of the curtain. What time was it? “Why would you do that?”
“Because you called me last night and left an unintelligible message on my phone. And you haven’t answered your cell phone since.”
